All things considered, she looksgood.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t for her to look as though she’s never touched a drink in her life. Like she hadn’t just suffered a minor stroke.
I made the right choice.
Though, after today, I have a feeling I’m going to regret even being born.
I don’t stand from my seat.
I nod, gesturing in front of me for them to take the empty spots, and they do before a single word is spoken between the three of us.
A brunette server with the name tag that reads ‘Luna’, approaches our table to take our orders—delaying the inevitable awkward and tension-filled conversation that’s coming—and Mark answers before us girls do.
“What will you have, sweet thing?” he asks my mom after placing his own order, and I’m glad I haven’t eaten today, or it would be thrown up onto the table.
I always knew Mark was a bit of a creep, but he always kept our conversations strictly professional. This is making me see him in a whole new light, and now I wish I never knew him at all.
I almost want to pretend he’s a complete stranger that I’m meeting for the very first time. It would make this ordeal so much less uncomfortable.
She strokes his arm, flicking the menu open to see her options.
“Do you have beer?” she asks, and Mark gives her a look. Firm, but not aggressive, like he’s just told her something with his eyes in their own language.
“Becky,” he warns with a slight shake of his head. “You know you shouldn’t.”
“Sorry, force of habit, I guess. I’m just nervous to see my girl again. After, you know…” Her voice trails off. I can feel her legs bouncing underneath the table.
Does she really only drink when she knows she has to see me?
“Maybe after breakfastyour girlhere can explain why she left in the dead of the night when she was supposed to help you get started in your physical therapy the next morning.” Mark places his intertwined fingers on the table in between us on the table, and I want to sink so far into my chair, hoping it takes me anywhere but here.
“Mark,” my mother says, shooting him a glare. “I told you. She does that sometimes. It isn’t a big deal.” She shrugs. “She isn’t the type to stick to her word.”
I bite my tongue.
Pick your battles, Jenna.It’s hard to do, but I know I’ll be better for it if I don’t let it get to me.
She’s explaining the type of personsheis, not me.
“Well, do you want to explain yourself tome, then, Jenna? Because while mywifemight be OK with you leaving the way you did, I don’t think I am.” He sips on his cup of black coffee.
“Respectfully, Mark, I don’t owe you an explanation.” I relax into the back of my seat. Though, that probably isn’t the right word.
Icowerinto it.
I’m terrified of this confrontation, and the knowing smirk on my mom’s face tells me I’m right where she wants me.
She knows I won’t tell her the reason she married him.
“Mark, it’s fine. Jenna and I are fine. Aren’t we, baby girl?” She reaches her hand out for me to take, and I just stare at it, still in disbelief that she’s just called me something my dad used to call me.
I take her hand quickly, squeezing it tight enough for her to wince before I let it go, and Luna clears her throat awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation Mark just attempted to have with me.
They order their drinks and a big breakfast meal between the two of them, and I ask for my third coffee refill. She alwaysjudges the things that I eat, and I don’t need to be shunned in a public place, in front of a man I barely know. Opting for no food at all seems like the obvious choice.
“Any food for you?” Luna asks. Two pairs of eyes stare at me from the side of the table, and I shake my head.
“No, thanks. I ate before I came,” I lie, and she gives me a soft smile before repeating the order for the table and walking away to take it to the kitchen.
