“Quick, if we hurry, she might not even see us, and I can avoid her even longer. Maybe I won’t even tell her. We often don’t see each other for days. She knows I’ve been visiting you, so she will assume I’m busy catching up on everything at the bakery.” I hurry through the doors and into the foyer, smashingthe elevator button. My grandparents follow me, and Grampy is still chuckling.
“Colbie,” Granny scolds, sounding disappointed. “She’s your mother, and she loves you in her own way. She will be devastated if she hears about this from someone else.”
I lean against the elevator wall as the doors shut and close my eyes. Ugh, I know she’s right, but I also feel like it’s as much about keeping up appearances as it is caring about me. “I’m worried she won’t be able to keep the information to herself,” I admit, opening my eyes again. Granny and Grampy look at me with sympathy.
“You aren’t wrong,” Grampy scoffs. “Malina would shout it from the rooftops. Imagine what it will do for her business and social standing to be the mother of the shifter queen.”
I shudder and wince. “God, I hope she doesn’t want to insert herself into the shifter world. I’m not sure how that would go over.”
“Aren’t humans banned from the shifter zone without permission?” Granny points out, and Grampy snorts.
“Malina will assume she has carte blanche permission just because her daughter is the queen.”
I groan again as the doors open on my floor and we head toward my apartment. “I’ll have to ask the former king how he dealt with it.”
Although it’s only been a couple of days, my apartment smells musty when I open the door. While Granny and Grampy store their things in the spare bedroom, I open up a couple of windows to let in some fresh air. It’s late afternoon, and I’m guessing the others already closed the bakery by now, so there’s no point in hurrying there. Instead, I put my things away and decide I need to do a load of laundry. I gather everything in a basket, including the book on shifters Nox gave me, andhead into the living room where my grandparents have made themselves a pot of tea.
“I’m just going to do some laundry.” I gesture to the basket in my hands. “And while I’m waiting, I’ll invite Mom to dinner so I can tell her, but you both need to be here to run interference,” I tell them, and they agree. Granny and Grampy are experts in managing their daughter, and both are strong willed enough to stand up to her ridiculous demands and behavior. For me, it’s easier to give in than deal with the guilt trip she gives me when I don’t agree with her or follow her instructions.
“You know, this shifter thing might not be bad. It will get you out from under your mother’s control. You’ll be able to find yourself without her interference,” Grampy says, trying to be positive about the whole thing.
“She’s not that bad,” I argue halfheartedly, but to be honest, she really is. She’s dictated to me all my life. She’s not abusive or neglectful or anything, but she’s not really good at allowing me to be me. She tried to mold me into what she wanted me to be—stylish, polished, popular, and career oriented—and I never quite lived up to her expectations. I always felt like I was letting her down.
“Yes, she is, so this could be good for both of you. She will finally realize that you’re amazing just the way you are.” Granny smiles brightly at me, and I feel so much love for them. They really are amazing, and I have no idea how my mother ended up the way she is, concerned with appearances and social standing. Neither of my grandparents are like that at all. I have a feeling it has something to do with my father, but no one really talks about him, so I have nothing to go on. It’s like when he left, they agreed they would never mention him again.
I take my basket down to the basement where our laundry room is and put on a load. I look between the book sitting in the bottom of the basket and the elevator and decide to text mymother an invitation to dinner instead of going up there. If I do and she isn’t with a client, then she will only grill me about my stay with her parents.
Instead, I take a seat on one of the comfy chairs that are positioned for people who want to wait for their laundry and open up the shifter book.
I get so lost in all the information that I don’t even notice when the washing machine finishes. It’s not until my phone beeps with an incoming message that I look up and realize two hours have gone by, and I have to move the wet stuff to the dryer. I quickly do that before checking my messages. It’s my mother demanding to know where I am since I invited her to dinner.
“Fuck!” I slam the book closed and tuck it under my arm before hurrying up to my apartment. When I get there, there’s an awkward silence between my mother and her parents.
“Darling,” she calls as I hurry inside. “Imagine my surprise when I come upstairs to have dinner with my daughter who has ignored me for days and find my parents waiting.” She sounds annoyed, but then, she often does. I’ve learned to ignore it. I will never meet her high expectations no matter what I do. She’s wearing a stylish pair of black tailored pants, a sleeveless, emerald green top, and heels. My mother does not know the meaning of casual.
“Hi, Mom.” I lean down and give her a kiss on the cheek before placing the book out of her line of sight. I don’t want her asking questions about it just yet. “Sorry, I was doing laundry and got caught up in a book.”
She giggles delicately. “Always have your nose in a book, don’t you? I would have thought you would have grown out of that by now. How are you going to find any real friends if your head is always in the clouds?”
“We ordered some takeaway, dear,” Granny says from the kitchen where she’s dishing some steaming hot dishes into someserving bowls. Heaven forbid we actually eat out of the takeaway containers.“We’re not savages, darling.”The memory of my mother’s voice echoes in my mind.
“Thanks, Granny.” I smile gratefully at her as I take a seat at the dinner table with the rest of them. It’s set for the four of us, and I feel Grampy give my leg a squeeze under the table as I reach for the glass of wine that is sitting at my setting. I have a feeling this dinner with Mom will require liquid fortification.
Granny brings the food over, and we’re silent as we help ourselves to the various options. My mom watches on with disdain as she sips her red wine. Takeaway is uncouth as far as she is concerned. You either need to cook an elaborate meal or take her to an exclusive restaurant to impress her. She probably won’t even touch the food, but I’m starving.
I don’t even get a chance to shovel any into my mouth before my mom starts in on me. “To what do we owe this surprise?” she asks passive aggressively. She waves a finger between her mom and dad, and I want to kick her under the table. Granny and Grampy have been nothing short of amazing to me. When she was too busy being a famous designer and it was inconvenient for her to have a child, they happily stepped up and took care of me.
I wrinkle my nose, annoyed that I’m not even going to be able to eat my food before I have to address the question, but before I can answer, Grampy jumps in.
“Do we need an excuse to visit our only daughter and favorite grandchild?” he asks, sounding deceptively casual.
I shovel in some of my rice and curry, enjoying the delicious flavors that tantalize my taste buds. I’m pretty sure Mom is trying to frown, but she uses so many anti-aging witch potions that her face doesn’t move, though her mouth is slightly turned down, so that’s a indication sign she’s annoyed.
“Not at all. It’s just that Colbie usually goes to your place, like she did earlier in the week.”
I sigh and put my fork down, knowing I can’t avoid this any longer. I only hope the damn woman will keep her mouth closed long enough for me to get my shit together. I need two more days, so instead, I distract her.
“How was the retirement party for the royals?” I ask, and her eyes light up with excitement.
