Page 14 of Yearn

“Serving food is the same no matter where you are.” She shrieked out a laugh and I knew she was already drunk. After all, it was past Noon.

“Whatever. Where are you?”

“At the club. I ran into Stacia and her daughter who graduated from Vassar. She’s working now for NBC, so when she asked about you, I had to explain your degree was useless. Four years of expensive bills so you can continue catalogue shoots and taking selfies.”

Nothing like another heartfelt insult. I should be used to it. I hated that it still hurt. “I was thinking of doing some dancing on the side. Exotic is a real crowd pleaser.”

“Not funny, Landon. You need to take your future more seriously.”

“Like you?”

The moment the words were out I regret it. On cue, her hurt gasp filled my ears. “I gave him everything,” she whispered, her voice broken. “I left at the peak of my career to have his child, and he humiliated me. Turned his back on both of us. You think that’s funny? That he left to start a new family? Did you know he bought his new daughter a Ferrari for her 16thbirthday? It’s all over social media. What did he buy you, Landon? What did he get you for graduation?”

Nothing. My father had bought me nothing. Hadn’t shown up to see me graduate high school, or college. But Mom knew that, and still loved to grind the fact into my memory, reminding me over and over that I’m worth nothing. Because that’s exactly what I was to my father.

Nothing.

My stomach lurched. “I have to go to work, Mom. I don’t have time for this.”

“You want to drop me like he did? I raised you. Loved you. Sacrificed for you. Yet, you can’t even call or come visit. What’d I do to make you hate me so much?”

Her rage was morphing into pity. I knew the drill. After years of taking care of her hangovers, her rages, and her crying jags, I’d become a ghost of myself. I soaked up her poison toward my father until there was nothing left of me but what she created along with my absent father.

God, I was so tired of it all. But every time I tried to distance myself, she appeared, begging for my attention and approval and sympathy. Was this going to continue forever? I’d heard forgiveness was the key to freedom, but I was too twisted up to get there. I could cut her off, but the guilt was too much to bear. So, instead, I was caught up in the constant drama of her moods and alcoholism, afraid if I turned my back she’d end up dead and alone. There was no one else left. She’d driven away her real friends, my grandparents were dead, and she clung to the only thing still standing other than me.

Money. A big fat trust my father had paid to get her out of his life forever. Money bought her fake friends and hot young men. Money bought her Botox and designer clothes and plastic surgery. Money bought her alcohol and oblivion. It also rented me this apartment, and my business marketing education I wasn’t using. I was constantly in a see saw of throwing it all back in her face so I can be truly on my own, but knowing it wasn’t a possibility. Yet.

I choked on my emotion and made sure I buried my tears. I’d sworn not to shed another over my parents. It was one promise to myself I managed to keep.

“Go to bed and sleep it off, Mom,” I said, exhausted.

She sniffed. “I love you, Landon. Will you come by this weekend? Please.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up. My hands shook as I ordered my Uber. I had to work, then meet everyone at the Rooftop bar tonight. I wanted to be at my best. I couldn’t deal with any leftover bullshit with the group. Now that Max and I were strong, Adam may finally shut up and leave me alone.

I pulled myself together for my shift.

I walked into Red and got myself settled. The place was already packed and I had to hurry to get onto the floor. Elle rushed over, her dark eyes worried. “Rock has you with Gabriella,” she whispered.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Elle shook her head. “I wanted to warn you. She’s been waiting. Anya assigned her to tables 12 to 17.”

Anger bubbled in my veins. After the talk with my mom, I was barely functioning and now this. “I’ll handle it.”

I marched over to the bar. Max caught my gaze and frowned. “What’s the matter?” he asked, grabbing two beers and snapping the caps off with ease. “You look pissed.”

“Rock wants me to split my tables with Gabriella. Where is he?”

Max winced. “That sucks. He’s on the second floor in his office.”

I climbed the steps and peeked in. Rock motioned me forward, talking on the phone while I waited. He was a big guy, with a clean-shaven head, bulging muscles, and a goatee. His neck bulged around his button-down shirt, practically bursting at the seams like the Incredible Hulk. He looked more like a bouncer than a restaurant manager, but he ran a tight ship and didn’t take any shit from the staff. Usually, I agreed with his decisions but not this one.

He hung up and turned. “Why aren’t you working? You’re late.”

“I’m not splitting tables with Gabriella. It’s my section and I haven’t been struggling. Plus, she’s a bitch who’s got her eye on Max.”

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