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“I shouldn’t be longer than a month.”
I choked, hoping and praying to God that it wouldn’t actually be longer than a week. Maybe the humidity would get to her and she’d be too afraid it would rehydrate her raisin face.
I would almost feel bad for the harsh thoughts, but years of smoking, drinking, and scowling had done that to her. Why deny the truth?
“A month? I’m very busy, mother…”
“Too busy for the woman who bore you and raised you?”
Ugh. That old argument.
“No, of course not.” I said eventually.
“Good. Now, I’ll be arriving for Thanksgiving. We’ll spend the holiday together. And maybe Christmas, if you can stand me that long.”
Fuck me…
“Of course, Mother. I’ll prepare a room that will be comfortable for you.”
“Very good. I’ll send you the itinerary.”
Just like that, she hung up and I stood there gripping my phone so hard I thought it might snap.
I kind of envied my father in a way. even though they'd divorced when I was a kid, he could never be rid of her. Paula had always said that he’d died just to get away from the woman, and I honestly agreed with her.
Chapter 22
-Mia-
Things between Clea and I didn’t get better.
For the next couple of weeks, we hardly talked, giving little strained smiles to each other because we had nothing to say. In a way, it broke my heart. We’d been friends for several years, meeting in my Junior year and her Freshman year. We would graduate the same year, but me with a Masters and her with a Bachelor’s degree.
The space between us made me lean more on Owen. We still had our evenings where we worked together, sitting across from one another at his desk at the school or in his home, then we’d put the books away and we’d go from professor and TA, to man and woman.
And meeting the boys had been…just wow. I couldn’t necessarily see myself as a mother, but I’d instantly fallen in love with them, and it reminded me in a small way of my brother growing up. Being five years younger, I remembered most of his babyhood and toddlerhood. Caden reminded me of him the most, wild and loud and excited about everything. Charlie was quieter. A thinker. I could relate to that. I often found myself tucked into a corner with him going over a book or sneaking treats while Owen wasn’t looking. He liked me because of that. Of course, I’d told Owen we were sneaking candies, and he didn't care. His only response had been ‘if you can get him to talk, give the boy fucking sugar cubes if that’s what it takes.’ I’d simply laughed, but kept on with what I’d been doing.
We’d just finished our third weekend with the boys, and it was a Monday night, just the two of us.
“So,” Owen said while he flicked through Netflix, trying to find something to watch while we lounged in his plush living room. “I’ve got to ask you something I need you to say no to.”
I lifted an eyebrow at him, which made him groan.
“Seriously. Say no.”
“Ask me, and I’ll decide if I say no.”
He blew out a breath, then blurted, “Ever since Paula found out about you, she’s been hounding me to go on a double date with her and her boy toy. I need you to say no so I can tell her no, then she’ll leave me alone.”
My other brow rose to meet the first in surprise. It was probably the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“A double date with your ex-wife?” I clarified.
He moaned in pain.
“Yes. Now say no so I can tell her n—”
“Ok!”
