There was already a message waiting for us in the group chat.
There was a lot of laughter throughout the suites and all I could do was shake my head. I put my phone back into my handbag and leaned back to let Ami settle down onto my chest. I knew she was going to start drifting off to sleep soon and this was the quickest way to get her to fall asleep.
“And that is how a queen clears a bitch without having to lift a finger.”
The holiday spirit had hit me full force right after Halloween. I used to look at this time of year with dread. The thought of being forced to spend more time with my family never brought me joy. Even the elaborate gifts they would hand out to try to outdo one another ruined the atmosphere. Which is why I was more than happy to work for the extra hourly kicker I would get on someone’s short-term assignment. It was much better than enduring any amount of time with the people I shared genetic markers with. But this year was so different.
Not only was it Ami’s first Christmas, but it was also Aldrich’s first Christmas in this house. His first as a dad and our first as a couple. I knew I’d gone overboard with the decorating but I didn’t feel bad about it at all.
When I’d asked him about what I could do to decorate the house, he told me not to stop decorating until my inner child smiled. And that…that broke me down and healed me all at once. Aldrich was a man who was easily pigeonholed into being something he wasn’t all because of his looks and his profession. But he was so much more. I was thankful that I hadn’t pegged him as another rich asshole who was going to ignore his own kid. I would’ve missed out on an unimaginable amount of joy if I had.
Since he gave me the okay to decorate I did just that. Decor in my house growing up always had to be tasteful and worthy of a magazine. Only white lights, classic decorations like ribbons and bows and of course nothing ethnic.
So of course, I did the opposite of that.
The lights for the front of the house could switch from multi-colored to mono-colored. I had areas of the house along the drive that were lined with the lit animatronic-styletastefuldecorations. Closer to the house and in the backyard, I’d ordered a Black Santa North Pole toyshop blow-up and put it by the pool so we could walk out of the den on our hallway and go straight out to see it. The trees inside were each decorated with a different theme. The living room tree was more formal and fit the house, which is where Aldrich had insisted we have family photos taken. I’d cried at the suggestion and then cried when I got the proofs back. We’d had Ami’s portraits taken throughout the year so the same photographer took the family shots for us.
The tree in the kitchen was gingerbread/Mrs. Claus’ bakery themed. But our favorite was the Grinch tree on our wing of the house. Ami loved to scoot over and marvel at it and I’d laid her on her back and let her look up at the lights beneath the tree to see how magical the tree looked from below. It was like glimpsing a fairyland of another world.
All that goodwill toward men was probably why I reached out to my mother. Aldrich and Ami had gone to pick up his family from the airport and I was finishing up last-minute touches with their rooms and the last of Aldrich’s presents that I hadn’t wrapped. We’d sat out Ami’s gifts this year but I knew with her being mobile next year that couldn’t happen again. It was the Tuesday before the Thursday game and the last time we would see Aldrich. When he left for work tomorrow he’d head directly to the team hotel after practice.
I was nervous but there was a part of me that told me it was right to reach out to her. Not for anything more than letting her know her child was still alive. I had zero expectations and knew this might go poorly but I needed to do it for my own peace of mind.
“Hello?” Immediately I regretted the call. I could hear and feel the disdain she felt for me in that one word.
“Hi, Mother. I was calling to wish you a joyous holiday before the week got too busy.”
She scoffed as though there was nothing I should be doing that should prevent me from paying my respects to her.
“Busy? That’s aquaintway of putting it.”
She said quaint like I was selling ass in a red-light district. “Okay, well, I hope you have a Merry Christmas.” I’d started to refold the Christmas towels that were hanging on the oven handle but I stopped because I was doing it again. Attempting to perfect everything around me so that I could have her approval. There was nothing to perfect, and her approval was unnecessary in my home. A home she would never set foot in.
“I’m certain it will be much better than whatever pedestrian endeavors you have going on. Watching your boss do his job while you raise his child as the help.” Her voice dripped with joy at the idea of her words hurting my feelings and I was so glad I was immune to her words.
Instead of getting upset I simply smiled at the realization of how miserable she had to be became clear. “It really bothers you that I’m happy doesn’t it? It pisses you off that I find fulfillment in things that you deem beneath us.”
“That man has you running around taking care of his bastard baby—”
Her voice had risen the more she spoke, and I matched her energy without hesitation. “You need to stop right there, Mother. Never speak on my daughter again. You might have been apiss-poor mother who would leave me in the care of whatever stranger was willing to tolerate your attitude for a paycheck, but I don’t play about mine. Say what you want about me, I could give a fuck less. But my daughter? An innocent baby? I won’t tolerate anyone speaking ill on her.”
“Look at you claiming her. Probably gonna give her part of your money.”
I leaned against the countertop and could only shake my head because this lady truly hadn’t learned. “And that’s all that matters to you isn’t it? Money. Always money.”
“She’s not even your blood—”
I laughed at her audacity, her inability to see how hypocritical she was being astounded me.
“When has blood ever done anything for me? When has it meant anything to you? I’m your blood and you treat me like shit. It would be one thing if I found out I was the affair baby you were forced to raise. Or switched at birth but I saw the DNA test that you took when I was thirteen to ensure I was yours. Real messed up for you to question your maternity simply because I was different from you.”
“I had to be sure.” She wasn’t even defensive. She felt like it was her every right to do what she did. But in my mother’s word she was infallible so I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Of course you did. Because you’re that type of small-minded person. And even though you know I’m yours you still can’t stand me. And it baffles you as to why I would be happy to raise a child that isn’t mine because you couldn’t tolerate raising one that was yours.”
“He is just using you. For your money, your youth, for your heart. They all do.”
“If you had been any type of mother before you and Dad broke up, I might have sympathy for you. But you weren’t. I don’t have any memories of you being maternal. No warmfeelings of my childhood that center you. I had a long stream of caretakers that would cycle in and out. Fire the ones I got too attached to so that they wouldn’t hold more influence over me than you did. You wouldn’t give me any affection and you refused to let anyone else do it.” I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water to cool myself down. After I took a drink. I began to pull out the snacks I’d prepared for the Dineros when they got home. I was excited because Ms. Sonya was going to help me make her traditional Christmas dinner and I couldn’t wait to try it.
