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“Yep, Mom, I was certain you pulled some weight with the man upstairs and had him hand delivered.” I sighed. What a foolish thought that was. Sure, Sawyer was extremely kind when he had found out about Mom. When I called him to break our date due to the most unfortunate circumstance of my life, he let me cry to him for hours. What did he say? “It would be an honor to listen to you all night. You don’t have to say a word.” Between my fits of crying, I entertained him with silly Mom stories, like how one year for Christmas she made about a hundred nativity sets out of toilet paper rolls all for the sake of recycling. I loved and missed her so much I physically ached.
I smoothed her headstone. “Mom, please tell me what to do. He’s never asked me out again, yet I spend more time with him than anyone, which has only made me fall deeper in love with him. And then there’s her. Who comes to the funeral of a person you don’t know with their son? A money-grubbing tramp, that’s who.”
Oh, yes, I saw right through her though she was playing it cool and acting as if she was only there to pay her respects and offer comfort to our family. A family she didn’t know except that everyone this side of the mountains knows the Carrington name.
I sniffled. “I bet you saw her conniving ways too. Are you dying over her? No pun intended. You really need to shake your husband, or zap him. People survive lightning strikes all the time; I’m just saying, think about it. If Josephine was standing near him when it happened, that wouldn’t hurt.” I would love to see her perfectly coiffed dyed auburn hair frizz and fry.
“I know. I know. I’m being terrible, and you taught me better, but she’s awful. You have to admit that. Look at what she’s done to our house. Have you seen that black mohair furniture that no one is allowed to sit on? Not that I would want to; it’s uncomfortable. Don’t even get me started on her ‘art.’ I’ve seen better paintings from kindergartners. And I had to beg Frankie to stay on as cook at least through the end of the summer. Josephine has done nothing but complain about her food since January when she married Dad. Frankie may hate Josephine more than I do, which is saying something. I can hear you say ‘hate is for the weak and simpleminded’, so maybe I’m both.”
Tears poured down my cheeks.
“I thought he was the one. I had those stupid tingles you talked about. I still get them even though he’s offered me nothing but friendship and his mother is the worst of the worst. Why is Dad so blind to her? Everything about her is fake, from her cheekbones and liposuctioned thighs, to the way she pretends to adore Dad. It’s his money and status in the community she loves. Did you see the fancy sports car she bought herself and told everyone it was a gift from Dad? Dad would never spend that much on a car, and I have it on good authority from Rick at the car dealership that Dad had words with the sales manager when he got the invoice.”
I had to take a minute to catch my breath before I could continue. “Why can I hear you tell me to calm down? You are supposed to be on my side and telling me what to do about Sawyer.”
And why was I arguing with a headstone? I laughed despite how distraught I felt. I lay back on the grass and looked up to the heavens. I could only see Venus in the distance. The hellish environment on the planet second closest to our sun had nothing on my situation. To love someone and know you could never have him was torture. It was like the lady at Baskin Robbins asking you what kind of ice cream you want, only for you to choose your favorite and have her laugh in your face and tell you you’d never in a million years get a taste of it. And it would be dangled in front of you for eternity. And just for the fun of it, let’s make him your stepbrother and best friend so you get an up close and personal view of each woman who wants to land him. And wow, there had been several. Our Southern Belle tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. They all had been as beautiful as Miss Shelby Duchane. Maybe not as sweet, but surely Sawyer would have been interested in at least one of them.
I should probably be a better friend and tell him to lower his standards, or at least get some attainable ones, but the thought of helping him find love made even me lose my appetite.
