Page 24 of Sour Brew Face

“Lang, hey. I’m glad you’re here, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I decide to just get it out of the way, no sense beating around the bush.

“Oh, we have plenty to talk about, Mary Opal.” The way he says my name has my insides withering.

“Your mom stopped by my office today. She crossed a line. Several lines.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me without emotion. I swallow hard, but continue, with a nervous chuckle. “She went so far past the lines she can’t see them anymore.”

“Is that why you degraded and humiliated her?” I rear back as if I’ve been slapped again.

“Excuse me?”

“You threw being abandoned by my father in her face. How Emerson tossed her aside. Was that punishment for ‘crossing your lines’? Your justification for insinuating yourself in something that was none of your business?” So, it’s like this, is it? I’ve had just about enough for a Wednesday.

“Listen, I didn’t agree to a threesome with you and your mom. It’s you and me in this relationship. I’m not into pussy, remember, especially dry-rotted cobwebbed bitter old-lady snatch.” I spit out, surprised the sprinklers haven’t turned on with how fired up I am.

His beautiful slate eyes narrow at me, “Is that how you spoke to my mother? The woman who raised me. Sacrificed everything for me.”

“She’s your mom! That’s what mothers are supposed to do!” I yell back.

He laughs, but it isn’t a pleasant laugh, its dark and foreboding. I plant my feet and settle in for the death blow I know is coming my way.

“And what do you know about mothers?” As I fight back tears, his words hitting their intended mark, I notice my guys are gathered in the doorway and look ready to rumble. I shake my head and Dave holds up a finger to let me know I have one minute before they intercede.

As calmly as I can, I walk up to Langston and look him dead in the eye. I can feel the heat from his body and smell his cologne. I fortify myself with a deep breath. He almost appears remorseful for what he’s said, but it’s not enough.

“You’re right, Langston. I don’t know much about mothers. No need to continue this conversation, I got your point. When you finally cut the cord, and stop suckling at her teat of deception, I hope you find happiness. I’m sad that we won’t be finding it together, but I wish you the best, nonetheless. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have plans to watch someone kick a puppy. It’s a busy day!” I turn away from his confused expression and walk into my office and close the door to the lab.

As I lean against it, I hear Esteban ushering Langston out. “You need to leave, and be happy she handled it herself, you’d be hella bloody if we had to step in.” I snort at the prospect of them committing violence of any kind, but it’s nice that they’d think about it on my behalf.

I slide to my butt, tears welling behind my eyelids before spilling down my cheeks. My heart has been bruised and battered, but it’s never broken before. And I don’t know if it can ever be fixed.

Mo 21.

After a fitful night of sleep and a lackluster masturbatory session, I’m at work, dragging my feet and my body language threatens maiming and dismemberment to anyone who approaches me.

Life goes on…alone. Did you know one is the loneliest number that I’ll ever know?

I’m devastated and yet not surprised to be honest. I have muddled through a long line of disappointments, abandonments, and breakups…what’s one more? One more is shittastically painful, that’s what one more is. Because it’s Langston. I handed over my heart, I saw a future with him, I was fooled into believing the universe was cutting me a break. I won’t be fooled again.

“Mo?” A tentative voice breaks me out of my stare off with the microwave as I heat up a breakfast sandwich. Ok, fine it’s two breakfast sandwiches, back off. Jeez.

“Unless there is an emergency or someone has died or would like to die, I’m not available.”

“Well, that’s too bad, Dr. Kevorkian.” Mike sasses, as I hear multiple sets of feet clomp into the room to join me. Yay! It’s a party.

“One of you better have a glass of MoMo in hand or you can get the fuck out.”

“I told you, I told you. If we hired a girl, there would be drama. She tricked us for like a year, making us think that she was not a girl or at least a drama repellant female. But that’s like thinking unicorn’s exist.”

I open the microwave as they bicker amongst themselves once Seth is done speaking. I sigh, but it has to be done. I take one of my piping hot sandwiches, spin around and hurl it at his head. Dave catches the biscuit, sausage patty, and egg before it hits the floor, reassembles the sandwich, and takes a hearty bite, glaring at me the whole time.

“I don’t care how homicidal you are, you never disrespect food.” Dropping my head to my chest, I mutter an apology. He’s right. And now I’m short a sandwich.

“What do you guys want?” I ask in a pathetically defeated voice.

“We’ve decided that we are going to terminate our contract with Mayes.” Paul announces proudly for the group and all I can do is stare at them in shock and confusion.

“I’m sorry. I thought you all were relatively intelligent. I must have been misinformed.”

“Mo, come on, don’t insult us. We’re doing this for you, standing in solidarity with you.”