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“Salmon of course.”
“Of course,” I murmur. It’s her favorite so I don’t know what I was thinking.
“The meal needs to be healthy. None of that diner food, you understand me? Alastair is a specimen of health and is very conscious of what he puts into his body.”
“Boring food. Got it. Anything else?”
“Chill a few bottles of chardonnay. There should be plenty in the wine cellar but we need it upstairs so we don’t have to go in search of it.”
She continues to list all the things that need to be done before this Alastair arrives and informs me she’s going to be busy for a few hours. She has someone coming to do her hair and makeup and with a few outfit choices because ‘she has absolutely nothing to wear’. The woman with three closets full of designer clothes has nothing to wear. Right.
The doorbell rings, a haughty cadence that has always annoyed me.
“That should be my style team. Get the door, will you?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I tell her, feeling like it’s absolutely why I’m here.
A horrifying thought hits me at that moment.
Is Alastair here for a… date? Am I her servant because she fired everyone else?
I think I’m going to be sick.
I guide Mom’sstyle team– blech – to her room where she’s waiting for them and then pull my phone out of my pocket to call Cash.
“Hey, you. How’s it going?”
“I have no idea what’s going on here but it’s strange.”
“What do you mean?”
“First of all, Mom thinks I’m moving back permanently, like this isn’t just a one-day visit.”
“Fuck that.”
“Exactly. I was upstairs when her doctor called and told her she does have cancer but that’s the extent of what she would tell me.”
“Shit.”
“I know nothing else because she won’t talk about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ask her questions and she acts like I’m crazy. I don’t know if she’s just pretending it’s not real or if she assumes it’ll just go away if she doesn’t’ talk about it. She fired all the staff in the house, who have been with her for ages. Claims Dad asked her for a divorce but I honestly am wondering if that’s true or not. I haven’t been able to reach him because of the time difference. On top of that, I have to cook dinner for someguestnamed Alastair who’s coming tonight. With diet restrictions of the boring sort. I’m now allowed to cook anything that tastes good. Just food that’s healthy because according to my mother this Alastair is a health nut and cares about the food he puts into his body.”
“What the fuck?”
“Right? It’s all so weird. I’m starting to think she’s gone off the deep end. Like more than she already was. Tell me something good so I can ignore the dumpster fire that’s happening here.”
“Got more details on Mom’s Granny basketball thing she’s doing.”
I let out a loud laugh that echoes in the living room from the tall ceilings. “Please tell me everything.”
“Get this. It’s likegrannyGranny basketball. She’s the youngest one on the team. By far. And by far I mean decades. There are a few ninety-year-olds playing. And playing is a very loose term. They aren’t allowed to run or jump. It’s six-on-six so they don’t go past the center line, which is probably good considering most, if not all of them, likely have heart conditions.”
“Oh my gosh.” I giggle.
“I know. Take a wild guess as to what the grannies wear during their basketball games.”
