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“I care about you, Lindsey, and I just don’t see this working out. I’m sorry, I want to be supportive, but I can’t.”
Now I was getting pissed at her close-mindedness. It surprised me; after all of the years she had stayed in a clearly loveless and unrewarding marriage, that she would still be judgmental about people, particularly having done her stint as a pole-dancer and having an affair with a biker-boy named Slate. It was really hypocrisy, plain and simple.
“You know, Mom, I’m really disappointed in you. How is it that you were able to fall in love with Slate when clearly you have some major snobbery going on?”
“No, just a minute, Lindsey. We are not talking about Eric here, we are talking about Taz. There are major differences.”
“I don’t know about that,” I replied. “I see a lot of the same characteristics in them. How can you be so judgmental about Taz, yet with Slate, you think he hung the moon?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Lindsey, I like Taz, I really do. He’s Eric’s best friend. He’s a good agent, I trust that he will always have my husband’s back when they’re out in the field, but he isn’t as grounded as Slate. He’s been with a lot of women, honey.”
“You know what, Mom? I think you have selective blinders. Don’t you think Slate went through his share of women, too? I bet for every story Slate has told about Taz, there is one Taz could tell about Slate.”
I heard Bryce up in his room. He was whining to get out of his crib. It was good timing because the argument Mom and I were having was going to get ugly if I stuck around.
“I need to go get Bryce. I’m sorry that you feel the way you do, Mom, but for now, Taz is in my life so you’ll just have to accept that.”
I left the room, feeling bad for arguing with her, but strong in my resolve that I would manage my relationships without parental interference. If she had done that, perhaps she wouldn’t have wasted nineteen years on a marriage that had been a façade.
I bathed, dressed and fed Bryce. I then took him into Mom’s room and asked her if she wanted him to play in there for a while.
“That’s fine,” she replied, not looking at me. I got him situated on the floor with his play blanket and toys, telling her I had the intercom on if she needed anything.
So, I guess things were going to be a bit strained for a while. It was Saturday, so I phoned Darcy to see if she had made it home for the weekend.
“What’s going on?” she said when she answered.
“Nothing. Everything. Are you in D.C. this weekend?”
“Absolutely. I was going to give you a call. I have plans with Darin today and tonight, but want to meet for lunch tomorrow afternoon and catch up?”
“Sounds great,” I replied. “Slate will be back this afternoon so I get a breather for a while.”
“Perfect,” she replied. “Listen, I’m with Darin now, so I’ll call you around noon tomorrow to set up the time and place, okay?”
“Yep,” I said. “Talk to you then.”
CHAPTER 37
I could tell by the way Slate looked at me that Taz had filled him in on our relationship. Although, the fact that Taz hadn’t bothered to phone me now that this field operation seemed to be over, had left me wondering if there really was a relationship.
I had changed out of his FBI hoodie before Slate arrived home. There was no need to rub salt into the wound, as far as Mom was concerned. We had barely spoken since the argument this morning.
Slate hadn’t been in the house for a full ten minutes when he picked up on it. I had just put Bryce down for a nap after Slate had greeted him, when I heard their voices from the master suite.
“So, you knew about this fling then?” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation. “How long were you planning on keeping me in the dark?”
“Hey, Sammie, it’s really none of our business, now is it?”
“I don’t want to see my daughter hurt or treated like, like one of his whores,” she said, getting emotional.
“Sweetie,” Slate said to her, soothingly, “Taz is a good guy. You know I sowed my share of wild oats before I met you, right? It just takes a good woman to see how empty that kind of life can be. Maybe Taz is at the point.”
“And what if he’s not, Eric? I don’t want her hurt.”
“Babe, no one goes through life without getting hurt. I can tell you this; Taz is not playing a game with her. He would never do that. So whatever happens with those two happens legitimately and without our interference, okay?”
Thank you, Slate!
