“Hello, darling,” my mom purrs, interrupting the game of truth or dare—hold the dare—we were playing. She holds my shoulders before going in for a two-cheek kiss and then moving onto more important matters like greeting Xander, also known as the very first male specimen I’ve ever introduced to her. She grabs him by the biceps and looks him up and down. “Aren’t you gorgeous,” she says, by way of greeting.
“That’s because you can see your reflection in my sunglasses,” Xander says, sending the compliment right back to her, and she eats it up. She’s wearing a gold sequin wrap dress, hair big and curly, and makeup natural. She does look gorgeous.
Clearly she’s not going to introduce herself. “Mom, this is Xander,” I say. “Xander, this is my mom, Hillary.”
Xander gives her the megawatt smile that makes grown-ass women melt.
I look around for her date, who’s nowhere to be seen. Getting drinks, I presume. “Where’s your date?” I ask, interrupting this introduction.
“He’s not my date,” she says.
“If not your date, why date-shaped?” I say. Mom stares at me like I’m speaking gibberish. I try again, using words she’ll most definitely understand. “Unless you brought a fuck buddy to a wedding?”
“Ashleigh, watch your tone,” Mom says, warning me.
More wedding guests I don’t know have congregated around us. Like without the bride and groom, the next of kin is where the party’s at.
“Beautiful ceremony,” Mom says to no one in particular. I stare at her. Is she high right now? “Love is such a gift.”
And with that comment, a laugh slips out of me. I can’t control it. And so I laugh again. Because if I don’t, I’m going to lose it.
“What’s so funny?” Mom says, tilting her head at me.
“What a joke,” I say, disdain dripping through every vowel and consonant.
“What do you mean?” There’s an edge to her voice. Another warning. But the therapist in her can’t help herself.
“Love is a scam,” I say, quoting her back to herself. I believe it was from one particular night after they tried to “make it work” only for Mom to find a gold necklace that Dad bought. And it wasn’t for her. Funny story, that quote ended up on the giant-ass billboard along the 101 when the Netflix series premiered.
“Oh honey, what do you know about love?” she says, shaking her head. Then she turns to Xander and says, “Can you believe Ashleigh has never brought a romantic partner home to meet her mother? You’d think she was incapable of love.”
I don’t hear the laugh that escapes her mouth. She’s just a pantomime as the roar in my ears drowns her out. My breathing shallows. Before I am completely flooded by anger, I feel hands snaking down my forearm and weaving around my fingers. I look up and see Xander, looking down at me. Grounding me.
He clenches his jaw before turning to face my mother. “Hillary, I forgot to congratulate you on the success of your book,Dating, Mating, and Masturbating,” he says. I know that tone.
“Thank you,” she says, clutching her heart, completely forgetting that she just shattered her only daughter’s self-esteem with her previous remark.
“I thought it was an interesting take on love, sex, and intimacy,” he goes on. I snap my head to him. He actuallyreadthe book?
“You read the book,” she says, impressed.
“I did,” he says, calm like a sniper. And I can clock the moment in her eyes when she realizes this is not a compliment anymore. A complaint, more like. “Pity it wasn’t thoroughly researched.”
I watch as Mom’s eyes dart around like Xander is airing her dirty laundry. Dirty laundry she put in an international bestsellingbook. And a reality series. And a social media account followed by millions. And a page-a-day desk calendar …
“Anecdotal evidence is subjective, unverified, and statistically insignificant. I mean, it looks good on the shelf in Barnes & Noble, but it’s bullshit,” he says, lawyer cold.
“Excuse me?” Mom’s brows shoot up, like she misheard. Nah, more like she’s giving him one chance to take it back.
“Your book claims love and lust are mutually exclusive, but neuroscience proves they coexist—you just have to set the right conditions,” he says, cold as ice. “Your book is an autobiography at best. And a marketing scam at worst.”
Mom simply stares at Xander. And I stare at Xander.
She’s stumped. I’m in awe.
Then he delivers the final blow. “Why do you think Ash has never brought a romantic partner to meet her mother?” It’s exactly like how I imagine he’d ask the jury to come to the most logical conclusion.If the glove doesn’t fit, you must acquit.
That must be the final straw because Mom finally finds her voice. “Ah, I see … you’re in the lust phase.” There’s a dismissive laugh as she delivers this. Her eyes skate down the length of my arm, where I’m holding onto Xander. And disgust creeps over her face. “Very common, but let’s talk about what happens after the dopamine wears off.”
