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“I don’t care.” She tuts. “It would be worth it. If he fucks like that, he can do what he wants to me.”
We all giggle.
“What a way to go.”
An hour later, I get into the elevator in my building and my phone vibrates in my handbag. I dig it out. The name Phyllis lights up the screen.
Shit. Nathan’s mother. I’m supposed to be making the fucking birthday cake. I haven’t spoken to Nathan at all. What am I going to tell her?
I steel myself to answer happily.
“Hi, Phyllis.”
“Hello, darling.”
“How are you?” I smile. I really don’t have to pretend to be nice. I adore this woman.
“I’m so looking forward to seeing you both this weekend.”
“Did you speak to Nathe?”
“No, he’s not answering his phone. He must be working.”
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s not working. He’s just not answering her. I speak to his mother more than he does.
“Yes, he must be,” I lie.
Jerk.
“Listen, darling, I was wondering… do you think I should get some extra catering in for Saturday night?”
“Why?”
“Because all these people who weren’t originally coming have all messaged me and are now coming after all.”
“Oh. Have you added to the menu since we worked everything out?”
“No, and now there are close to sixty people coming. I’m freaking out that I don’t have enough food. Do you think that would be enough?”
“I’ll have to look at our list but don’t worry, we can make extra if we need to.”
Nathan’s mother doesn’t have a daughter. I’m it.
“I don’t want you cooking all day on Saturday,” she says.
“I really don’t mind. You know I love cooking.” And besides, it will also mean less time I have to spend with him.
“Oh, darling, thank heavens I have you. Jessica offered to help but we both know what her cooking is like. I’ll leave her to drink wine with us while we cook.”
“She’s good at that.” I giggle. Jessica is Nathan’s brother’s girlfriend. She’s hilarious, and it’s true, a terrible cook who burns everything she touches. But she definitely entertains us in the kitchen. “I’ll look at the list and call you back, okay?”
“Okay, speak soon.”
I hang up and text Nathan.
What time is our flight tomorrow?
He texts back.
