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The elevator doors are nearly all the way open, but not quite. They seem stuck at the width of two people. “I’m not getting caught. Stand next to me.” I push Emily in front of us and we back into the elevator.
Natasha’s voice rings out, “What the fuck? You watched us?”
I shake Emily’s head, as Carter and I hide behind her body while holding her upright. Carter elbows me, “Say something.”
Reaching around, I take Emily’s hand and give Natasha a thumbs up. “Good job!”
The doors slide shut and Carter and I start giggling like crazy people.
Chapter 3
Safe in a cab, my phone starts ringing and just won’t stop. I look at the caller ID and see it’s Mom. Emily’s head is on my shoulder and she’s sandwiched between me and Carter. I don’t want to take the call right then, but she’s called at least a dozen times.
Swiping the phone, I answer, “Hey Mom. What’s up?”
Her voice is tight, higher than normal. “Kerry.”
“Yup, is everything okay? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
Carter looks at me with one of his overly expressive gazes. “Actually, Emily is in the middle of something. You are a bookend. Ooh! Tell your mom we’re having a threesome and you need to call her back.” He laughs, but stops abruptly when I reach across Emily and slam my fist into his chest. It’s a weeny punch, but shuts him up.
“What was that? You’re with someone?”
“Mom, no, that’s not—”
She ignores me, assuming that Carter is the someone. I guess she didn’t hear threesome. “Thank goodness, I was so worried you’d still be stuck on Matt. This is good news, honey.”
Humoring her, I nod, “Yup, I’m with someone and I’m over Matt.” That’s a huge lie, but my voice doesn’t hitch. I’m too preoccupied with Emily’s slumping body and how close her head is getting to my boob. “Shoulder. Stay,” I tell Emily even though she’s still out. Carter smirks and looks out the window.
“The thing is, I wanted to tell you before your father got hold of you. Honey, something’s happened.”
I straighten and clutch the phone harder. “Oh, my God! Is Daddy all right? What happened?” Carter glances back at me with concern in his eyes.
“It’s nothing like that,” Mom says and then pauses for too long. “Honey, are you sitting down.”
“Just tell me.”
“Well, you know these things are hard, but I’m happy. Please remember that because this part is hard.”
I’m worried about her. Mom has always taken care of herself. She doesn’t have that thing other moms have where they run themselves ragged and say yes to everyone and everything. Mom made sure she took care of her body, her hair, and if we needed something during her salon appointment—Daddy did it. He’d juggle his work schedule for her. Her words worry me; mom is his sun, moon and stars. He’d never intentionally hurt her.
“Just say it. Whatever I’m imagining can’t be as bad as you think it will be.”
“I’m not sure about that, Muffin.” I cringe at the nickname. “You see, I’ve been lonely and your father and I don’t get along well anymore. We have different goals in life.” I’m aware of that. My mom’s goal has been to look like a trophy wife and Dad’s goal has been to treat her like a goddess. It’s a pretty sweet deal, so I don’t know why she’d be unhappy.
“Right, and?”
“Well, I met someone, honey. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. He’s so sweet and he makes me feel alive.”
“You met someone? As in, you’re having an affair?” My voice gets too loud, too fast. Carter looks away when I glance at him, as does the cabbie. “What the hell are you telling me this for? You know I love Daddy. What am I supposed to do? Keep your secret?”
“Uh, honey, that’s just it.” Her voice quivers with uncertainty. “It’s not a secret anymore. He knows. He caught us and I was afraid he’d already told you. I wanted to tell you my side of the story since it’s my story.”
Her words echo in my head. It’s my story. She acts as if Dad weren’t part of their marriage, as if he isn’t affected by her actions. I’m shell shocked. My jaw tightens and I want to scream at her. How can she be so s
elfish? Maybe I’m overreacting. I’m not married, I don’t know what their relationship is like, but right now I can tell she’s asking for my support. I can do that. I can be supportive. Sort of. Biting back bitter words, I nod slowly and speak, not thinking about how sick the words make me feel. “Okay, I’m glad you told me.”
“Really? Are you all right honey?”
