She glared at her watch as I approached. “Nice of you to join me. I thought I told you twelve o’clock.” She stood, kissed me on each cheek, and gave me the world’s most awkward hug, leaning the top half of her body over to double pat my back as if I’d mess up her clothes if I got too close.

“Yes, Mother. I’m a couple of minutes late, but I had to find a parking spot as I drove from the office. If we’d gone to Michael’s, I could’ve walked.” I gave her a closed-mouth smile and sat down.

“Well, I’m not sure who raised you, but Michael’s isn’t an acceptable establishment. They only serve American food.”

“The nerve. A restaurant in America serving American food. How do they stay open?” I hated how snarky I got when I was around her, but she could set me off with a look.

“Don’t get lippy with me, Blake. You could stand to be more selective about where and what you eat.” She scrutinized me with disapproving eyes.

I wasn’t sure what she didn’t like, but she’d tell me. She reached out and touched the curls that framed my face.

“Honey, why do you let your hair get so unmanageable? Do you not have a good stylist here? I will put in a call.”

“Mother, there is nothing wrong with my stylist. I’m perfectly happy with her. I left my hair down today because, for once, it wasn’t humid, and I didn’t think it looked bad. What don’t you like about it?” I furrowed my brow as I awaited her response.

“Don’t make that face. You’ll cause more wrinkles than you already have. It looks like your Botox hasn’t done a good job.”

“I haven’t gotten Botox, but thanks for telling me I should.” I wanted so badly to roll my eyes and act like a petulant child, but I sat there across from her and smiled as she continued her appraisal of me.

There was a reason I didn’t spend much time with her. If I subjected myself to her insults on the regular, I would have no self-worth at all.

“Oh, well, I’d say it’s time. I can make a call. I will set you up with my doctor, who is wonderful. I mean, look at me. I could pass for your sister.”

“Yes, you look great, Mom.” And she did. She didn’t have a wrinkle on her or a hair out of place. I supposed, to her, I did come across as a street urchin, even though my outfit cost upwards of $3,000.00. How I dressed and who I was would never fit the mold she’d created for me.

I worked so hard to be the perfect daughter growing up. All I wanted was my parents’ approval, and all I ever received were backhanded compliments at best. For the longest time, my heart hurt from not being good enough, but then I realized their opinions or expectations didn’t define my worth. I had to live for myself. But there was still that little girl inside who couldn’t stand up to her mom. She struggled with letting her emotions get the best of her.

I had gotten lost in my feelings and zoned out. When I looked up at her, she was staring at me as if expecting a response.

I wasn’t about to start a fight, so I said, “Sure, Mom,” having no idea what I had agreed to.

“Perfect. It looks like I can get you an appointment with my doctor and hairstylist next month. I will call your assistant to set it up.” She was scrolling through her phone, probably checking her calendar to put another browbeating session on the books as well.

“Wait, what? No, that’s not necessary but thank you. I’m okay with my wrinkles, and there is nothing that can control my hair.”

Her expression was either one of shock or disgust. It was hard to decipher any emotion from her unmoving face, but the fire behind her eyes gave me an indication.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear. There is no need to go around looking like that.” She swirled her hand in front of me as if it were a magic wand that would transform me into the daughter she actually wanted.

“Right. Well, this has been super fun, but I got a message from the office. I need to leave. I’ll have to get a raincheck. I’m sorry.” I scooted my chair back to stand up. When I grabbed my purse to leave, she reached for my hand.

“Blake, are you upset about something?”

I tried to stay as neutral as possible because I didn’t want her to realize the impact she still had on me. “Of course not, Mother. I have important business to take care of.”

“I didn’t even get to ask you about Stevie.”

“Well, since I don’t know anyone by that name, that was a quick conversation.” I turned on my heel and hightailed it out of there. I think that woman took ten years off of my life, or at least my self-esteem.

I decided to head back to work, even though seeing anyone seemed almost unbearable. I had so much repressed aggression I didn’t want to take it out on anyone. But Ty was the only person who understood me, and he always had my back. He was more family to me than my blood. But if he ever scheduled another lunch with Mommy Dearest, I’d make him come with me to teach him a lesson.

As I walked through the door, I saw Ty sitting at his desk like he was daydreaming of unicorns and butterflies. He had this Pollyanna outlook on life ever since he and David exchanged the L word—love, not the show. His eyes met mine, and he appeared to sense the rage radiating off of me.

“Hey…” He clenched his teeth, and I could tell he was scared. “Was it that bad?”

“Well,” I peeked at my phone, “it’s 12:37, and I’m here.” Wow. It was amazing how she triggered me so badly in less than thirty minutes. That had to be a record. But those minutes were enough to last me another year. It would take that long for my ego to build itself back up.

“At least it was over quickly?” He seemed like he was trying to calm me down, but I wasn’t ready yet.