It was about ten years too late to worry about a stepbrother. I mean, I was almost thirty years old. Getting excited over finally getting siblings would be vastly overrated at this point. I sighed into the phone. There was no use in trying to talk her out of this. She seemed pretty set with her decision, so in order to make her happy, I was going to act happy. At least until I met this said stepbrother and stepfather I was getting.
I put on my fakest smile, as if she could see me through the phone. I tried to sound upbeat when I replied back to her, even when on the outside I was dying little by little. “When’s the big date?”
“Well, that’s where we have a problem …” she began, only to go silent the next second.
I was about to check my phone to see if we’d been cut off. Service in New York was terrible, so that was a legitimate possibility. The screen was lit up, showing that she was still on the phone. Putting it next to my ear, I waited for her to reply. Which wasn’t long at all.
“We’re getting married Sunday,” she whispered.
Cocking my head to the side, I strained to hear what she had said. “What was that? I could have sworn you just said Sunday. Are you meaning this Sunday?”
“Um … Don’t be mad. But we’ve been engaged for quite some time now. I just didn’t know how to tell you,” she finished in a hurry.
“How long have you been engaged, Mother?” I asked sternly.
“Do not take that tone with me Claire Gabriella James. Remember, I am your mother.” She ended her rant before speaking in a softer tone. “We have been engaged for two months now. The wedding is indeed this Sunday.”
Well double fuck me swinging. This woman surprised the shit out of me every day. She was so off the wall that she could fart glitter and no one would question it. This was so fucked up. How was I supposed to meet a new stepfather, who was probably my age, and a new stepbrother mere days before the wedding? I mean, come on, this was pretty messed up shit.
I groaned. “That’s in five days, Mother. That’s not even a week from now.”
“I know; I hate that I didn’t tell you. You don’t have to worry about anything. Promise. I have everything taken care of. All you have to do is be down here tomorrow night for dinner with them.”
“Tomorrow?” I asked incredulously.
This woman really was giving no one time to get anything settled. She better be glad that I was a workaholic and had vacation time saved up. I had half a mind to tell her I wouldn’t be there. But I knew that would break her heart, and that was something that I absolutely could not do. She has been there for me during the entire aftermath of the douchebag. So I would put on my big girl panties and be there for her, too.
“Please say that you can get time off,” she begged.
I smiled. It wasn’t often that my mother begged me for anything. But when she did, I felt on top of the world. That without me being there she would not be able to survive. It filled my heart with love every time she did it.
“You better be glad that I love you,” I chuckled, pushing the button on the elevator so that I would go up to the top floor. “Because I’m heading to my boss’ office right now.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she rushed out in excited squeals.
“No need to thank me, Mom. Just make sure if you have something this important that you please tell me sooner.”
“Okay… Then I have something else to say … Will you be my Maid of Honor?”
My breath left my lungs. My mouth hung open in shock. I knew that we were close, but I didn’t realize she would ask me for something so important. I figured she would ask one of her friends she had at crochet club, or whatever the hell it was. But not me. My eyes started tearing up. It had been so long since I’d actually cried for something good. That was just how my mother was though; it was always something good with her.
“I’d love to.” I choked up at the end. It was then I remembered I didn’t have a dress. “Oh shit. I don’t have anything to wear.”
She sighed. “Everything is already taken care of, sweetheart. The only thing you need to worry about is getting here by tomorrow night. Oh, and that you're able to stay until after the wedding—at least.”
As the elevator dinged, I stepped out. “Sure will, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait. It’s been too, too long,” she giggled.
“It’s not been that long,” I argued.
She cleared her throat. “It’s been ten years since you’ve been home. The only time we see each other is when I come up there for a visit.”
I started thinking of the last time I’d been there, and she was right. That dreadful, earth shattering day had been my last time there. What the hell was wrong with me? I was so busy that I couldn’t visit my own mother that was a mere eight hours away.
“That’s right. Damn, it’s really been that long?” I asked, stepping through the door to put in my emergency vacation request of time off.
“Yes, it sure has. But darling, I have to go. Call me when you’re on your way.” With that, her side of the line went dead.
After putting in for my time off, I went to meet Alex at the restaurant where she texted me she’d be. I was so lost that I almost got off on the wrong floor—more than once. I would definitely need more than one margarita on this lunch break. The phone call with my mother threw me for a loop and a half. I let out a half-crazed laugh before exiting the elevator. She didn’t know how to do anything half-assed, that was for sure.
Taking my time, I walked through the turnstiles and exited the building. As I stepped outside the July sun beat down on me. I inwardly groaned at the wild mess I knew my hair was going to be—thanks to the humidity—by the time I made it to Alex. No amount of hairspray was going to fix the frizzy mop on my head. Searching through my bag, I found a hair tie and pulled my locks into a ponytail.
A vivid flashback stopped me in my tracks. It was of Brad pulling the hair tie out of my hair at school—the same day he found out that I loved him. I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes tight, willing the memory to leave me. It was going to be hard enough to go back to my hometown after being away for so long. Just thinking about him would make it harder.
Pushing him from my mind, I continued on to the restaurant. Walking for seven blocks in four-inch stiletto heels was not for the weak, not by any means. But to me it was another day in paradise. Opening the door, I was met with a cool blast of air. I sighed, letting the cool air envelop me. It was not a pretty sight to see a woman sweating all over the place. I wasn’t about to be that freak of a woman that looked like she just stepped out of a gutter. Nope, no way.
Spying Alex in the corner, I made my way to her. I shimmied past people that had their chair too far away from the table, and people that just did not have any reservations about themselves as a couple grabbed my ass. I rolled my eyes and continued on, daring not to make a scene. I was already too keyed up from the phone call. I wasn’t about to let the men in here, who I was sure had too much to drink, get to me.
Just then I saw a person that I did not want to see. Brett. Just my fucking luck, too. Brett had been a fling I had a few weeks ago. I shouldn’t say fling, no. That would be giving him too much credit. Half-assed, one-night stand was more like it. I cursed when I saw him walking toward me. I had almost made it to Alex, but I wasn’t fucking fast enough.
“Hey, Claire.” He smiled brightly, pulling me into a hug.
“Hello, Brett,” I greeted.
When he didn’t let me go, I cursed Alex for choosing this place. Damn, she was going to hear it.
“I was wondering if you want to get together later. You know, we could go back to my place…” he seduced.
I inwardly gagged. “Nope. There’s no possible way I can do that. I have to leave town tonight. Sorry.”
Yeah, I’m so not sorry.
He let me go and stood back searching my eyes. “Well, maybe a different time then?”
“Maybe.” I replied, turning around to go.
He caught my hand and kissed the back of it, winking before he left to go back to the bar. If he had been a great lay and his breath didn’t smell like shit, I would have swooned over the gesture. But the fact that he always, and I do mean always, smelled like onions was a major turnoff. Oh, and the fact his pecker couldn’t please a damn blow up doll. Faking orgasms is a lot harder than you think it is.
Trust me, three-time champion right here. Story of my fucking life.