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“What’s going on, Nash? Just tell me.”
I gripped the steering wheel of the car, trying to find the right words, but I was at a loss. There were no right words to describe something so wrong.
“Mom,” I started, clearing my throat. “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, and I’m sorry for doing it tonight, but there’s something you have to know.”
“I’m listening,” she said impatiently. “Out with it already. Please.”
I met Sariah’s gaze in the rearview mirror. She nodded.
“Dad’s cheating on you, Mom.”
She laughed. “That’s absurd, Nash. At our age? We’re past the point of one of us running around on the other.”
I pulled into a random strip mall parking lot and backed into a space, putting the car in park. I turned in my seat and focused on my mom now that I wasn’t driving anymore.
“He’s been cheating on you for a while. I know because he asked me to get him tickets to a hockey game in New York and when I went to surprise him there, he was with her.”
There was a pause. “With who?”
I shook my head. “Sandy. That’s her name. I’ve been telling him for two years now that if he didn’t tell you, I would, but I never had the balls until tonight, and I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry about all of it.”
She looked straight ahead, the color draining from her face.
“Sandy,” she said softly. “The woman from his office.”
I sighed heavily.
“You’re completely sure?” she asked. “For two years?”
“At least. That’s when I found out about it. It’s why I don’t come home anymore, because I hate him for what he’s doing to you.”
“Oh god.” She opened the car door, bent over, and threw up right there in the parking lot.
Sariah exited the back seat of the car and went to my mom, staying away from the puke while pulling a cloth handkerchief from her handbag and passing it to my mom. Then she put a hand on her shoulder.
“Whatever you need, Nita, just tell us. We’ll take you anywhere you want. You can come stay in one of our rooms at the hotel if you want.”
My mom sat up, laughing without a trace of amusement. “Oh, we’re going back to the party. But first I need some water.”
Sariah’s eyes locked with mine, neither of us saying a word for a few seconds. When I snapped out of my shocked state, I reached for the bottle of water I’d put in the middle console at the airport.
“Here’s some water, Mom.”
She opened it and took a long drink.
“Okay, let’s head back.”
“Mom, I’m not sure—”
She gave me a stern look. “I love you, Nash, but we aren’t debating this. Take me back right now.”
Sariah got in the back seat and closed the car door. Silently, I put the car back in drive and headed back toward the hotel. I left my car with the valet and Sariah and I followed my mom back to the ballroom. It was clear from her expression that she was a woman on a mission.
“What the fuck is happening right now?” Sariah hissed at me. “I thought we’d go to a bar or something and get drunk with her.”
“I don’t know. This caught me off guard, too.”
When my mom walked back into the ballroom, she was once again all smiles. As she made her way toward the stage, she stopped to say hello to someone.
“Portia, so good of you to come. How’s Richard feeling?”
I stood near the back of the room with Sariah, watching with a mix of horror and deep admiration as my mom made her way onto the stage and motioned for the string quartet to stop playing. As soon as they did, she took the microphone from its stand.
“Everyone, can I have your attention, please?”
The conversation quieted as everyone turned to look at my mom. Sariah took my hand. I was pretty sure we were both holding our breath.
“Thank you, everyone,” my mom said, the picture of grace and composure. “I’d like to ask my husband Carl to come up on stage with me for a toast.”
My gaze cut to my father, who was standing in a group with several other people, one of who was Sandy. Fucking asshole.
He smiled, set down his drink and made his way up on stage. When he got there, he kissed my mom on the cheek and put an arm around her.
“This is not what I imagined would be happening,” Sariah whispered.
“Everyone, Carl and I can’t thank you enough for coming tonight,” my mom said. “We’re celebrating thirty years of marriage.”
The crowd clapped and the gentle clang of metal on glass sounded. My father moved to kiss my mother, but she spoke before he got there.
“Carl, can you tell all our friends and family how many of those years you’ve been cheating on me?”
