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“So, one lemon cookie and anything else? Irma, do you want coffee or anything? Mother? We have iced tea. It’s fresh. We made it this morning.”
“I’d love an iced tea! Regina. Do you want one, dear? You look flushed.”
My mother nodded silently, and a pained whine peeled out of the back of her throat.
“Okay, so two iced teas and one lemon cookie. That’ll be twelve fifty,” I said.
“Thank you, darling,” Irma said as she fished a twenty out of her lacy handbag.
I handed her the change; only then did my mother move. She gripped my wrist until the veins popped, “We’ll talk about this later,” she hissed.
I gulped and nodded, instantly transported back to when I was a child and I knocked over her Tiffany vase while playing soccer inside.
I was a wreck for the rest of my shift. I didn’t have it in me to text Jasmine or Sebastian to make arrangements for my will. I hoped Jasmine would take good care of Sebastian. There was no way I would make it out of this alive.
When I walked out into the back parking lot, my mother was there waiting. She sprang out of nowhere like a pick pocketer.
“Jesus Christ! Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing! What the hell were you doing back there? Was this some sort of prank you arranged with Eugenia? Make me eat sugar and see you dressed like some sort of scullery maid? Who put you up to this?” She asked.
“No one! It’s my job! It’s my business!”
“Your business? Since when?!”
“Since I turned twenty-one,” I said. My voice got quiet. “Dad co-signed the lease after I agreed to marry Sebastian,” I admitted, tears bubbling in the corner of my eyes.
My mother inhaled sharply. “He bribed you?! He bribed you like a fucking child to help out the only family you’ve ever known? And you accepted it? So, you could play-act at being a business owner!” My mother exploded. Her face was beet red; her eyes were venomous slits. She leaned in dangerously close to my face; I could smell her perfume. Her breath was hot on my cheek.
“You are the most immature person I have ever met,” she hissed.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to do what your family asked of you without begging for a present from your Daddy like a child! Is that so hard? Wait a second. Does Sebastian know about this?! Dear God, Rebecca, this is a disaster!” My mother cried.
“He knows. He likes it. He thinks it’s impressive, unlike you! He’s actually proud of me for once!” I was fully yelling now.
“You may think that,” Mother began.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, it’s not some delusion I’ve been harboring! I know he’s proud of me because he tells me every day, unlike you! I don’t know what your problem is. I don’t know why you’re physically incapable of being proud of me,” I said.
“I’m not proud of someone as greedy and deceitful as you. I will be speaking to your father about this,” she declared.
“Don’t waste your breath! He knows, too! He thinks it’s cool! When I signed the deal with the supermarket in Dover, he went out and bought a pack of cookies! They’re in the cupboard. He’s okay with this. Sebastian’s okay with this. It’s you—”
“Me? If Sebastian and your father want you to debase yourself, that’s their problem. I’m ashamed of you. I expected better from you. This is not how I raised you,” she said primly.
Tears were streaming down my face. “Well then, how did you raise me? You didn’t want to raise me to be strong. Support me? I wish you’d say you’re proud of me, just this once,” I was begging now. Tears were streaming down my face. I longed for my mother to do anything, but she stood there frozen in her spot. Finally, she shook her head.
“I’m going to need some space,” she said before walking away. I realized I hadn’t even unlocked my car. I climbed into the driver’s seat and broke down, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel as I sobbed. A call came through on my Bluetooth speaker, it was Sebastian. I pressed accept.
I picked up between sniffles.
“Hey Becks, I’m in Dover looking at that property—hold on. Are you crying? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, sounding suddenly alarmed.
“She kn-kn-knows,” I blubbered, my chest heaving.
“Who, your mom? About the pregnancy?”
