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Didn’t work. Mom smelled the coffee and the debauchery on me, probably.
She plucked a mug from the cupboard as she eyed me. “Late night last night?”
“Just went out with friends for a bit.”
“Alyssa?”
“No. Just other friends.”
“Hmm. Something’s bothering you. A mother can tell.”
Fuck. She wasn’t gonna let this go. I had to give her something, or she’d just start looking to fill in the blanks herself. “It’s nothing. Just boy drama.”
She watched as I got out the cream and dumped a generous dose into my coffee. “That boy in San Diego? What was his name?”
“No. Not him. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
I could feel her disapproval. But I ignored it as I stirred my coffee and slid the cream her way.
“You remember why I named you Jolie?” she asked me as I was about to slip away.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Because it means ‘pretty’ in French. You are so much prettier than I was at your age. You always were.”
I looked at her, surprised. She never said stuff like that.
“You’re also so resilient.”
“Mom, are you feeling okay?”
“Jolie. Don’t look at me like I never tell you howincroyableyou are.”
“Uh, you don’t, really.”
She looked shocked. “Well, then maybe I should.”
I hesitated, stuck on what she said. “Resilient?”
“Very. When you moved yourself down to California, you wouldn’t even take any help from me or Jacob. And when things didn’t work out at your father’s place… well, you picked yourself up and took care of it. You’ve taken care of yourself down there all on your own for three years. I never did anything like that.” She settled back against the counter, gazing at me. “I moved straight from my parent’s house to your father’s. And after that first divorce, I moved us in with Uncle Bernard. Then it was marriage after marriage, and in between, we stayed with my sisters. Even after the last divorce… I still lived with you. Then I moved straight from our shared home into this one. I’ve never been on my own. But you…” She gave me a soft smile. “You’re so independent. Such an intrepid, resourceful young woman. Just like your aunts have always been. And just like your cousins.”
Oh, Christ. It was kind of her to say, but my life was a disaster. I was nowhere near as established, successful or ‘resourceful’ as my aunts or my cousins. I could only dream of having my shit together like Dani or Danica already did at this age.
But Mom came over to me and cupped my face in her hand, and I didn’t have the heart or the will to argue with her right now. “So,” she said. “Whatever this ‘boy drama’ is about, remember your worth. You are a fine young woman who deserves love and respect and a grand life filled with happiness and adventure. Don’t ever settle for less.”
I drew back a little bit, awash with guilt and subtle heebie-jeebies that my mom was touching the same face that Shane had made out with last night.
I could smell him on me.
And her words were making me feel mushy.
“Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled. “I’ve gotta go shower. I have work to do.”
“Sure. I know you’ve been working hard on the wedding. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries.” I picked up my coffee to head back upstairs. The fact was, I hadn’t been working on the wedding enough, what with all the spiraling and the stalking. If I didn’t get working today, I’d just end up obsessing about what happened last night.
Interestingly, Shane’s RSVP had arrived this morning, by courier. He’d finally confirmed his attendance at the wedding. I didn’t want to think that had anything to do with me, but I had to wonder…
