“He’s ghosting me!” Sylvia said, frantic.
I dragged a hand through my hair, debating what I was supposed to say, then glanced over at Bree as she stirred. Her hair was a mess, like birds were living in it, and her naked face was full of frowns. She’d spent twenty minutes in the bathroom before bed, the previous evening, washing and moisturizing.Sometimes she brought her stuff to my house, but when she forgot, she just splashed her face with water, which didn’t remove all the eye makeup. I’d told her she could keep stuff in my bathroom, but she’d refrained as of yet. I didn’t dwell on why that bothered me so much, because then I would have to admit it meant she wasn’t fully committed. That was the opposite of what I wanted.
“What are you doing?” Bree complained, shifting under the covers. She kept the blanket over her chest and glared at Sylvia. “What did we talk about?”
Bree’s tone would have made me shrink. Sylvia either didn’t have self-preservation skills or didn’t care.
“He’s ghosting me,” she repeated. “He’s not returning my calls.”
Bree didn’t look bothered. Well, other than by the fact that her mother had walked into her bedroom without knocking. I, on the other hand, felt the need to fix whatever this was.
“Who isn’t returning your calls?”
“Your father.” Sylvia’s hands landed on her hips as she regarded me. It was as if she was seeing me for the first time. “Has he said something to you?”
Since I was still waking up, it took a few moments for those words to sink in. “Um…”
“You don’t have to answer that.” Bree was surlier than usual. I might have laughed if her mother hadn’t been pacing the space at the end of the bed. “Mother, we’ve talked about this.” Her tone was stern. “You’re far too invested in the idea of a relationship with Rufus.”
If looks could kill, Bree would be dead. Sylvia’s glare was like a sword through the heart. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together. Well, up until a few days ago. He likes me.”
This conversation made me distinctly uncomfortable. I could have gotten up and headed to the bathroom—that might haveeven been the smart thing to do—but I didn’t. Leaving Bree held no appeal for me, and I was still hopeful we could do our morning routine and talk before getting out of bed. It didn’t matter what we talked about—anything and everything was on the table. I just wasn’t ready to leave our cocoon. Unfortunately, Sylvia was like a spider who was about to eat that cocoon.
“I’m not getting involved in this.” There was no give to Bree’s tone. “I’ve told you a million times that I don’t want to hear about you and your guys.”
“This time is different.” Sylvia made a sniffing sound. “We have a lot of the same interests.”
Bree made a derisive sound.
“We do,” Sylvia insisted. “I don’t need your attitude. I’m your mother. You’re supposed to be on my side.” The look she shot me suggested she believed I was the enemy. From her perspective, that was probably true.
“Maybe I should…” I glanced at Bree, unsure.
“No.” She shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere. As for you, Mom, I get tired of saying the same things to you over and over again. I don’t want to hear about your men.”
“But Rufus is ghosting me! He hasn’t returned my calls for three days.”
That was hardly surprising. My father might have found Sylvia entertaining for a solid five minutes or so, but she wasn’t the type of woman he was going to hitch his wagon to for more than a few meals. She wasn’t young enough. She couldn’t be considered a trophy. Sure, she might have been able to carry on a conversation with him—although I wasn’t certain that was actually true—but she didn’t fit the aesthetic.
I was not on the “that’s okay” express regarding my father’s dating habits, for the record. He was not a good guy when it came to the opposite sex. He’d lost the love of his life and refused to even entertain the idea of building a relationship onsubstance. But part of me understood why he did what he did. Sylvia wasn’t going to understand it, though.
“If he hasn’t called you in three days, where have you been at night?” Bree asked.
I cast her a sidelong look, remembering what she’d told me the night before. She was under the impression her mother and my father had been together. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.
“Where do you think I’ve been?” Sylvia snapped. “I’ve been following him. He can’t just ghost me. That’s not okay.”
“You’ve been following my father?” I blurted.
The look Sylvia shot me warned that if I judged her, there would be repercussions.
“Of course you’ve been following him,” I amended. “That’s totally normal.” I shot Bree a nervous look.
For her part, she didn’t look worried, just annoyed. She waved off my concern and levered herself up on her elbows. “I told you this wasn’t going to work,” she said to her mother.
I cringed at her “I told you so” attitude. That wasn’t going to work on her mother, was it?
“He’s been married three times,” Bree continued. “You’re not going to be wife number four. You showed me the photos of his two most recent wives, and you could be their mother.”
