Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“You’re being weird, Mom.”
“I have to tell you something,” she says in a tight voice. “I’d prefer if you’d leave the drama out of it. Not in the mood today.”
She’s never in the mood. If you ask me, my mother has the emotional capacity of a gnat. It doesn’t exist. Deep down, I know she loves me, but she isn’t keen on showing it. That’s the part that hurts.
“I’ll keep my dramatics to myself,” I grit out. “Tell me.”
Her head turns my way, and she gives me one of her weird smiles. It’s not one she typically uses on me. She saves it for patients, teachers, old people. Polite and borderline condescending.
“I got rid of the apartment.”
Several seconds pass before I can make sense of her statement. “What do you mean?”
“Moved us out,” she says with a huff of impatience. “We don’t live there anymore.”
Panic swells up inside of me. “What about all my stuff? My books? My car?”
“I nicely asked you to avoid the dramatics,” she reminds me. “Yet, here we are.”
“Mom,” I grind out. “You just randomly upped and moved us. How did you expect me to respond? Why? What happened? Are we falling behind on rent or something?”
“Don’t be silly.” She waves me off with her hand. “I make plenty of money and you know it.”
My eyes drift to her other hand holding onto the steering wheel. A fat diamond sits on a thick gold band wrapped around her ring finger. Nausea washes over me and my mouth waters with the need to puke.
“Y-You got married?” I croak out, jabbing an accusing finger at her hand.
“I did. And you will respect my decision.”
I shake my head, confused as to what happened in the two weeks I was gone. “I don’t understand. Were you even seeing anyone? This feels abrupt. Are you okay, Mom? Do you need to get on your meds again?”
I know bringing up her postpartum depression is a touchy subject, but I refuse to let it go unaddressed. There were a few days after Penny was born, I thought my mother might end her life, or ours. She was that shattered and barely hanging on by a thread. Medication and therapy pulled her out of that deep, dark hole.
“I’m feeling perfectly well,” she says, irritation in her tone. “You’ll like Owen. He’s a good man. His children are nice too.”
Children?
It all slams into me at once as I come to terms with what she’s saying. Not only is she married, but her new husband has kids. I’ve been uprooted from my home, and we now live with these strangers. Could she not have thrown a text my way?
I sit frozen in place, still processing everything that’s happening. Penny chatters happily in the backseat, clearly not as traumatized as I am.
Is this new family nice to her?
Mom drives through town and then slows when we come to one of the nicer neighborhoods in our area. My heart hammers harder and faster in my chest as we wind through the roads within the subdivision. Any of these houses could be our new home and I wouldn’t know because this is the first time I’ve heard anything about this marriage.
She eventually slows when she reaches a stately, modern home with mature trees that offer a shield from the snow, where my car is parked at the curb. All the lights appear to be on based on the lit up windows. I’m dreading going inside.
Maybe this is all a dream.
I’m probably still asleep on the plane, about to land.
Mom hits a preprogrammed button in her vehicle, and I watch in shock as the garage door opens. She pulls inside the garage beside a Denali. It must be her…husband’s.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Listen,” Mom says once the car is shut off. “There are things you don’t understand. I want you to trust me. I’m doing this because I need to. Can you please respect my decision so we can move on in peace?”
I give her a clipped nod before exiting the vehicle. I’m disgusted and my mind reels with unanswered questions, but I’m not going to throw a fit like some unruly child. She’s been disappointing me my entire life. It shouldn’t surprise me now.
Since I miss Penny, I quickly unbuckle her and pull her out. She rests her head on my shoulder, still speaking in her cute little voice, though it’s hard to understand what she’s saying. I follow my mother through the garage and into the house.
The first thing I notice is the smell.
And it’s not a bad one.
Almost immediately, my stomach growls as I inhale the savory scent of what smells like cooking meat.
“We’re home,” Mom calls out. “Owen? Addison? Cason?”
A guy comes sauntering in with a pretty blonde at his side. They’re both around my age or maybe younger. It’s hard to tell for sure. But, the guy is definitely too young to be married to my mother and have a house like this.