Laney
THE REGISTRY GUN beeps as I add a sterling silver platter to the wedding registry for Kam and me.
“Oh, nice choice,” my mother compliments.
“I thought so. Dad’s Thanksgiving turkey will look great on it.” I laugh.
“Always thinking of others. That’s my girl,” she comments sarcastically as she squeezes me with one arm. Spending time with my mother these past few weeks has been beyond amazing. I can’t remember the last time we spent more than seven consecutive days together. I’m getting too used to her being around, and the fact that she is so involved with helping me plan my wedding is completely spoiling me.
I wish she didn’t have to travel so much. I wish she would put down roots, preferably close to where I live. But that is a pipe dream. My mother loves her job. She lives for it, much like Kam lives for his.
We peruse around Bloomingdale’s, looking at household items to put on the registry. I’m half distracted thinking about my big presentation Monday morning. I am finally revealing my designs to the partners at a business brunch. It’s a risk because the building is so conservative, but I really think this added piece will work.
“Penny for your thoughts?” my mom asks as I stare off into space in front of a display of vases.
“Hmmm?” I snap out of my haze.
“You were daydreaming. Thinking about Kam?”
“Oh, no. Not at that moment. I was thinking about my meeting. I’m nervous,” I confess as the glass dances with sparkles in front of us.
“Nervous about what? Presenting it?”
“If they are going to be receptive to the idea. If it’s too out of the box for this project. You just never know. This design could make or break me in the firm.”
“I have all the confidence in the world it’s going to knock their socks off.”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t doubt yourself, Laney. Confidence is the key to success.”
“You would know. You’re a rock star in business. It seems all the people I love are superheroes in their given field, and I’m just . . .” I shrug. “Normal. Average. Human.”
“Laney,” my mother’s voice elevates as she turns me to look at her, “you are not average. You are amazing. You’re strong, smart, funny. Do you think just anyone can love a man like Kam or a man like your father? No. And let me tell you a little secret. Superheroes need humans to strive. You’re what gives us our power.” She takes my face, her blue eyes full of love and compassion. “You are still so young. You have so much to learn and such an incredible career ahead of you. Even if the partners don’t go for the idea, they will respect your initiative, and you will stand out to them for your creativity. Trust me, I know. A smart professional who shows promise makes an impact. Believe in yourself. I do. I always have. Even when you were five and you told me you wanted to fly helicopters, I believed you could do it.”
“That’s still on my bucket list,” I divulge.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Please, promise me you won’t compare yourself. Just be you. It’s why we all love you.” She kisses my forehead. I nod.
“Good. Now let’s go look at luggage for the out-of-this-world honeymoon I’m going to send you on.”
“Mom.” I grab her arm. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But you are my only daughter, and I want to. Besides, who better than me to plan a trip? I know all the good spots,” she whispers conspiratorially.
“Can it be someplace tropical?”
“Definitely.” She drags me through the store. Just as we get into kitchenware, I stop short.
“Oh, my God.” I hurry to a mannequin wearing an apron. It’s pink, frilly, obnoxiously sparkly, and proclaims “Queen of the Kitchen, Bitch” proudly across the top. In fuchsia lettering, no less.
“Laney, really?”
“It’s perfect.”
“For whom?”
“Kam.”
“‘Scuse me?”
“It’s a joke. I have to get it.”
My mother curls her lip in gaudy disgust. “If you must.”
“I must.”
I pick up Kam’s present from the kitchen counter. I had it wrapped in shiny silver paper. I tried to call him before bed last night, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I know what happens when he goes out with his teammates. Mayhem, but he at least usually sends me a goodnight text. I will make sure to give him plenty of shit for ignoring me when he gets home.
I smile to myself. Kam has always made it way too easy.
I’m supposed to be meeting my mother for breakfast so I won’t be here when Kam gets home. I’m saving this baby for later. I can’t wait to see his face. Hopefully it makes him laugh. I miss hearing Kam laugh. I miss seeing his easy smile.
I pray this weekend did him some good.
Finishing the last of my coffee, I hear something that catches my attention during the celebrity gossip portion of the weekend news.
“A few New York elite were caught partying it up last night at a popular strip club right outside Myrtle Beach,” the newscaster in plaid excitedly exaggerates. I spy on the television screen close to a dozen familiar faces escaping out the front door of the club with a few girls mixed in. One face gains my full attention as the broadcast goes on. “It seems New York’s golden boy didn’t miss out on any of the fun. Wonder what the future Mrs. Ellis will think?” the man mocks as the video freezes on an image of Kam in the limo window with an obnoxious red arrow pointing at his neck. It feels like I’ve been slapped in the face in front of the whole northeast. Kam smiling with a gigantic hickey displayed proudly on his neck. Rage ignites inside me like I’ve never felt before.
When I told Kam to go blow off some steam, I didn’t mean with a fucking stripper.