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He had to be sixty with thinning hair, a tan that indicated he wasn’t from any cold weather state, and a friendly smile.
The fact that Mom was pretty much eye fucking the landscaping guys and Roger didn’t seem to care said it all.
This wasn’t her first guy-watching rodeo.
And this wasn’t my first rodeo with my mom.
“Yes. I’ve seen them. They’ve been here for days.”
She spun around, her long earrings swinging. Her eyes were bright with lascivious glee. “Oh, you lucky girl.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I can’t come visit my only daughter?”
Mentally, I rolled my eyes at her passive aggressive, spin the answer to point out my upset like a sociopath.
Yay!
“It’s cold out and you’ve got” –my gaze flicked to Roger– “company.”
She always came alone and between men.
With a careless shrug and a wave of her hand, she replied, “It’s been a long drive and I’m hungry.”
Her showing up randomly and unannounced wasn’t surprising. She never let me know when she was coming, but I didn’t remember her ever coming at this time of year. The only good thing winter was for, she said, was making the winter holidays look festive with the snow and a good reason to stay in bed.
While we shared DNA, I didn’t get her personality. I did get my red hair from her. Same with my green eyes. Where I was petite and well, buxom, she was tall and willowy. Her hair was fairer now, with threads of gray mixed in. I wore soft black leggings with a crisscross style gray sweatshirt. My hair was pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of my neck and I had on my chunkiest glasses. Underneath, I chose gray satin panties and bra.
I wore tinted lip gloss and mascara. And I wasn’t leaving the house.
Mom only wore natural fibers and avoided anything tight or restricting, including underwear. Or at least she used to. I didn’t ask for updates on that and fortunately, the sweater over her long cotton dress with the jagged edging hid the answer.
By the time I made it to the kitchen, Mom already had her head in the fridge. “You still cook your meals in advance each week.” She laughed as if I was a silly child, pulling out one of the five matching containers of chicken alfredo and holding it up. “Look, Roger. All her lunches and dinners are stacked up and ready to eat.”
“Mom,” I said, feeling the shame she always brought out.
“Honey, don’t hoard them like this,” she scolded. “There are fine, hardworking men outside right now just waiting for you to call them in and share a meal.”
She meant the Pearson crew.
She waggled her eyebrows and gave me a sly smile.
I tipped my chin down and eyed her through my glasses. “By share a meal you don’t meanshare a meal.Because if you did, you wouldn’t be teasing me about my meals, you’d be telling me I could offer some to four of them at once.”
She moved to the window to peek out at the crew as I spoke but stopped. Her eyes widened, probably because I never talked about the possibility of multiple men, even in jest. “If that’s how you like it.”
“It all depends on what a man likes to eat,” Roger said, his gaze raking down my body, continuing on with the original point, that I had amealto offer and I should give it out.
I got the innuendo and didn’t miss the creepy leer that went with it. Or the fact that while the man hanging with my mom was new, my mother herself and her fucked up life wasn’t. She was back, in my house, eating my meal plan dinner with and making me feel unsafe.
She was a hippie and had hippie-dippie ideals and values. Someone who shared partners for a night or even a few hours. That was fine and good for her, but pulling in her daughter who had zero experience or baseline on this lifestyle to make an informed decision?
Not okay.
In her mind, it was me. I was the one who thought guy-swapping was too casual. I was the one who had to flex and bend for her otherwise she’d keep shaming me as she was. And I still had to tolerate Roger’s uncomfortable looks.
“I might have to see if the dark haired one might want a side project,” she said, practically licking her lips as she peered out the glass.
