Page 61 of Heartfelt Pain
I’m almost feeling guilty for not taking more of her phone calls. At least until she announces, “I came this way to visit Ren. I invited her to Sailor’s birthday party.”
CHAPTER 14
Ren
Roma: Did my mom invite you to Sailor’s birthday party?
I’m still staring at the message when my phone rings.
“Hi?” The last time I spoke to Russet over the phone, I’d scheduled a meeting with her.
There’s something in the background. A TV possibly. I can already picture her flicking her hair back, the frustration comes across so clearly.
“Did Yelena show up at Fujimori’s today?” It sounds like she’s got the phone pressed to her ear, the connection slightly wobbly.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Roma called Max.”
But how did Roma find out? I bite down on my lower lip and open my fridge. It’s feeling like a Wild Cherry Pepsi type of night.
“Um. . . yeah, so,” I trail off. “I mean. . .”
“Are you coming to Sailor’s birthday?” Russet asks. I can’t figure out what I’m hearing in thebackground.
“Are you baking?” I ask.
She hums in confirmation.
“Are you. . . stress baking?”
She snorts, disgruntled and sarcastic. “What gave it away? The frantic whipping of icing or the fact that my mother-in-law from hell is planning my kid’s birthday party.”
I crack open the Pepsi and let the carbonated fizz wash down my throat. I’m correct in thinking Russ’s venting isn’t over.
“She’s co-opted the whole fucking thing!” A bowl bangs in the background. “She asked us if Sunday would work. We thought it’d be a small family get together.”
Yelena doesn’t know the meaning.
“Lev said it’d just be a family dinner. And Max agreed just so the grandparents would be satisfied because it’d been a while since we went over. Or at least all three of us. He took Sailor over a couple of weeks ago so I thought it was suspicious when Yelena texted Max about coming over again. And then we found out she’d sent invitations out! She’s hired caterers.”
Grocery store cakes and pizza made up my childhood birthdays. What it must be like to grow up rich.
“Um,” I hum. “Isn’t Sailor’s birthday in the fall?”
Russ’s frustration is a force through the phone. “Her birthday isn’t even until September! Why the fuck do you think we were taken aback when we received an invitation. But she said something about visiting her mother in Russia and that somehow equated to throwing a party.”
I frown as I mull this over. “How long is she planning on being in Russia?”
“Hopefully forever,” Russ grumbles. She’s either on the verge of crying or shooting somebody. “Do you know how annoying this bitch is? She can’t fucking ever get the hint. This is Sailor’s party and she’s made it all about herself.”
“Maybe it won’t be that bad?”
A disgruntled noise fills the line. “It’s Sailor’s birthday! I mean it’s early, but it’s still her birthday party!”
“I mean what would Sailor want to do?” I ask. She’s two, but from all the videos Russ shows, she’s very chatty. And honestly if she takes after her mom, Sailor seems the type who would love having a random birthday party that basically doesn’t even correlate to her actual birth date.
“She said she wanted a party with blue everything,” Russet says. “Does this beige bitch even know what color is?”
