Page 92 of Escaping Our Reality

Lulu yanks her arm from her mom’s grasp. “Mom, I’ll be happy to mingle, after I introduce you to Ryland. Ryland, this is my mother, Susan.”

Her mom looks different from the last time I saw her on the news, talking about Carrie. Even different from the picture Lulu showed me on her birthday. I can’t quite place it though.

“Oh, my.” Susan covers her mouth in exaggerated shock. The diamond ring on her finger is large enough to ice skate on. “I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us.”

“Yes. You were very aware. I told you twice.” Lulu’s voice is cold and stoic.

Susan leans over, fake whispering at her daughter. At least she’s attempting to pretend for my benefit. “Does Hudson know about this?”

“Thismeaning Ryland attending this function. Orthismeaning my relationship with Ryland? Because last time I checked, Hudson is not the chairman of the party planning committee, nor am I indebted to get permission from him on whom I date. And yes, he is very aware that Ryland and I are dating.”

Susan narrows her eyes and wraps Lulu in a fake hug, invading her personal space. “I do not know what has gotten into you, young lady, but you will not embarrass me today. I do not ask much of you. The least you can do is represent this family with the dignity and grace that we taught you.”

Pulling away, she straightens her already straight dress and turns her attention to me. “Ryland, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She limply dangles her hand in front of me.

What the fuck? Does the woman think I’m deaf? Or is she just delusional?

Having no choice, I try to shake her hand as graciously as possible. “Pleasure is all mine.”

You can tell the second she actually acknowledges my full presence. The second she actually looks at me like I’m a human being. How can you tell? Because her skin flushes. “Well, I can certainly see why my daughter is drawn to you. You are quite handsome.” She giggles and plays with the strand of pearls draped across her neck. “Any friend of Ella’s is a friend of mine.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Fortunately, she’s called away by someone before she embarrasses herself any further.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lulu doesn’t look at me. “It’s the nose.”

“What?”

“You were trying to place what was different about her. She just had a nose job. She thought her nose looked too big in one of the camera interviews she did for Carrie, so she just had a nose job.”

“Her daughter is still missing, and she decides to have elective surgery?”

She points her chin in the air, not answering my rhetorical question. “Time to mingle.”

Chapter 38

CRUTCH

Ella’s definitely the dominant personality here, don’t get me wrong.

But My Lulu roars like a damn beast during some of the finer moments of this pathetic party.

She flits around from person to person, hands neatly folded in front of her body, politely chatting about the weather or the excitement of her high school career drawing to an end. She agrees with everything that everyone says.

One person comments that the champagne in the Mimosas is flat. Ella agrees. Another person comments that the champagne is too bubbly. Ella agrees. One person argues that the President will be re-elected come November. Ella agrees. Another person argues that the President will be defeated in a landslide. Ella agrees.

Agree. Agree. Agree.

She often stands in silence, like a statue, just blankly staring at those around her as they have a conversation. It drives me damn crazy, quickly reminding me of the night we met. All that standing and staring. It makes me wanna scream. Grab her and shake her until her ball-busting, spit-fire persona comes bursting forth for all the people to see.

It’sMy Luluwhom I love.

Yes, My Lulu can stare with the best of them. But she stares with a passion and a fury, a lust for life. With an intensity that could bring a grown man to his knees.

And a couple of times, I see her come out to play. And it has me laughing so damn hard, I nearly piss my pants.

She introduces me to everyone she talks to. Most of them graciously ignore me. But a few of them decide to test me. They need to make sure my bank account has a certain number of zeros at the end of it before they’ll extend their pleasantries.

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