1. Que te folle un pez espada - fuck a swordfish (screw you) (Spanish
twenty-one
Cleo
My mother and Ihave a strained relationship and it all started after she left my dad and I.
Lorelei Smith was my idol growing up. I did everything to appease the heart of my mother and looking back at all the time I wasted wanting her to love me makes me sick.
I figure skated for fourteen years to make my mother proud and we both know how that ended, but did you know that she hadn't congratulated me once in that time? I don’t want to talk about it, but I also think you should know these things before I tell you about the brunch from hell that I’m currently at.
When I was seven, I won my first gold medal for figure skating. My mother was at the Vancouver Olympics that day—which was fine. I know that she’s an important athlete but when I told her all about my win, her response was “mommy is busy, Ceej.” It was fine the first time but after winning first place over 200 times in fourteen years, hearing the same response can be tiresome.
Gloria always congratulated me, though. She became the mother I never knew I needed, considering my own was still perfectly alive.
My mom and I have only ever agreed on one thing, me going to Brighton University just like her. And well, we all saw how that went.
“So…” Lorelei breaths out the word, looking down at the menu of Café Iteri, the industrial style café just ten minutes from campus.
The restaurant reminds me of an industrial greenhouse, with plants hanging from incandescent light fixtures in the ceiling. The walls of the restaurant are a mix of large windows, allowing in the natural light from outside, and mixtureof black and gray brick in the spaces between. We’re sat at a table along one of the windowed walls, seated in plush brown leathered armchairs.
I agreed to meet my mother here this morning after a nice long call from dad, begging me to just talk to her, after I'd ignored her messages.
Putting my parents against each other never ends well for any of us, especially my dad. He usually gets upset while mom gets temperamental. And me? I just become quiet during it all. Which sucks because my brain screams at me to say the most outlandish things the entire time.
“How has Summerfield been treating you?” Lorelei questions me. Her tone is bland as she continues scheming over the menu as if this isn’t the first time the two of us have spoken to each other in six months.
A quiet chuckle is my only response as I follow in her footsteps and look over the extensive laminated paper.
Hmm… they have calamari. What café on a college campus serves calamari at noon?
“Why are we here, Lorelei?” I tilt my head at her, setting the menu down with a frown.
She texted last night while I was with Ryan and Tatum and told me to meet her here at noon without further explanation.
After she’d sent her last text, I tried ignoring her. I truly did. But then Blake texted me, that idiot. He'd sent me a random gif, you know… the one of the smiling Yorkie wearing a bow? Yeah, that. I can’t lie and say he didn’t pick up my somber mood, because he did. His text gave me a reason to laugh that night, it was like he knew how I was feeling even though we weren’t near one another.
Then after Blake texted me, Dad called and in my happiest moments, I agreed to meet with my mother. And well, we all can see how that's going now.
The air between my mother and me feels like thick water. Almost like it is supposed to be fluid and easy to drink but there’s just a strange thickness surrounding us that makes it hard to swallow whatever is going on between us.
“We’re having this meeting because I miss my daughter—”
Bullshit.
“Do you miss me or does the press? I saw you posted up on Rodeo Drive with that drummer, Lorelei. Claiming you can’t wait to expand your family. What family are you expanding? The last time I saw you was six months ago,Mom,” I snap, and for the first time in a long time, I feel secure to keep going. To fight back even though I don’t think I’ll be the one winning. I’m not usually one to disrespect authority but… I just…Fuck.
“Lower your tone,” she hisses, looking around at the onlookers in the café. Lorelei leans in closer, her electric blue eyes are sharp and vibrant against her deep brown skin as they narrow on me.
“You will not disrespect me. Cole and I—”
“The drummer.”
“My fiancé.”The words are so quiet coming from her lips, I almost don’t catch them.
But I do. I catch every single syllable.
My heart stutters and I’m taken aback. For just a moment, I feel like the little girl that was so excited to be in the same sport as her mom but so disappointed when she'd never see her mom in the bleachers cheering for her.
