Page 122 of Verses

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “That doesn’t feel like Christmas spirit.”

Ashley said, “No!”

“I’m serious. If I don’t teach you anything else in life, I need to teach you to make decisions. Sometimes your decisions won’t be popular, but it’s important tomakethem.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, but Luca said, “Okay. If I have to pick a turkey, I pick yours.”

My mother’s eyes lit up brighter than the Christmas tree. “Thank you. And what kind of pie would you like?”

“What do you have?”

My mother stayed seated, but most of the pies on the cart I’d seen before, so I pointed at them while she named them. “Pumpkin, pecan, chocolate cream, coconut cream, lemon meringue, and key lime.”

“Wow. That’s a lot.”

“Sure is—and there’s more pumpkin and chocolate cream in the fridge, so eat up.”

Ashley smoldered silently, apparently pissed that her boyfriend had given in to our mother’s childish game so easily. I sensed a fight between the couple before the day was done. How did my mother have such a damaging effect on everyone around her without seeming to realize it?

While waiting for Luca to make up his mind, I said, “I don’t remember you ever making key lime pie before.”

Her tone was nothing short of smug. “You need to visit more often.”

Those words shouldn’t have felt insulting—and, maybe to an outsider observing, what she’d said might have felt innocent enough. But I felt the sting, because I knew exactly what she was doing. I was always being judged for never living up to her standards—and her standards were only to stick close to home.

The longer I stood there with that stupid pie server in my hand while Luca weighed his options, I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to remind her thattheyhad leftme, not the other way around—and why didn’t they ever come visitme?

But I kept my mouth shut…because I knew I happier without them. And, having been apart from this family for so long, I could see my mother’s games for what they were.

Control and manipulation. What she got out of it, I didn’t know.

Luca finally said, “Can I have chocolateandpumpkin?”

My mother deemed him worthy. “Of course.”

I served up his choices and asked, “Whipped cream?”

“On both, please.”

After I handed him the small plate and a fork, I glanced at Wolf. His emerald eyes calmed me in a way I hadn’t expected, and I gave him a small smile, realizing it wouldn’t be long before it was just him and me again.

Phil said, “Hayley, if you don’t mind, would you serve me a big piece of chocolate?”

I refused to look at my mom, because I could see her deigning him as not worthy. I began putting a slice of pie on a plate, but my mother said, “You never chose which turkey you liked.”

“I likemine, woman. Isn’t that obvious?”

“I don’t see how you could.”

“It doesn’t matter. Give me my damn pie, Hayley.” When I handed him the plate along with a fork, I expected him to ask for whipped cream. Instead, he said, “Thank you.” Then he stood and took his plate to the living room where he sat in a brown recliner to watch the football game.

“You need to eat in the dining room,” my mother nearly growled.

Phil simply ignored her—so she turned her attention on me. “Hayley, you need to make a decision.”

“I don’t need any pie.”

“I still need you to choose.”

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