“Of course you deserve it. Where are you?”
“Paris. It’s beautiful. And busy. So much busier than what they show on TV.”
“I’m sure.” I had no idea what the time difference was, but it had to be late there. Or early. “What time is it?”
“After three in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. I just kept picturing you all alone in your apartment, eating ramen for Christmas dinner.” The slight slur to her words said she’d—deservedly—been passing some of those sleepless hours with alcohol.
“I’m not, Mom. A friend invited me out. We’re having a nice dinner. I am not wasting away, nor am I overdosing on sodium.”
She took a few sniffling inhales. “I should still be there with you. This is our first Christmas like… like… likethis. And I abandoned you because I thought it would be easier for me. That’s why I do everything. I’m just as selfish as your father. I knew. I knew he was up to something, but I buried my head in the sand because it was easier for me. I left you alone because it would be easier on me. I couldn’t spend Christmas in that house because it would be easier on me to be across the world. But all the memories. Everywhere I looked, I saw another one. Ifeltanother one. All my dreams for the future. I thought we were so happy. I thought—” Her words cut off abruptly as a choked sob tore its way from her shattered heart to pour through the phone to eviscerate my insides. “I thought we’d be watching our grandbabies open their presents in that house one day, and now it’s all ruined. I can’t even go into the backyard because just seeing the movie screen makes me want to buy a new set of golf clubs to destroy everything.”
My own tears streamed down my cheeks at the devastation and betrayal in her voice. I hurriedly swiped at them as her last sentence registered. “What’s wrong with the backyard?”
“He used movie night as a chance to go seeher. Foryears.”
If I wasn’t already sitting, her words would’ve taken me to the floor.
Those movie nights with the OGs and Wren and Maddie were such an integral part of my life. They were some of my happiest memories.
No.
Theyweremy happiest memories.
The few hours a month that were about fun and time together. Even in the middle of finals or heartbreak or whatever stress was out in the real world, going home for movie night always fixed everything—even if only temporarily. It was our chance to revert to carefree kids who vegged out in front of a screen.
And he’d sullied that with Gloria.
Fucking Gloria.
Josh’s gold-digger mother who whined and moaned and tried to sleep with her son’s friends. The same woman who the OGs were unflinchingly kind to. They’d always included her, inviting her to cookouts and parties. Hell, when Easton had come to my house to meet with my dad, the OGs had wanted to invite Gloria over for a little manufactured meet-cute.
Clearly that wouldn’t have worked since that man only had eyes for Maddie, but the thought had been there.
And in return for their compassion, Gloria had slept with my father.
And rather than stick around to be present when I probably could’ve used him, my father had ditched out to be a cheating bastard.
I amsonot going to see him.
Not tonight or tomorrow.
Mom must’ve belatedly realized she’d overshared, and she worked hard to backtrack. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want you to hate your father. He wasn’t a great husband in the end, but he wasalwaysa good dad. And he loves you so much. I really shouldn’t have told you that. I’ve had a lot of wine. Too much wine. Please, say something. I’m sorry.”
Even with all he put her through, she’s trying to defend and protect him.
I couldn’t deny that I’d felt betrayed by his cheating. If he would’ve just left my mom, it would’ve sucked, but I also would’ve understood. People fell out of love all the time. His affair—which had apparently been going on for a lot longer than I’d considered—wasn’t just splitting our family apart. It was breaking it. Shattering it. It was rubbing rock salt in a gaping wound.
And that was without the addition of his illegal practices.
The combination of everything wasn’t just sad for me as the child of an impending divorce. It shook the foundation of who I was. My father wasn’t the great, infallible man I’d grown up admiring. The one who made me push myself because he expected the best, but more than that, he made me want to be the best. I was no longer Greer Moore, with the parents who were cool and hip and madly in love. I didn’t have this shining example of how love could overpower all the bullshit in the world. My shit love life wasn’t the exception. It was apparently the rule.
Most love sucked. It was fake. A show. Something that was apparently all too easy to turn away from at the first set of fake boobs and a whiny voice.
I wasn’t going to share any of that with my mom. I did my best to hide my own tears, shoving happiness I didn’t feel into my voice as I stood on shaking legs to pace the room. “I’ll forget you said anything,” I lied. “And I already told you, I’m glad you took this trip. You deserve the distance and time and, yes, even the wine.” I meant all that, and I hoped she was too tipsy to hear the difference in my tone between my truths and lies. Just in case she wasn’t, I tacked on a distraction. “I’m sure the food there isn’t too bad, either.”
“It’s so good,” she forced out through another sob, sounding distraught at the fact. “I wish you were here.”
“Next time,” I said. “You should get some sleep.”
