Page 65 of Love Me Like It's Real
“It’s physically impossible. You stunted my growth when you referred to my penis as my pee-pee. I’m now regressing into a child because of you. I hope you’re happy.”
“Oh trust me, baby, you didn’t need me to start regressing. You’re doing a damn good job all on your own.”
“Love you too, Mom.” I take another bite of dinner and sneak a glance at my phone but it remains as dead as anything.
Why hasn’t he texted? What’s taking him so long? Has he changed his mind about our thing? Or maybe he didn’t enjoy our night together? Maybe I did something wrong that offended him or put him off?
“Can you tell me what’s so important that can’t wait until we’re done with dinner?”
I sit back and turn my attention to Mom.
“Nothing. It’s okay,” I say.
“But it’s not. You keep looking at that thing as if you expect it to grow vines.” She glances at my phone with a look of disgust and pushes a strand of her purple hair back.
I instinctively cover my phone with my hand and lean closer to whisper, “Ewww. Now my pee-pee is growing vines? That’s disgusting.”
Mom sighs and puts her fork down. “Heavens help me before I kill my own flesh and blood.”
I straighten my expression, push myself closer to her and study her face, reaching for her hand. “What’s wrong Mom? You’re starting to sound…murderous.”
Mom slaps my hand away and I crack up at her frustration. “You keep that up and therewillbe blood tonight.”
I settle back in my chair in front of my chicken cacciatore and take a sip of my white wine when my phone flashes and I almost choke. But it’s not him. Just a stupid notification from an app I don’t even use anymore.
“Okay you need to tell me what the hell is wrong with you because you’re really starting to piss me off now.”
I turn my phone upside down and pick up my wine again even though my throat is still not clear from the near-choking.
“It’s nothing. It’s work.”
Mom hovers her own glass in front of her lips and scoffs. “Are you sure? You’ve never been this interested in work before.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip. “What else could it be? It’s not like I have a life.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “There was an article about you last night.”
“Really, Mom? We’re calling anythingMaplewood Matters‘an article’ now? What’s next? Are we calling the dump I’m about to push out a pot of gold now?”
Mom grimaces but my obscenity doesn’t deter her. “Not sure anything that comes out of you is gold. But apparently you and an unidentified man caused quite the stir at the Inn last night.”
I huff. “I wouldn’t call it a stir. It was barely a thing.”
“But it was. A thing, I mean.”
“It was nothing.”
Mom nods for a moment and takes another sip before she asks: “So you and this man didn’t storm out shouting things like we’re breaking up and it’s over?”
Wow, nowMaplewood Matterembellishes, huh? I don’t know what else I expected. It’s not like it’s the first time. But it does make me wonder for the hundredth time, who the fuck is behind this drivel.
“Of course not.”
“So you weren’t there with a man last night?”
I take a small breath and hide my face by tipping my glass and downing its contents.
“I was. But it was nothing. It was?—”
