Page 80 of Never Have I Ever

“Oh yeah, what else is there?”

“Trust.” He kisses me while getting two good handfuls of my ass. “Let’s get you packed. I’ll drive you to your place.”

“You don’t have to. I know it’s a hassle, especially this time of day.”

He cuts through the living room and gets the glass of water I set out for him. “It will give me time to think on the way home.”

I get mine as well and take a sip. “You don’t think when you’re with me?”

“Not enough. You have me going off instinct.”

“Is that so bad?” I ask, leading him to the bedroom.

“Nope.”

Trapped by piles of laundry, I look up as soon as my phone starts ringing . . . across the room. I jump over the lights and then the growing dark clothes piles, setting a personal goal to grab it by the second ring. Winning silver in this event, I answer, “Hello?” I’m panting more than I should, considering the easy task. That’s what I get for taking a week off from working out. Well . . . exercise in the traditional sense. I still burned plenty of calories with Laird, though.

I laugh to myself.

“Glad to hear life is so great after your tantrum at my bridal shower.” The grate of her tone sucks the joy from my lungs.

“Hi, Mom.”

“I know you don’t care, but if you knew how many apologies I had to make on your behalf even to the staff. Apparently, you ran over some innocent server and into a celebrity client of theirs. It’s baffling and embarrassing to make a scene like you did and hurtful to steal my spotlight.” And she calls me dramatic. Apple. Tree.

Being berated wasn’t on my agenda tonight, so I close my eyes, wishing I had never answered. Or at least had checked the caller ID before I did. “How many?” I can’t help myself.

“How many what?”

“How many apologies did you have to make on my behalf?”

“Tsk. I don’t have time for this, Poppy.” I know she’s on the tail end of rolling her eyes right now. “It’s late, and Trevor is waiting for me in bed.” My stomach lurches from that visual. She continues, “I thought you would have apologized to me this past week, but I see you never change. Not even after—”

“Not after what, Mom? After an accident that I shouldn’t have survived? Not after you had to hire a nurse to take care of me because you had a trip to St. Bart’s that you booked while sitting in the hospital next to me because my critical condition was too much for you to bear? Or do we need to go back further to talk about how you told Marina’s mother that you could only dream that I could be as talented and beautiful as her daughter after she was crowned homecoming queen?”

“Why are you so ungrateful?”

“Do you remember what you said to me the morning after I won prom queen?”

Her heavy breath is filled with annoyance. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Get me two Tylenol and shut the blinds.” I hate the way that feeling of failure, that I would never be enough returns so easily, sinking to the pit of my stomach.

“I didn’t call to fight you,” she says, her voice honeyed as if I can just set the pain aside.

I’ve held a soft spot for her my entire life. Though I was spoiled with an incredible role model, Marina’s mom, Mimi is mine. I accepted that a long time ago. She’s only capable of giving love that she understands. She was raised with bank accounts and trust funds as a show of love. I can’t expect her to understand the difference. It’s not going to be from Trevor. He is well off but missing the key to happiness—a heart.

I got out. That should be enough, but that I’ve met Laird and felt what true love feels like, there’s no going back to accepting anything less.

“I called you several times last weekend, but you didn’t reply. That’s why I’m calling so late. I was hoping to catch you.”

“You caught me.” I pace my apartment and wander aimlessly, waiting for her to continue.

She says, “I want the menu changed.”

I stop abruptly in front of the mirror. “The menu? What are you talking about?”

There’s a breath taken that I can hear before she replies, “Well, the amuse bouche is unremarkable, two of the appetizers were just served at Mildred Lassiter’s vow renewal ceremony last month, and beef Wellington? Really, darling? I was hoping for pizzazz, electrifying. Not a night at the country club-style menu. That’s more your father’s speed. Trevor and I—”

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