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“Mom, where are you now? I’ll come meet you in twenty.”
“I just got to your apartment—”
“What?” I yelled as I ran toward the door. I had hoped to meet her halfway, but when I opened the door, there she was, dressed in a soft peach suit, her hair tucked behind her ears. With the phone still in one hand and a plate of freshly baked muffins in the other, she turned, staring at me in confusion. “Why are you—”
“What are you yelling about so early in the morning?” Guinevere stumbled out of the living room, coming to stand beside me at the door. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, her dog walking over to rest beside her.
I stared at her, speechless, before glancing back to my mother, whose eyes widened in realization; I did not like whatever she was thinking right then. “Mom, this is Guinevere Poe.”
When I said ‘Mom’, I saw Guinevere’s head snap toward my mother.
“Wow, this looks really bad. We were drinking last night—no, I mean—crap, nothing happened.” She rambled on, quickly making me want to bang my head against the beam of the door and beg her to shut up.
My mother took a step forward, a grin growing on her face. “Wait, did you say Guinevere Poe? As in the artist?”
“Yes,” I answered. “And I’m sure she has a lot of work to get back to.”
“Yeah, a lot of work,” she repeated.
I stepped out of her apartment. “We should get going …”
“Wait.”
My mother broke away from me as I tried to lead her back to my place.
“We were just going to have brunch at the coffeeshop on 5th. Please, join us. I’ve been trying to get into your studio for weeks, but it’s damn near impossible.”
“I’m not really presentable.”
I’ll say.
My mother laughed. “Presentable? Who are you presenting yourself to? You look lovely.”
I coughed at that.
Guinevere glared at me before returning her attention to my mother.
“Don’t mind him, he’s worried I’ll embarrass him. But, I made muffins.” She gifted one to Guinevere, whose stare drifted to me as if to scream for help.
I opened my mouth to say something…anything, but nothing came to me. Clasping my hand over my mouth, I shook my head, not really sure what to make of the situation.
Why did we fall asleep? We had drunk and talked all night about our crappy lives… I vaguely remembered going back for more wine before everything became a blur.
“Okay, how about I meet you there in a half hour, if that's all right?”
She'd caved…the weakling.
They chatted for a second longer before my mother let her go, and I opened the door to my apartment. When inside, she hit me on the shoulder.
“Mom!”
“How can you be next-door neighbors to Guinevere Poe, knowing full well I’m in love with her work, and not say a word!”
Rolling my eyes, I walked into my kitchen, grabbing an aspirin and water. “Because she isn’t Guinevere Poe to me. She’s the fiancée of the man who ran off with Hannah.”
“What? That was her?” she whispered slowly, taking a seat on my couch, most likely as the whole scene replayed in her mind.
“You mean the second most-humiliated person on my wedding day? Yeah, that was her. Sebastian Evans was her fiancé.”
