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Sure enough, there was Mother Dear, tossing back a white Zinfandel and 7-Up, her signature cocktail. “You think she drinks that just to punish us?”
“I do, yes,” Connor answered.
Colleen took a sip of the sangria. “So this mystery woman, Con, she must be dying to meet your beloved twin.”
“Not really.”
“She is. Admit it.”
“We’ve been on three dates, Colleen.”
“Sex?”
“No comment. And you’d better not be sleeping with Lucas.”
“Really! So you’re doing it. Good. Is she blonde? I bet she is. She is, isn’t she? Lovely. You know, Con, for a while, I thought you were gay. Figured you and Jeremy would make a great couple—”
“Okay, fine. I’ll shut up about Lucas if you’ll shut up about everything else.”
She smiled over the rim of her glass. “Deal.”
“Just don’t come crying to me when he—”
“You know what? I’m gonna go talk to Mom. It’s come to that.” She walked over to their mother. “Hi,” she said with a dutiful kiss.
“There’s your father and That Whore.”
“Yes.” Savannah was somewhere, then; Colleen scanned for her sister. Hopefully, she’d be off playing with some other kids; but more likely, she was hiding inside, eating in secret so Gail wouldn’t chastise her, poor kid.
Stan, Stan the Hairy Man was nowhere in sight. “No date for you, Mom?” Colleen asked.
“No,” Mom said, not taking her eyes off Dad and Gail. “That Stan was quite unappealing, it turns out. A little too fascinated with his work. All he could talk about was infected bowels and intestinal parasites.”
“And that put you off, did it?”
Her mother still stared at Dad, who was excellent at not seeing his ex-wife. His hand was on Gail’s back, just above the legendary ass.
Poor Mom.
“Here’s the thing, Colleen,” Mom said slowly, and Colleen braced for bitterness. “I never got over him. I should have, I wanted to, I know he cheated on me and I know he’s completely over me, but I still love him.”
There was no bitterness. And no false naïveté, either, no “lapse in judgment” excuse. It was, horribly, just a fact.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she whispered, squeezing her mother’s hand.
“I’m a laughingstock.”
“No, you’re not! You’re great. They love you at Blue Heron, and you have a lot of friends, and—”
“No. I’m a laughingstock, a menopausal idiot who didn’t know her husband was cheating and made every excuse in the book for him.”
Mom’s eyes were full of tears, which made Colleen’s eyes fill, too, because if there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was her mother crying. “You deserve better than Dad.”
“Well, where is better? I’m ready for better! That hairy colon doctor wasn’t exactly better, asking me about how many times a day I—”
“Hey, Jeanette, how’s it going?” It was Bryce. He leaned in and kissed her mother. “You look as gorgeous as always. We’re just bringing out the watermelon.”
Weseemed to meanPaulie,who held a giant watermelon in each arm. And for some reason, she’d donned a yellow Thneed.
