Page 35 of The Other Side of Apart
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. Mei Li’s beautiful.” Olivia gives Mei a tight smile, and I lean a little closer to Mei, like I can shield her from Olivia’s judgement.
“Uhh…” I glance at Mei, who looks like she’s concentrating on surfing the waves of awkward rolling through the room. “Because we couldn’t stand being apart? Because we’ve been in love since day one?” Why does she think we got married? “Why are you two married or shacking up or whatever you’re doing?” I motion between her and her man-pet.
Allen chokes on his food, and Olivia laughs. “Oh, we’re not married. I don’t believe in it. But if I did, I’m slightly older than eighteen. Even if I don’t look it.” She leans over and kisses Allen, and I find my plate fascinating and a perfect place to puke until she speaks again. “I’ve been eighteen, so I get it. I mean, I thought I loved Raymond for, like, ten minutes.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I finally figured out I just liked looking at him. Getting pregnant definitely wasn’t part of the plan, but I guess I looked a little too long.” She flips her hair. “Don’t get me wrong. I tried the whole mom thing. You were about ten months old when Raymond finished police academy and proposed, thinking we could be the picture-perfect family. But really, I didn’t want any of it.”
My blood runs cold. “I was ten months old when you left?”
She takes a sip of wine, staring at me over the rim of the glass. “Has Raymond never told you any of this?”
I shake my head, and Mei rubs my leg under the table.
“Really?” She leans forward, a smirk on her face. “What did he tell you about me?”
“Nothing.”
She sits back in her chair, running her hand over her hair. “Huh. Well…yeah. I gave motherhood a go. But after ten months, I just knew it wasn’t for me. And after Raymond proposed, I told him I felt the best thing we could do for you wasgive you up for adoption—let someone who wanted kids raise you. But he refused. So I controlled what I could and that was that.”
My whole body tenses against the information assault, my stomach cold, her words acidic. I’ve never heard this version of my history. Dad said she left not long after I was born. But…ten months after? She wanted to put me up for adoption after ten months? Rejection echoes through my body, achy and empty, but before I can respond, Olivia continues.
“So maybe you two are Raymond and Olivia 2.0, and Mei Li just likes looking at you.” She grins at us like she didn’t just drop a jagged boulder in the middle of the table. She spears something on her plate with her fork. “You pregnant?” she asks Mei.
“Are you serious?” I blurt before Mei can say anything. “No, she’s not pregnant. What kind of?—”
“Why are you offended, Marcus? You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if I hadn’t gotten pregnant at eighteen, you know.” Olivia tips her wine glass at Mei. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were pregnant, Mei Li. He’s gorgeous—perfect jaw line, amazing nose, perfect face, perfect height. All of it. And those blue eyes. A camera would make out with that face.” She and Allen chuckle. He clinks his wine glass against hers and shrugs at me.
“I’ll try not to be jealous since she’s your mom.” He throws his smile at me as an apology.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Olivia says, waving her hands. “Let’s not call me ‘mom.’ I never wanted to be one but I have to say…I’m proud of my hard work.”
I consider grabbing her glass and hurling it against the wall, and Mei must feel me tense because she slides her hand onto my leg and blurts, “I guess neither of us can resist Miller boys. And I’ve definitely been in love with Marcus for way longer than ten minutes. In fact, I love him so much, nothing could make meleave him.” She takes a bite of a cracker with a glob of yellow on it.
I snap my head toward her, my eyebrows reaching for the 80-foot ceiling. “Are you freaking kidding me? Did you really just say that? I love you so hard right now.”We haven’t talked in hours, and I’ve kept my eyes quiet on purpose, but I could jump on this rich person table and breakdance over that comment.
Mei sips her water while Olivia watches us.
“You two are adorable,” Olivia croons. “Seriously. What did Raymond say about all of this, anyway? He’s so opinionated about everything, and when I stopped by your apartment, he was so lit up about you not showing up for graduation, he was practically in flames. I can only imagine his reaction to this whole situation.”
Hearing her call him Raymond all night has grated against my nerves. She doesn’t know him. Doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know anything about us because she chose not to. Despite my anger toward Dad, she has no right to talk about him. I wanna stand between him and her stupid words. Protect him from her sharp angles and scratchy eyelashes and puffy lips. Kind of like I always tried to do but didn’t realize why until now.
“Raymond gets it,” I say even though he totally doesn’t and never will. “He’s getting married, too.”
“Mmm.” Olivia’s lips are tight. “Interesting. He said nothing about that when I saw him, but Rozalynn will be so happy. She always wanted him to get married and ‘settle down like a good little boy.’ She just always wanted it to be with me but…no thanks.” Olivia shakes her head too many times.
I’m coming unglued that she mentioned Meemaw, like she has any right to talk about her, either. I’m sick of deflecting her insults and hope the house help brings out food right now and rescues me from this moment.
But Allen clears his throat. “So, Marcus…what are your plans for the future?”
We just showed up. Like we were in the L.A. neighborhood and decided to drop in for a dinner party. I haven’t mentioned we’re homeless, and I won’t. Meth labs are a more attractive option than anything Olivia has to offer. “Uhh, we’re…” Wandering. Running. Fugitives? “Taking a summer road trip before school starts.”
“Ah. That sounds perfect. Wish I’d done that when I was your age instead of focusing so much on making money.” He smiles and rests his arms on the table like a normal person having a normal conversation. “Where are you headed in the fall?”
I swallow. Mei doesn’t know that when we stopped for gas earlier, I called Stanford and found out I can apply for a leave of absence—put my scholarship on hold and maybe get my spot on the team back. Maybe.
“Stanford,” I blurt, and Mei tenses beside me. But I refuse to say “maybe” or “I hope” because right now I could say anywhere since the answer today is nowhere. Someday, when this dumpster fire is finished exploding, I’ll be back at Stanford. So yeah—that’s the plan. After all this.
“Oh, very nice!” Allen says, beaming across the table. “Congratulations. Do you know what you want to study? And what about you, Mei Li?”
Allen’s asked us approximately a hundred more questions than Olivia, and actually seems to care, so I feel bad for lying to him.
