Once I’m comfortable in the back seat of the car, I take my phone back out, scroll through my contact list, and stare at my mom’s name. I haven’t let her know that I’d be coming home today, because honestly, I don’t have the energy for it.
I’m here for seven days. Putting one of those aside for her wouldn’t be the worst thing, but I just don’t have the mental capacity to go backward. I’ve spent the last month and a half surrounded by people who love and appreciate me.
People who choose to want me.
People who choose to be seen with me.
I just know, being back in her presence, will unravel all of that, and I’ll go back to being the girl who let the words of one person break her apart.
“Just here is fine,” I tell my driver, who pulls up in front of the Lotus. It’s an old bar, and it’s been here for as long as I’ve lived in the city, yet somehow, I’ve never stepped foot inside.
I pass it every single day on my journey to and from work, but I couldn’t tell you what color the walls are painted.
On my way home after drinks with Tahnee and Margot nearly two months ago, I was almost directly in front of this bar when I heardhimcall out my name. Cassandra confirmed what I already knew, and now I can’t help but wonder if he lives nearby.
No way he does,I tell myself.You stayed in hishotel. Not his apartment.
“Are you sure, Miss? It’s a little while to walk,” my driver tells me. I nod as the car comes to a stop and I open my door to get out. Slamming it shut, I hang my bag over my shoulder, and make the walk toward the salon, grateful that I’ve chosen to wear bike shorts beneath my dress to stop my thighs from rubbing together in this Californian heat.
If anyone ever tells you that thick thighs save lives, they’re lying.
My best friend loves to tell me that curses aren’t real, but thick thighs are a damn curse, and I’ll believe that until my dying breath.
“Hello,” I call out as I push the door open to the place I built from the ground up. Margot pops her head out from the back room.
“You’re here!” She rushes toward me, placing her bowl of cereal on the desk before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.” Letting me go, she picks up her bowl, and heads toward the couch to make herself comfortable.
I knew it would be quiet at this time, but I triple checked the calendar that this hour was blocked off for lunch before just showing up.
“I haven’t been home yet. I wanted to come see you first.” I smile, throwing my bag under the front desk, and walking toward the couch to sit beside her.
We talked for her whole lunch break, and I filled her in on as much as I could without too many juicy details.
No one needs to know the ins and outs ofthatpart of my life.
“So much for three months in a small town bringing you an abundance of mystery men and great sex.” She chuckles. “Instead, the beach-free, little town just bought you thesamemystery man, over and over and over again.” She tucks her light brown hair behind her ear, and shoves the last scoop of cereal-flavored milk into her mouth before placing the bowl on the ground beside her feet.
Going by the alarm that just went off, she has a client in ten minutes, so I decide now is the time to bite the bullet and find out what she knows aboutwhymy mom came looking for a job.
“Honestly, Jen, I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just know she comes in on time every single day, has never once called in sick, and she does everything I ask of her. She’s even become friendly with one of our regulars,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Ithink they’re actually dating now, but I guess I’ll have to keep an eye out.”
“The only part out of everything you said that Idon’tfind hard to believe, is her being friendly with one of our regulars.” I shake my head and sink back into the couch. “Let me guess. Mark, the silver fox who has appointments booked every three weeks for the next two years and couldn't take his eyes off Margot's tits?” He’s just my mom’s type. Hot for his age, rich, and apparently a sleaze.
“Just…maybe take it easy on her, alright? She’s working herself to the bone, probably harder than she’s ever worked in her life, and it’s exhausting her. I also haven’t smelt any alcohol on her breath. Not even once.” She squeezes my arm, and I give her a slight nod.
Right. Go easy on Becky Rogers.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it looks as though my mom is trying to turn her life around. I just wish she’d decided to do it for me when I was younger and needed a mom.
Not for a man.
“Dinner tonight?” I ask as I rise from the couch, walking over to collect my bag as her next client walks through the door.
“Definitely.” Margot nods. “I’ll book a place and text you the details.”
“Great, see you later.”
***
