Page 94 of Falling

“You do know she’s only doing that so I won’t be mad at her, right?”

“What?”

“The vacation. I doubt she and Mike had plans. I bet she booked it right there in the stadium,” Wren mutters, laughing at herself.

“Has she done that before?”

“How else do you think we got to Barcelona?” Wren says, shaking her head. “I lost out on a comp because I wasn’t eating properly. I passed out on the ice. Before you say anything, it hasn’t happened since, and I’m not stupid enough to do that to my body again. One of the more mortifying points in my career, but I turned it around. But right after it happened, my mom could hardly look at me. So she booked me and the girls an all-inclusive vacation to Barcelona. I don’t know why she thought that would make everything better, like it was to show she still cared about me, but it never felt like that. I always knew deep down that she was doing it to be like ‘Hey, I'm not mad at you. Here, have some freedom as proof.’ But when I’d come back, it was back to the same shit, the same routine, and the same fucking comments about every single thing I do wrong.”

Her words sound like a sucker punch, and I wish I could do something to make it better for her. I wish I could give her a whole new mom all together. “Have you ever brought this up with her?”

“Once,” she says. “She sent me a new pair of skates for some stupid mistake I can’t remember. They were the most expensive ones she could find, and when I confronted her about it, she gave me this whole spiel about how ungrateful I am and how she wishes I was still her sweet little Amelia.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” She lets out a short laugh. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. It’s manipulative, Wren.”

She shrugs. “You know, saying it out loud to you has been the first time I’ve actually thought about it like that.”

“Jesus,” I murmur, shaking my head. I hate how okay she is with all this. How she’s so fine with everything being wrong with the relationship with her mom.

She sighs. “It’s cool. She’s my mom, you know? It’s hard to stay mad at her sometimes. It’s just… Let’s talk about something else so I don’t freak out.”

“What are your Christmas plans?” I ask instead, changing the subject. I grin, and she tries to hide her own smile.

“Nothing. Our flight to Palm Springs is the day after, so I guess I’ll spend Christmas Day here with Kennedy and Scarlett. My family aren’t very Christmassy people,” she mumbles between chews.

“How come?”

“Since the divorce, it’s felt kind of unnecessary to celebrate as a family. Neither one of them remarried, but they’re always dating new people, so it’s always felt a little awkward.”

“Doyoulike Christmas?” I ask, nudging her under the table with my foot. A smile creeps up her face.

“I love it. I like the seeing my friends and family part the most. It’s nice when everyone’s together.”

I hum. “My parents are having Christmas Eve dinner at home this year. They invited us since I skipped Thanksgiving, but I wasn’t going to go because my mom and I are in a weird place. But if you want to, we can go,” I ramble, unable to stop the shit spewing out of my mouth. “You know, only if you want,” I add.

I wasn’t going to mention that I was invited because as soon as I got the message from Clara, I was going to decline the invite, but hearing this, I had to ask. Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to finally see my mom again and hang out with my sister without her cornering me in her car.

“Of course I’ll go. How could I miss the opportunity to see baby pictures of you?”

“Are you sure? My family is a little unhinged.”

“They can’t be any more unhinged than mine.”

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

Wren gives me a wide smile before shoving more salad into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully, looking down at her food and then at me.

“You never talk about your parents. Is there anything I should know before we go?” she asks cautiously. “Are they axe murderers or have weird taxidermy animals in the living room?”

“My mom had an affair a few years ago, and I only just found out,” I spit out. “It’s over now, but it’s still weird to me.”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “I kinda wish she was an axe murderer now.”

“Me too.” I sigh.

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