I turn around. “See, the thing is, McCarthy, I don’t believe you.”
“I thinkI’m ready to go on that bridesmaid retreat after all,” I tell my mom when I’m back at the commune, dusty and smelly.
It’s probably good I didn’t give in to McCarthy. I mean, could you imagine showing up at his pristine penthouse like this?
I definitely didn’t make a mistake.
“I’m so excited!” My mom flits around. “We’re going to meditate in the mountains, ring bells at midnight, seek our food from the earth and the bushes and the grasses, and heal our wombs with crystals.”
“That does sound healthy and cleansing; however, I’m going to skip putting rocks up my snatch because I don’thave health insurance and I don’t think Hannah’s going to be able to fish them out.”
My mother stills for a moment.
“Jenna-bug, why are you always so negative?” She reaches out to my tangled hair. “Embrace life, embrace uncertainty.”
“I’m not negative. I’m realistic. Life is shit, if we’re being honest.”
“Life is beautiful. Did you see the bumper crop of zucchini we’re having? What a blessing!”
“A truckload of zucchini isn’t a blessing, Mom. It’s work, endless, smelly work.”
“You like chutney!” my mom cries.
“Aaand this is why I said I was never moving back home.”
“Something told me you’d reconsider. I could tell your soul is yearning to be refilled. You need to refresh and recenter.”
“So I can’t convince you to just do a nice spa day at the Soundview Hotel?” I say to the sky.
My mom’s not listening. “This retreat will be good for you. Restorative. It will be just like when you were a little girl, before you were corrupted by the corporate world and the city.”
“You call it corruption; I call it needing to pay bills because I’m apparently not desirable enough to have a man love me enough to support me and my whims.” I can’t stop the sharp words. “Unlike you, men don’t care about me even when I pour my whole soul into them and leave nothing for me or the people I actually care about.”
“Jenna.” Mom sighs and pulls at my clothes. “You’re pretty; you just need to stop going after men like your sperm giver.”
“Yeah, fuck me for wanting a man who pulls his own weight. You know what? I’m not having this argument with you anymore. Maybe this retreat’s not such a good idea.”
“You never want to spend any time with me.” My mom pouts.
“Because I always have to take care of you, make sure you’re not, I don’t know, giving away our life savings to some traveling shaman you met out kayaking.”
My mom starts crying. “I don’t know why you aren’t my friend anymore. We used to be best friends.”
“We weren’t friends. You just thought so because I did whatever you wanted. Now I don’t want to. I don’t want to live in a cabin. I don’t want to have a revolving door of men in my life. I want nice things and to live in a nice, basic beige house with HomeGoods décor. I want to eat at bougie restaurants and spend twenty dollars on a cocktail, and travel to resorts, and stay in fancy hotels, not a random leaky yurt in the middle of a field. I guess that makes me shallow or whatever and a disappointment to you, but yeah, I like nice things.”
Now my mom’s sobbing. “I tried to give you a good life.”
Man, it really is annoying when people just randomly start crying when you’re trying to have a conversation. This was probably why McCarthy went nuts—because I couldn’t stop crying. I am unlovable.
I blow out a breath. “Look, that was mean. I’m sorry. It’s fine, Mom. Let’s just plan your bachelorette party,Naked and Afraidedition.”
“I always wanted that close mother-daughter relationship, and I ruined it.” Willow sniffles.
I pat her back. “Me, too, but I wanted something likeGilmore Girlsand you wantedThelma and Louise, so we really had different visions of what that relationship was going to be.”
“I did try, Jenna.”
“I know you did. It’s okay. I’m just tired.”
