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"Uh…" I shrugged helplessly. "If only I had such a great sense of humor. Or irony. Or whatever you want to call it."
Caroline raised herself to her full height and tossed her frosted hair over her shoulder. "I call it spite. I cannot believe you're doing this to me. I cannot believe that I'm coming home to this." She pointed at Kyle as though he were Exhibit A of my presumed guilt.
I shrugged again and rolled my eyes. "For once, Mom, you need to realize that not everything is about you. Now come upstairs, and we'll explain. You're making a scene." I looked around the lobby nervously, hoping that no one from XYZ was hiding behind a potted plant or teak column.
She looked taken aback—probably mystified by my tone. I normally sugar-coated everything for my mother. For once, I didn't have the energy. For once, my own problems seemed a lot more pressing.
My mother kept her mouth shut for exactly one minute. The peace ended when the elevator doors closed behind us.
She whirled toward me, eyes flashing and frosted hair flying. "When you said you were in Boston with a man, you never once mentioned it was this man." She turned to him. "Does your father know about this?"
He nodded.
"I'm surprised he hasn't had you two physically separated," she fumed.
"He's trying." Kyle looked as if he wanted to say something more, but I put my hand on his—a move that was not lost on my mother.
"You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady."
Kyle opened his mouth then shut it, a move that only made me love him more.
"You don't really have a lot of room to take the moral high road." I took in her expensive-looking cotton tunic and perfectly highlighted hair. "It's not like your typical behavior is beyond reproach."
"Don't you use your fancy words on me," she practically spat.
Although I was surprised she was so upset, I shouldn't have been. Pierce and Caroline hated each other. Even though it seemed he'd softened toward her during the years since their divorce, she hadn't budged an inch. She believed he owed her more than she'd gotten in the settlement, and she was still bitter.
My mother wasn't one to blame herself for too much. Or for anything really.
The elevator opened, and I tried to remember if we'd left any incriminating evidence around. Were my underwear somewhere on the floor? Were the champagne glasses still sitting on the counter? I hustled in first and picked up the glasses and kicked my damning underwear under the chaise lounge. I turned around and saw my mother frowning, her eyes trained on the spot where I'd just kicked my lace thong.
She looked at me. "What is going on with you? I read a magazine article on the plane that said you'd gotten drunk in public. And now this?" She jerked her thumb toward Kyle. "Have you gone completely crazy? He's your stepbrother. Isn't that illegal?" She turned and looked him up and down, his muscled shoulders clearly evident underneath his tight-fitted T-shirt. She turned back to me. "It's totally illegal. I'm sure of it."
"It's not illegal. We aren't related. We never were, and you and Pierce got divorced a decade ago. There's no scandal here."
Except for all the… scandal.
She snorted. "That's a ridiculous statement—there is only scandal here. Do you know what the press will do if they find out that you two lived under the same roof as kids? They're going to have a field day!"
Kyle shuffled his feet, and I twirled my hair.
My mother looked back and forth between us. "What," she said, not bothering to make it a question. "Why do you both look guilty now?"
I shrugged and washed the glasses. Kyle picked imaginary lint from his shirt.
"Answer me. One of you. Now." My mother folded her arms across her chest.
"Um…" I said.
"Uh…" Kyle said.
"Maybe you should sit down, Mom. And have a drink."
"A strong one." Kyle smiled at me. "I'll have one too, babe. Lowell. I meant Lowell." He looked sheepishly at my mother then immediately at the floor, as if he wished it would swallow him up.
"Make mine a double," my mother snapped. "Then please tell me what the hell is going on. I have a feeling I'm going to have to call Dr. Klein this afternoon and order a new Valium prescription."
You'd better make that a double too. I dutifully poured the drinks.
