when witches and mamas
become one
Avery
“Where were you today, Ms. Carpino?”
Link has said in a roundabout way his mom was a bitch, but I thought he just meant generally. Lots of women can be a bitch from time-to-time. Nashville’s a big place. I had no idea he meant his mother was the bitch.
I’m pretty sure she’s the leader of the cult.
Dr. Eubanks is also known as Dr. Witch to many undergrads at Vanderbilt. She’s the one professor everyone tries to avoid, but she’s the only one who teaches Child Psych and I needed to check it off the list so I could move on. I had no choice but to enroll in her class.
She called me out in front of everyone when I missed her lecture last time and who knows what she’ll do after I skipped again today. I don’t understand why she can’t be like every other professor on earth, letting their college students dig their own educational graves without being humiliated in front of their peers.
“Wait.” Link looks from his mother to me. “You two know each other?”
I open my mouth to answer, but, of course, she doesn’t allow me to speak. “Ms. Carpino is in my Monday-Wednesday-Friday nine o’clock class. Although lately, her attendance has been spotty. But now that I’ve found her here with you,” she flips a hand toward her son, “it makes sense. Of course, you’re a bad influence.”
I look at Link who’s staring at me with a what-the-fuck expression mixed with an apology, even though he can’t help that his mom is the Bitch Queen. He points to his mother as he asks me, “She’s the professor you were telling me about?”
My stomach drops before I mutter, “Link.”
“For God’s sake, Lincoln, can you not find a woman your own age at that bar of yours?” Dr. Eubanks rolls her eyes and I wince before Link turns to glare at his mother.
Taking a place by my side, he crosses his arms and demands, “What are you doing here?”
Probably because of the stick up her ass, Link’s mother stands straight, towering over me in her old-lady pumps—they shouldn’t even be classified as heels—she’s tall, at least five-ten. Putting one hand to her hip, she gracefully smooths her shoulder-length bleach-blond hair before leveling her blue eyes on her son. “You haven’t returned my calls and I want to inform you of our plans for the holidays. Your father and I have decided to use the time off at Thanksgiving to take a trip to New York City. There’s a traveling artifact exhibit from the Elizabethan Era your father has been dying to see and I’d like to take in a few shows—maybe do some shopping. We will be here for Christmas, and since you won’t answer my calls, I came to extend an invitation.”
All I can think of is thank goodness for the Elizabethan Era, whenever that was, and that she made the point to invite her son to Christmas. What kind of mother is she?
“You could’ve left all this in a voicemail,” Link sighs, as if the Forester/Eubanks Holiday Schedule is hurting his brain. But given his mother, it might. “We have plans for Thanksgiving,” he pauses and throws me a smirk before finishing, “and I’m going to Nebraska for Christmas.”
I still haven’t uttered a word, but my eyes widen when he informs me he’ll be coming home with me to experience a Carpino Christmas. He has no idea what’s in store for him.
“Nebraska?” Dr. Eubanks sneers, as if Link were thinking about celebrating the holiday in a third world country.
Link smiles as if there’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than pissing off his mother. He puts an arm around me, pulling my stiff frame to his side. “Yeah. I’ve never seen Nebraska.”
Dr. Eubanks narrows her eyes on her son before they slice to me. “Well, then. We’ll just have to hold out for Easter. Maybe this will have blown over by then.”
“Not gonna happen,” Link chimes happily before lowering his voice. “And you’d better stop giving Avery shit in class. I know you’ve been brought up in front of the board before for questionable ethics toward students. You might be tenured, but don’t pretend that didn’t strike a blow to your inflated ego, not to mention a mark on your career. Leave her the fuck alone.”
I tense at his words and pinch his side to get him to shut up. I don’t need anyone spurring on Dr. Eubanks—she’s bad enough as it is.
Her face flames as she glares at her son. “I cannot believe you’d talk to me like that. I don’t know what she’s told you, but I’ve done nothing wrong. She could stand to take her education more seriously.”
Link pulls me closer. “For your information, she had a bad day yesterday. She was attacked in the library on campus. She’s fine now, but I think she deserved a morning off.”
Dr. Eubanks’ eyes come to me and widen. “That was you?’
Word must travel fast across campus. I hitch a shoulder and open my mouth to say something, but Link butts in. “It was. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re on our way out.”
She tucks her clutch under her arm in a huff. “Your father and I would like to see you more than twice a year.”
“Really?” Link asks. “Or do you just need me to show my face at major holidays so you don’t have to explain why your son doesn’t want to spend time with you? You’ve expressed your disappointment in my choices over and over again. I turned down all those scholarships because I had no desire to turn out like you or dad. You didn’t accept it—that’s on you, not me.”
For the first time since I laid eyes on her, there seems to be a hairline crack in Dr. Eubanks’ bitchy shell. “We’ve gone over this several times, but I still don’t understand how you could turn down your choice of full-rides and instead run to Las Vegas, of all places, to pursue boxing … only to end up a bouncer.”
“I own a business, Mom, and I’m not even thirty. Life doesn’t suck.”
I’m learning so much as I stand here, watching the Eubanks/Forester family drama play out and I bet this has happened many times over. I can tell it takes her great effort, but she swallows all the nasty words I expected her to spew and she softens her voice a touch. “Maybe we could see you before Christmas. We can meet for dinner.” She glances to me and sighs. “You can even bring a date.”
Link rubs his face and shakes his head. “I’ve got a busy few weeks, but we’ll see.”
His mom looks to me and adds, “A campus-wide notice and warning went out yesterday. I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Ms. Carpino. I do hope you’re okay.”
Even if they were a bit stuffy, I’m taken off guard by the first nice words I’ve ever heard from her. Offering her a small smile, I give my head a little shake. “I’m okay. I was lucky.”
Taking a deep breath before exhaling it, she looks back to her son. “I’ll call soon to set up dinner. I do hope you will pick up the phone for a change.”
Link doesn’t offer an answer and watches his mother move efficiently out the door. After a few moments, I break the silence. “I cannot believe your mother is Dr. Eubanks. With the different last names, I had no idea.”
I look up at him and he shakes his head. “I can’t believe it most of the time, either. She doesn’t believe in marriage. Even though they’re considered common law after thirty-two years together, we don’t share the same last name. She works in the psychology department. I had no idea you’d have any contact with her being in early child development. I’m sorry.”
“It is a little odd that she teaches child psych.” I bite my lip and now feel guilty for bad-mouthing his mom, even though it doesn’t look like he has any patience for her either. “She doesn’t seem very … empathetic.”
He grins. “No. Empathetic is not how I would describe Dr. Nancy Eubanks.”
I raise a brow. “Good luck finding a date for that dinner.”
He smiles and turns me toward his bedroom where he threw my bags earlier. “Go get ready. We need to go. And don’t you dare think about wearing what you wore the night we met. You’re not showing that much skin ever again.”
I roll my eyes. “If you’re locking me up in your office, what does it matter?”
He levels his eyes on me, looking serious, a little scary, and a lot hot. “From now on, your skin is just for me. I’ll buy you some turtlenecks.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, knowing exactly what I’ll wear just to show him. He told me to pack for at least a few days, which meant I packed for two weeks. A girl never knows what she’ll be in the mood to wear. Now, I’m glad I did.