"So, girl, come here on the 24th and stay until January 3rd. I'm not asking; I'm telling you to do it," Jasmine declared to Harper, her words slightly slurred from the generous amount of wine she had consumed.
"Okay, ma'am—" Harper began, a smile dancing on her lips. She was the only one at the table who remained sober, having opted out of the evening's alcoholic festivities.
"Didn't I already tell you to call me mother?" Jasmine complained, cutting Harper's words short.
Harper couldn't help but grin wider, amused by how Jasmine's typically calm and composed demeanor was a facade that had crumbled under the influence of wine. In this state, she was undeniably Rachel's mother, raw and unfiltered.
"No, you didn't," Harper replied, her amusement bubbling to the surface as she observed Jasmine's antics.
"Now I did, so no 'ma'am.' It sounds so old," Jasmine hiccupped, pouring herself another generous glass of wine.
