Page 16 of The Show

If she hasn’t heard from me by lunchtime, she texts me. If I don’t reply immediately, she calls me. One time, when I’d been in a meeting all day and my phone was on my desk, she turned up at work. At my actual office, where my colleagues - professional people whose moms do not turn up to work – witnessed her being there.

It gave new meaning to the word mortification.

Deep down, I know it comes from a place of love, and she’s just trying to create a new way for us to spend time together, but honestly, the thought of it fills me with so much trepidation that it’s probably why I’m still single - or definitelyiswhy I’m still single, according to my therapist.

There’s also the added hurdle that anyone I do like would need to be brave enough to take on my mom.

I made the mistake of introducing a guy to her once – Davie McConnell, a really cute banker I’d met on a night out with Lauren. We’d been dating for two months, and right before the holiday season started, he announced he wanted us to meet each other’s families. I’d done a good job of hiding my daily responsibility up to that point, but in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have hidden it.

It might have prepared him better… or even a little.

We went for Sunday brunch near Gramercy Park, and I watched as Davie McConnell slipped further out of my grasp with every question my mom shot his way – Did he want kids? How many kids? Where did his parents live? What was his family history? Did he go to college? Did he know that I was a miracle child? What did he think of a June wedding?

Even my dad couldn’t save me, and on Monday morning, Davie McConnell broke up with me. He said we clearly wanted different things.

It was the last time I’d introduced anyone to my mom.

My only reprieve is the summer, which is probably why it’s my favorite season. Since I’d finished college, my mom and dad head off to Europe to watch tennis, attend various annual events, sail, shop, and I get four whole summer months to myself. I can date without any watchful eyes, I can go out, I can sleep late. We still speak daily, but the time difference makes it a little easier to manage.

It was also much easier to ignore the men she tries to set me up with, because they’re all a continent away. If my mother ever decided to start her own business, she’d make a killing with a dating agency. The woman does not understand the word ‘no’.

But this summer, they flew back early for Lucian’s birthday party, and the calls started the second they’d touched down yesterday. It’s amazing I’ve managed to make it a day without seeing them, but my mom knows nothing will break my ritual of getting ready with Lauren, and she’d see me at the party instead.

“Yes,” I replied honestly, because I was looking forward to seeing them. I love my parents; I just wish I could see them a little on my own agenda.

“How many times has your mom called since they landed?” she grinned.

“Four today, so far. But that’s probably only because she’ll see me tonight, so she hasn’t felt the need to call more.”

“Have you told her about your dating hiatus?”

“No. I thought I’d save that for when she has a drink in her hand and my dad’s there to distract her. She can’t throw a fit at Lucian’s party.”

Lauren eyes caught mine as I rolled them.

“Wanna swap?” we cried at the same time, just like we always had, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

From the outside looking in, we might have had gilded lives, but they certainly weren’t easy, and we were the only ones who knew that the best.

“Ladies, we’re five minutes out,” Jake announced.

“Thanks, Jake.” Lauren squeezed my hand, then pulled down the compact mirror in the back of the front seat headrest to check her face. “It’s game time, Lowey. Let’s get drunk and see what trouble we can get into.”

I scoffed, checking my reflection in my own mirror. My lips were still intact, and if there was ever a color to invite trouble, this was it; though between my mom and my new task of babysitting Penn, the sad reality was there’d be very little opportunity.

4

Lowe

The enormous wrought-iron gates at the main entrance to the Shepherd estate had been adorned with hundreds of different sized balloons in every shade of blue, which set me into a momentary panic I’d dressed to match the decorations. I needn’t have worried, however, as waiting at the entrance to the vast craftsman style house were Dylan, and her husband, Decker, also both dressed in blue. Granted, Decker’s tux and bow tie was deep navy, but that was still a shade of blue.

Only a year older than us, when we were younger, Lauren and I used to hang around with Dylan all the time. But since she met Decker, moved to the west coast where he was head of a film studio, and had a bunch of kids, we didn’t see her much at all.

“Oh awesome, you’re here!” she cried, roping us into a double hug, one arm around each of us.

I kissed her cheek before remembering I was wearing red lipstick, and rubbed the residue into her already rosy cheeks.

“You look gorgeous! I bought this dress last week too! Nearly wore it tonight but Laurie told me you’d called shotgun. I’ll have to wear it to Deck’s next premiere instead,” she grinned up at him.

---