Page 70 of Fight For Her
“Okay, Mom. Sorry we were late,” I said. Coby chuckled beside me as the server came to our table to take drink orders. I wanted a glass of wine. A jumbo glass. But I ordered a seltzer with lime instead.
“So what’s the news?” I should have known she’d waste no time. “Are the two of you getting married? I could see it on my Doll’s face. You make her happy, handsome. Watch out though, she can be a tough one to live with. Has to have what she calls her ‘personal space.’ God forbid you ever invade that space, you’ll have to deal with her attitude for days.”
“Mom for the love of—“ I inhaled a deep breath. Come on garlic and herb aromatherapy send calming vibes into my brain cells. “We’re not getting married. We only got back together recently.”
“Then what is it? Don’t get my hopes up. I told Richard earlier that I was hoping you were engaged. Right, Richard?”
She patted Richard on the forearm, and he responded, “Uh-huh.”
I sipped my seltzer, unable to form words. Why was she the way that she was? And where the hell did this woman come from? My mother hated marriage. She never dated a man for more than a few months.
“I won’t speak for Kendahl, but I know I love her more than anything and what we have is the real deal. We’re not rushing anything though, right babe?”
Way to save the moment Coby. “Right.” I cleared my throat. “Sorry to bring this up in front of Richard, but who are you and what have you done with my mother?”
She cackled loud enough that a few diners turned to stare. That fork accident was looking better and better. I forced a smile through gritted teeth at our onlookers.
“Maybe I’m getting sentimental as I get older.” She glanced at Richard. “Not that I’m a day over forty.”
Right.
“Or maybe, I can tell that my Doll is happy. Really happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” She reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze. My throat clogged with emotion. “I know about the job.”
“What? How?” I swiped at the corner of my eye where a tear formed.
“Did you forget I’m on Instabook? Or Facegram? Whatever they’re called. I saw your post the other day.”
Coby gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze under the table, anchoring me. If he hadn’t I might have forked myself for real because surely this was a dream. A bizarre dream where my mother was replaced with a pod person who still had the same hideous fashion sense and the same taste in boring men.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Shrugging and taking a sip of her Diet Coke, she said, “I wanted to see when you’d tell me. I said to Richard the other day, I wonder when my dearest first-born child will tell me that she’s leaving me to go off to Hollywood with the movie stars. Right, Richard, didn’t I say that?”
First-born child? Try only child.Here’s the mother I knew so well.
“Yup,” Richard grunted, eyes still on the menu. What was he reading? The menu was two pages long.
“I’m sorry you found out that way. It’s been a busy week, and I wanted to tell you in person.”
She dabbed at her eyes with the cloth napkin before the server interrupted us again to take our orders. It was funny how as soon as he reached us, she dropped the napkin and started to flirt with the poor guy. We ordered our meals and even Richard managed to break his eyes away from the menu. Instead he moved on to gazing intently at the tea light candle on his side of the table.
“Are you going to meet Brad Pitt? I told Richard—“
I couldn’t take hearing another “I told Richard…”
“Maybe. I don’t think he’s a client of the company I’m working for, but we’ll see. I think I heard someone mention one of the Baldwin brothers the other day. You like them, right?”
She huffed. “Eh, they’re alright. Who I adore these days is that superhero man who lives in the ocean. What’s his name Richard? I told you I saw him on a clip onThe Today Show.”
Richard shrugged. “Don’t remember.”
Yeah, because according to her, she tells Richard something every five seconds. It probably flies in one ear and out the other at this point.
“Jason Momoa?” Coby suggested.
“That’s it!” she yelled causing the same people to stare again. “What a hunk. What I wouldn’t give for an hour alone with him. Right, Richard? Didn’t I say that?”
I got a visual I very much did not need and never asked for.
