Page 54 of Bought By Three Men

Once lunch was done, CeCe rushed out and cleared the table. Again, Felix tried to get her to sit down and relax. She refused.

My mother, her nurses, and Joesph went back over to the pool. He dove in, and my mom cheered him on. Dottie waved to them, said goodbye to us, and asked Tasha if she was ready to see the projectors.

Tasha hugged all of us and promised to be by in the morning. I thanked her. She was absolutely fantastic. Before she came over, I would make sure to have a list of ideas for her. She had done so much work already I wanted to contribute.

As soon as they were gone, Sandy pulled out a pair of pink shorts, a matching tank top, and sneakers. That must have been what took her and Dottie so long in the bathroom. They grabbed my clothes, so I wasn’t sneaking out in a bathing suit.

Felix rubbed his hands together. “You two ready?”

CHAPTER23

Tristan (Day 4)

My phone buzzed.

Tasha

Hey Love, I need a list for your wedding invites.

Why?

I’m planning your wedding.

Why?

Because Ava Palmer is a lovely woman. List. Now.

Fine, my secretary will send it over.

“Wedding? How could you get married and not invite me?” Lisa gasped.

Lisa moved around the kitchenette in the hotel room. We were twenty minutes from the rehab center, and I couldn’t get her to go. The first excuse was she wanted a nice meal before we went. We were currently on the fifth nice meal.

When I got her in the car, I questioned her for hours about the letter. She swore she didn’t send any letters to anyone. Nor had she been inside my house. It wasn’t until Daryl informed me about the blood in Ava’s room that I believed Lisa. She couldn't have done it while she was with me.

“Why would I invite you?” I was losing my patience with her. The only thing saving her was the medication the doctor had given her. It suppressed the cravings and the inevitable detox.

“I’m your mother-in-law,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You are the woman who gave birth to my late wife. That’s it.” I grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have spent the last few years taking care of me.” She turned on the stove for the water and added oil to another pan.

Maybe she was right. I did feel an obligation to make sure she was alright. I hated her for abandoning her kids and for spelling her dead daughter's name wrong. I hated her for passing her demons onto her daughter. I hated her for depriving my son of a grandmother. I hated her for many reasons. Despite all that, I still felt responsible for her.

“Now, after some clams linguine, we should take a walk. Explore the city. Lisa chopped up some garlic. For spending the last twenty-five years on the streets, she was a good cook, phenomenal even.

“No. We are going to the rehab center.” I took a long pull from the bottle and slammed it on the table. “It’s time.”

“I’m not ready yet.” She turned to me with pleading eyes. “This is the first time in years I’ve been out of the fog. I wanna see a city with new eyes.”

She pulled her hair back into a low pony. It was brushed and shiny. When we left the hospital, it was a tangled mess that frizzed out all over her head. Lisa tried to get the knots out herself and ended up crying on the floor. She looked so much like her daughter that I had no choice but to help. Took me three hours and a bottle of baby oil to detangle her hair.

“Why did you agree to come? You have no desire to get help,” I snapped. She kept making excuses, and I was tired of it.

“You think I want to be like this? Years of my life passed in a blur. For most of my life, I’ve been so high I don’t remember anything. I lost everything. I lost a daughter I didn’t even know. My son doesn't recognize me. I saw him once, he walked right past me. Had no clue who I was.

Did you know I used to cook? Mitch bought me a restaurant. It was never a success. Running a restaurant was hard. I just wanted to cook for people. Now, all I cook is my next hit. If you mix it with cherry drink mix, it makes a better high.” Lisa held onto the frying pan. Her tears splashed the pan. Oil splattered and got her in the face. She jumped back. The pan tumbled to the floor.

---