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“Mom got married and I’m pretty sure she’s replaced me with a blonde. Well, blonde-ish.” I stepped around a young couple and their dawdling toddler.
“What?” He could have laughed at the statement but, like Mack, he understood. I explained the whole sorry situation, including her insistence that I be at Thanksgiving even though I wasn’t required at the wedding.
“She’s not replacing you, Chase, you are utterly irreplaceable for pretty much anyone who meets you.”
“What about Tommy?” Two days after we broke up he was making out with Sarah in the middle of the cafeteria.
“Tommy was an idiot and only dated Sarah because she looked like you.”
I sagged. Mom might not actually be replacing me but that didn’t change the fact I didn’t fit with their new family. I hadn’t even met the other two yet and I was confident it was true.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
The long pause was not the most encouraging thing in the world. “I’m okay, sorting myself out. Nadia and I are officially over, we can’t file for divorce—yet—but we’ve seen a therapist together for some closure and things are amicable. I fucking hate that word, but it fits.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, and that things are not terrible. Does this mean you’re coming home?”
“I will be, but not just yet, I’m trying to do all this right, and rushing … it won’t help.” I had a feeling he meant Jemma, but didn’t want to push. So long as he was planning on coming back eventually, I could live with that.
“What will you do for Christmas?”
“Hang with Keiran, his new place is incredible. I’ve been helping out here and there, finding my feet again. It feels good.”
“I’m glad. I wish I could give you a hug. I miss you, Nash.”
“I miss you, too, Chase.”
We hung up with a promise to be better about speaking to one another. I knew why I hadn’t called him before now. I’d been scared out of my brain when he went back to LA, scared that he’d get back together with Nadia, scared that he’d never come home. But none of that had happened. The relief was real.
With an awkward shove,the door to Rudi swung open and I stumbled inside with my overstuffed grocery bags. After the conversation with Nash and the trip back from Queens, I should have calmed down. And I had, a little, but the anger was still simmering way too close to the surface. I hadn’t expected to feel so betrayed by seeing Mom make herself comfortable somewhere else. But seeing our things in that place had left me all sorts of mixed up. Maybe I had managed to trick myself into thinking that it wasn’t that serious. I was wrong. It was serious. Not just because they were married, either, but because Mom wasin it. That house wasn’t just his, she put her stamp on it in numerous ways. That should have made me happy for her. It didn’t. I was the only one not drinking the Kool Aid. The only one who was concerned about the speed at which all of this was happening.
Aubrey, from what I’d seen, had accepted Mom with open arms. Better than being an asshole, sure, which was probably how I came across whether I wanted to admit it or not. Even the way Aubrey said Mom’s name made me feel like I was intruding. Like they were already this perfect family—Mom, Dad and the perfect blonde-ish daughter—and then there was me.
When Mom started talking about the Secret Santa I hit my limit. I did not know these people. Why the fuck would I want to buy a gift for one of them? Have one of them buy one for me? No thank you. But, of course, saying that out loud wasn’t an option because I didn’t want to be the grinch along with being the odd one out of our new family. So, I kept my mouth shut and kept on smiling my wooden smile as I shoved another mouthful of pie into my face and sipped my lukewarm tea.
Then I cried on the subway, which I didn’t think I would ever do but it did have the positive side effect of stopping anyone from wanting to sit next to me, so there was that.
I just didn’t understand what was so wrong with our family that Mom felt like she needed to go and get herself a new one?
I was not going to keep thinking about this. Not while I was trying to keep my shit together in front of Mack and my staff. And I would keep my shit together. All I needed was a little distraction. Hence the groceries.
Mack was talking before I could see him.
“So Greyson called and he’s been throwing up since this morning, trying to blame my fucking pie but it was obviously the three day old curry he ate for breakfast yesterday.” He paused, eyes taking in the various items now littering the previously clean bar. I’d managed to contain it to a corner at least. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Nothing, just thought I’d, you know, tweak the cocktail menu.” My cheeks were already hurting with the effort of maintaining this smile. I fished the microplane out of the utensil jar for the ginger and lemon and scooped some ice into a shaker.
“And when you saytweak,you mean…”
“Overhaul,” I finished for him.
“Uh huh…” The two syllables were thick with an understanding that I did not appreciate one bit. This was the problem with someone knowing you as well as Mack and I knew each other. He was well aware that this was classic Chase avoidance and would not be shy about calling me on it. But I plowed on nonetheless.
“I realized that with all the wedding stuff, and then how busy we’ve been since, I hadn’t given a winter menu any kind of thought.” This was at least true.
“And you thought today was the right day to do that?”
“Yep.” I popped thep. “I’m thinking a riff on that mulled wine we did last year, maybe an apple cobbler martini, something fresh but warming, like the ginger fizz from the wedding but maybe with… pear, or tangerine. We just need to mix things up.” I added a healthy pour of vodka over the ice in the shaker.
