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Anything I wanted or needed, I bought myself.
When I graduated college at twenty-two, Mom was my first web design and internet marketing client. She handed out my cards like personalized invites to a swank gala and before long, I had more work than I could handle.
My mother was my biggest fan and a steady source of encouragement and thinking outside the box.
The day after the bridal party’s first dress fitting, Mom arrived at my condo. She wore a stunning cream silk blouse and dove gray pants, heels, and had her black hair twisted into an elegant chignon.
“I’m taking you to lunch.” I started to reply and she shook her head. “Iknowyou’re working but it’s Sunday. Have lunch with your mother.”
I grinned. “You’ve really got that guilt thing down.”
“I do.” She picked imaginary lint from her sleeve. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
Half an hour later, we sat across from each other at one of her favorite restaurants and I waited to hear what she wanted to talk about.
“I’m sorry, Petra.”
I sipped my glass of wine. “Hmm. The dress fitting, you mean? As if we didn’t know she had something shitty planned.” I shrugged. “Soon enough, all this will be over and I’ll have plenty of reasons to laugh at her.”
“I love her…but I don’t like her at all.” Hearing the admission from my mother sent me into a fit of the giggles. “Stop laughing. It isn’t funny. It’s a terrible thing for a parent to say.”
“It’s honest. Don’t beat yourself up. I haven’t liked her since she turned eleven.”
“I’m proud of you for taking the high road.”
The snort I issued made her smile. “Not sure about the high road, Mom. I get my digs in every chance I get.”
“Do you know why I insisted you be her maid of honor?” I shook my head. “She can stand next to you and own it.”
Eyes wide, I murmured, “Mom…payback?”
“Everyone in our family knows what she did, Petra. Why make it easy for her?” Her expression contorted into one of disgust. “That she’s insisting onmarryingthat idiot is another dig.”
With complete respect, I said, “You’re diabolical.”
“Naturally, darling. Where do you think you get it?”
We clinked our glasses and spent two hours talking foolishness and eating way too much.
Her driver parked in front of my building and I grinned at him from the backseat. “Thanks for delivering the lush safely.”
Demetrius chuckled. “Always a pleasure to see you, Petra.”
The year my mom finally secured her divorce from my deadbeat father, she built a charming pool house behind the Spanish-style mini-mansion where we grew up. The house was built in 1920 and she designed the new addition to match.
When it was finished, she hired Demetrius as her driver and assistant. He was several years older, handsome, and Greek.
Mom moved him in and immediately attained a calm that escaped her for more than a decade.
They shared a grownupfriends with benefitsarrangement I envied. His presence was the only thing that kept her sane while living with my sister.
I leaned over and kissed my mother’s cheek. “Thank you for lunch. I’ll be useless the rest of the day.”
She smoothed my wild hair over my shoulder. “Exactly why I like to spring our little dates on you occasionally. You work too hard, darling.”
Arching a brow, I teased, “Says the woman who never puts in less than sixty hours a week.”
“Touché. However, I have extracurricular activities that relieve the stress of being a workaholic.”
