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“No, we will get along just fine, Natasha, as long as you keep your claws out of my son,” she sneers. My blood is boiling.
Cameron interjects. “That’s enough, Mother.” Ok that’s it, that’s the last straw and I can’t hold my tongue any longer. I ‘m feeling unstable. I stand and lean my hands on the table as I lean my face closer to hers.
“I have absolutely no plans. None! To get my claws into your precious son. But let me tell you this.”
“Natasha,” Bridget whispers, “that’s enough.” She grabs my hand and I jerk it out of her grasp. “If, and that’s a big if, I decided to get my claws into your son, you had better be prepared, because not even the devil himself could stop me.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why you conceited little bitch.”
Cameron coughs. “Seriously. That’s enough, Mother.” I look across the table and Joshua is in shock I think. He looks like he’s going to faint.
“Now I have had enough,” I shake my head. “I’m leaving.” I stand and throw my serviette from my lap onto the table.
Joshua stands so quickly that his chair falls back and hits the ground. “Natasha, don’t go,” he pleads.
“Sit,” I snap as I point to his chair. “Mummy dearest here wants to breastfeed you and we couldn’t have you upsetting her. Get your nappy changed while you are there. It will save you time later.” I hear Bridget and Cameron stifle a giggle.
I walk into the kitchen. “Mum, I have to go. I just got paged from work.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, darling. Ok, I will call you tomorrow.” I don’t remember getting into my car. I just know I am off the charts boiling mad.
Josh runs out to the car. “Natasha, don’t go. She’s just mad.”
“Josh, get the fuck away from me, you coward.” I poke him in the chest. He steps back.
“Tell Cameron I said thanks for defending me.” His face drops at the realisation it was his brother who defended me and not him.
“Natasha, please, she’s my mother. I was just trying to diffuse the situation.”
“And what am I?”
He shuffles on his feet as he rubs both hands through his hair. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he sighs.
“Stupid questions,” I shriek. This man is a total idiot. “Oh that’s right, I’m your fucking booty call. Go inside. I just lost interest in you…Big Time!”
“Tash, please,” he begs as he grabs my arm.
“Get your filthy hands off her.” Oh shit, it’s Brock.
“Not now,” Josh snaps at him. Brock grabs Josh by the shoulder and Josh turns to Brock.
“Don’t start your fucking shit, Brock, or you will be out cold on the fucking pavement.” Brock grabs him by the shirt and Josh slams him up against the car.
“Let me speak to her alone,” Josh snaps. “This is none of your business.”
“Fuck off,” Brock yells.
“Stop it, you idiots,” I yell and the two bodyguards come running across the road. I am too mad to care about either of them and the sudden distraction allows me to pull out and I speed off down the road. Hot tears of frustration pool in my eyes and blur my vision. I don’t think I have ever been this mad. We will get along just fine as long as you keep your claws out of my son. The stupid movie screen in my head plays and replays the words again and again, each time with more venom than the last. Who was I kidding—she will never accept us. And then there’s Amelie. That’s a whole different world of pain and I know it’s true I could see it in his face; he has serious feelings for her. How deep they run I don’t know—have they slept together? My tears well again and I pull the car over, unable to see the road any longer. I put my elbows on my steering wheel and weep into my hands. My car rocks intermittently as the cars zoom past me at speed on the freeway. They have common interests; she loves horses like him. She lives in his house. They have a bond. He lied to me again. He takes her away and, oohh, the pain slices me again and I sob…New Year’s Eve, the lump in my throat begins to hurt as I hold in the tears. He spends them with her…every year. Margaret knew exactly her target tonight and she hit it in a bullseye, attacking my insecurities. My mind wanders back to the past New Years and I break into full–blown sobs. At twelve o clock every year I have thought of him, wished he was here with me and he was kissing someone else. Spending time with someone else…probably on frigging secluded islands and shit. Someone he cares about. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man run up to the side of the car and I jump in fright. I quickly start my car and hit the central–locking button. Tap, Tap, Tap. To my horror a man I have never seen before is tapping on the window. I start to panic until I see Josh’s bodyguards standing on the side of the road next to the car, which I now notice is parked behind me. My heart jumps and I quickly look around to see if he’s here, but of course he’s not. He’s with his bitchface mother. I slowly wind down my window and the guy has the gall to look embarrassed now that he sees I’m crying like a baby. He is in his early forties, bald and tough–looking, and has the whole Bruce Willis vibe going on.
“Are you ok, Natasha?” He gives a sympathetic smile at me.
“Fine,” I snap as I wipe the snot from my nose on the back of my hand in such a feral manner I even surprise myself. “Who are you?” I demand. He smiles and steps back, making eye contact with the other two.
“Um, I’m your bodyguard,” he says quietly in an American accent, as if speaking to a child. “What!” I scream. “I don’t have a bodyguard. Why in the hell do I have a bodyguard?”
“I?
??ve been with you for three weeks,” he whispers, thinking that would calm me down.
