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“It’s not that big of a deal,” I mutter, knowing it is a big deal and trying not to freak out about it.
I mean, he already met my dad and neither one of us died. And the two of them talk on the phone now more than teenage girls use Snapchat. I know he said his mom was kind of distant and all about business, but he also said I would love her. I’m trying to reserve judgment about her always leaving him with nannies and not celebrating his birthdays with him because I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose your husband. And since he told me everything she did was out of love for him and securing his future, that means she can’t be all bad, right?
* * *
“Tell me exactly what she said to him and don’t leave anything out,” Cindy orders when I give up waiting for the coffee and quickly swap the carafe for a coffee mug until it’s full.
Putting the carafe back, I suck down as much coffee as I can without scalding my mouth, not even bothering to add cream and sugar because fuck that.
“I didn’t hear her end of the conversation, just Eric’s,” I tell her, thinking back to the two of us curled up in bed together earlier and how I groaned in protest when his phone rang and he rolled away from me.
“I’m sure she would love to join me for brunch, Mother, but I’ll ask,” Eric said as I jerked up in bed, yanking the sheet over my naked chest as if the woman on the other end of the line could see me.
“Yes, I’ll make sure she knows you’re excited I’m finally bringing a woman home to meet you instead of keeping them chained in my basement,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes at me before he continued. “No, Mother, that was a joke. I know you didn’t say anything about chaining women, and I’ll make sure to leave that out when I ask her. And besides, I don’t keep women chained in my basement. I live on a boat. I don’t have a basement. I keep them chained in my closet.”
“Yes, I do think I’m hilarious, thank you for noticing,” Eric sighed. “And yes, I will tell her to dress accordingly, even though that sounds rude and pretentious. Right, tomorrow at eleven. I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. I think I just peed a little. Yes, that was another joke. No, I did not soil myself, as you so nicely put it. I’m still housetrained. Yes, I will try and be on my best behavior and not embarrass you in front of Ariel. Okay then, good talk.”
Cindy sighs through the line when I finish telling her about the phone call.
“Well, she sounds like a peach. At least she told him she was excited to meet you and that she didn’t want him to embarrass her in front of you. That gives her a few bonus points,” she says. “What are you going to wear?”
“I was thinking pasties and a G-string, since I didn’t get to bust those out at Charming’s last night. You know, warm up the rude, pretentious woman up right off the bat,” I tell Cindy.
“Jesus God, I have never seen a couple more perfect for each other than you and Eric,” she says as I walk around the island, set my coffee cup down, and run my hand over the ceramic bust Eric got me at the flea market.
Every time I look at this thing it makes me smile and reminds me of the day I’m pretty sure was the first moment I knew I was falling in love with him. He gave me back a piece of myself by starting my new collection of antiques. And even though this thing is ridiculous, it means more to me than he’ll ever know that he realized how important it was that I have something like it where I live.
“Ariel Waters? Are you down here?”
Turning away from the island when I hear someone shouting from up on the deck, I look over at the stairs in confusion as a shadow passes over them from above.
“I gotta go. Someone just showed up on my boat,” I tell Cindy, promising her I’ll call her back later so she can help me pick out an outfit for brunch tomorrow.
Rushing across the living room, I stop at the base of the stairs and look up, shocked as hell at who I see looking down at me.
“Ursula? Ursula from the courthouse?” I ask as she makes her way down the stairs when she sees me.
Sure, come right on down, don’t wait for me to invite you or anything.
She’s wearing another fancy, tailored business suit similar to the one I saw her in that day I turned in the paperwork, and is smoothing back her perfectly styled short grey hair as she gingerly walks down the last few steps and meets me at the bottom. Dread starts pooling in my stomach—Why in the hell is she here?—but I quickly squash it away. She wouldn’t have come all the way out here instead of just picking up the phone or sending me an email if she just wanted to give me bad news. No one does that. Even someone with a bitchy attitude. I feel like it would be beneath her, and a waste of time. I can only hope that this personal visit means all of our paperwork was approved and I won’t have to tell Cindy and Belle that I fucked everything up.
