Not racist—phew, but still, Gabby fought the urge to hip-check her mom off the path.
“Phil came all this way—” Her mother gave her a critical look.
Gabby’s blood pressure was skyrocketing.
“Do you want a Xanax? You’re sweating a lot, honey.”
Gabby scoffed and in a superior voice said, “I’m not going to pop a Xanax on the way to meditation. How bad off do you think I am?” She was pretending now. A Xanax would probably be a good idea.
With a look of distaste, like when Gabby wore an outfit she didn’t like, Elena said, “Gabriella, I’m not sure if this marriage is the right choice for you, not if you’re this stressed already.” Managing to look sad and judgmental at the same time, Elena said, “And if you weren’t even comfortable introducing George to your mother, there must be something wrong.”
Dear god.
Elena narrowed her eyes and scanned her daughter’s expression. “You’re hiding something.”
In a quiet voice, only because she was trying to shove her rage in a box before it burst out and made a mess, Gabby said, “I changed my mind.”
“About the marriage?” her mom said, suddenly all ears.
“No,” Gabby said. “About the Xanax.”
Her mom unzipped her fanny pack and made a production out of dispensing a pill from a typical prescription bottle. This was something she’d expect from someone Granny’s age, not a woman a few years older than JLo.
Meditation was in the G-hut again. Gabby tripped on one of the carefully placed rocks. The path was too narrow for her and her mother. The entire resort wasn’t big enough for the two of them.
Elena oohed and ahhed all the way out there. “Is George paying for all of this?”
“Geez. It’s not why I’m with him, Mom.”
“What does he do for a living again?”
“He invented the fidget spinner,” Gabby said flatly, using the same dumb line she’d used with Lana and Naomi. What did her mom care anyway?
Her mom scrunched up her face in confusion over that one. “Those obnoxious toys?”
Gabby kept her eyes ahead. This Xanax had too much anger to push through to really make a difference today.
“Is inventing even a job?”
“Yup.”
“I just don’t understand young people these days.”
“That’s obvious.”
“Gabby, you’re not being very welcoming. “
Gabby stopped and looked at her dead in the eye. “I didn’t invite you.”
“Hmmph.” Elena loudly swallowed her judgment.
In the G-hut, Jasmine was setting the mood with incense. A beautiful woman with silky black hair that flowed over her shoulders and touched the floor was creating a sound bath. Until Gabby entered the room, it had probably been very relaxing.
Her mom leaned back and at an ear-splitting volume, said, “Ohmygawd. Isn’t this a treat?”
Gabby braced herself. She looked at Jasmine and then back to her mom. She had two choices: Pretend like nothing was going on or bite the bullet. Pretending required patience, so she walked up to Jasmine and said hello.
“Gia,” Jasmine trilled, “we missed you at yoga this morning. I hope it was for honeymoon reasons.”
