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All this yoga has been fabulous for my jet-lagged body. I feel like a million bucks. “So, did you guys get a chance to really talk last night? Are you still sorting stuff out?”
“We talked.”
“And…?”
She sucks smoothie through her straw. “He’s still refusing.”
“Refusing what?”
Maggie hesitates.
“Come on, talk to me,” I beg. “I’m your friend, right?”
Against all odds. Because of Trent.
Once Maggie and Trent started dating, me and Maggie started hanging out more, too. Now, when I count the people in my life closest to me, Maggie’s way up there.
“We are,” she says. “But you’re his sister. I’ve really wanted to talk to you about this since December… But I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
I wave a hand. “Ha. Awkward? I can handle that.”
Trying not to think of Cole as eye candy was awkward, this morning.
So was resting my head on the same abdomen I ogled, during yin yoga. I kept thinking about what the hard eight-pack I was lying on looked like, and that made it sort of hard to “feel hissolar plexus chakra line up with my third eye chakra,” like Skye instructed. But that kiss when we were in line at the breakfast buffet…
That kiss felt incredibly natural.
It was actually out-of-this-world good, and it feltright, almost like we were an actual couple.
Not awkward at all…
Which is worrisome.
Yes, I’ve imagined kissing Cole. I used to do that quite a bit, back when he and my brother first started hanging out. He was Trent’s cute new friend, and I was a teenager with a knack for having crushes.
And yeah, my first crush—technically—was probably on Cole. But I pulled out of it and we’ve been better off as friends for the last decade plus.
It’s confusing to find out that kissing one of your most annoying, pain-in-the-butt guy friends feels like fireworks. I slurp smoothie and realize suddenly that Maggie’s talking. I haven’t heard a word, though. I better start listening.
“...respect the fact that she’s your mother, too, and it’s unfair to ask you to form an opinion. And it’s hard to talk about this with you, without wanting you to take my side. I mean, I know that’s probably not fair, but that’s honest. I love how Skye’s trying to get us to be honest, don’t you?”
“Um… yes? But can you back up, please? What was that you said about mothers?”
“My issue with Trent. What we’ve been arguing about for months now. It has to do with your mom.”
“Beryl?”
I stopped calling Beryl Scott “Mom” when I was sixteen years old. That year, I worked my butt off at a hotdog stand all summer long. I saved every penny and bought two tickets to see an outdated rock-and-roll singer Iknewmy mother was nutsabout. She promised she’d visit and go with me. I had the outing all planned out, a mother-daughter evening to end all mother-daughter evenings.
And she blew me off. She was in town and everything. It was one of those occasions when she breezed into Silver Creek, stayed in a friend’s apartment, and barely made time for me and Trent. She claimed missing the concert as a mix-up, later on. She claimed she got the date wrong, was sure it was the following night. But I’m sure she didn’t feel like facing me—because, yes, I usually gave her a hard time about living so far away—and didn’t have the decency to break my heart in person.
I can still remember standing in my grandparent’s living room, clutching the tickets, waiting for her to pull up so we could drive off together, heading to our night of fun.
It was like I thought I had to earn her love, with those tickets. How sad is that?
I knew my mom liked excitement. Flash. Fun. I knew she liked music and dancing, and I figured if I bought her an expensive ticket, we could dance under some showy pink and blue lights to loud musictogether. And I promised myself that I wouldn’t guilt trip her or whine about how she lived in California. But she didn’t show up, and I threw the tickets in the trash. I decided that very night that I would never think of her as “Mom” again.
Gigi raised me. She and Grandpa Ray. My mom and dad were barely in the picture. I guess having kids wasn’t really their speed. Getting divorced, drifting around California, and picking up acting gigs were the activities up their alley.
