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On her ring finger, she’s wearing a thin gold band. He captures her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles and my stomach lurches.
I jolt to my feet and clamp my hand to my mouth as I rush across the room to the small wastepaper basket by the coffee maker. I heave up my hotel breakfast as shouting breaks out behind me.
“Oh, give me a break—”
“. . . was always ungrateful…”
“I thought she’d be happy—”
“She’s in a sensitive state—”
I continue heaving until it’s all up, and then tie the garbage bag to seal it.
“Here, dear,” Ana Lucia says, handing me a paper cone of water. “Heaven knows I remember those days.”
I take the water and drink it back, even though it does nothing to relieve the nausea or the sour taste.
“Now that you’re done with your dramatics, why don’t you sit your ass down and listen to your mother and I?” Kyle says, his arm wrapped around Momma and a scowl thinly disguising a smirk.
“Now, there’s no need for such strong language, Mr. Marcetti,” Ana Lucia says.
He smiles back at her and says something under his breath that makes Momma laugh.
“When?” I ask. Even though I don’t really want to know the story of how my mother married her pimp.
“Oh, it’s been at least a couple months, I’d say.” Kyle scratches his balls and licks at his teeth. “Yer momma was all ornery one night—”
“I was not,” she squeals, smacking him. “You were being an ass. All ‘I’m a man and I can piss where I want!’” Momma mocks him, howling after.
“I am a man and Icanpiss where I want. And I can fu—”
“The wedding?” I interrupt, not wanting to hear the rest of this aside.
“Oh, well it had been a long time coming, see?” Kyle says, leaning back in his chair, crossing his flip-flop-clad feet at the ankle.
His toenails are yellow and gray and I wish I hadn’t looked at them because now I’m queasy again.
“We were just talking about the future and how we’re both so free,” Kyle continues, looking at my momma. “You know, nothing tying us down. And that’s what we want out of life. To be together, but not hold each other back. To be free together.”
It’s bullshit. I can see through it right away. He needed her to marry him for some stupid reason, or maybe the other way around. And he wants to still be able to sleep around and make money off of her. He kisses her and Ana Lucia interrupts them immediately, making Momma open her mouth and stick her tongue out.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Megan?” Ana Lucia waves at my chair. “And we can get back to finding a way to talk about this. Finding a way to support Mona, who we all love very much.”
But Momma doesn’t look at me. Not even once.
“Is that what you want, Momma?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Already feeling yet another little cut to my heart. “Do you want me to sit down?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back, looking anywhere but me. I swallow hard, ready to leave so she doesn’t have to answer.
“I didn’t ask you to come,” she says.
My mouth forms a little “oh” shape and I stare at the ground.
“That may be true,” Ana Lucia says, guilt edging into her sweet, grandmotherly face. “But the fact is, she’s here. Wouldn’t you like to hear what she has to say?”
“Not really. No.” Her words are sharp and final. But the real dagger comes when she laughs. She laughs, the same way she did when I told her I was pregnant.
My eyes glass over and I squeeze my hands into fists, taking a fortifying breath before I cross the room to pick up my purse from the floor where I left it. Momma won’t look at me as Kyle talks to her under his breath.
