20
I’M ONLY HALF AWAKE when Mom shows up at my door. I’m surprised to see her. She’s bushy tailed and bright eyed. I, on the other hand, want to crawl back in bed and sleep. I have a massive headache, the product of too much wine the night before.
She’s holding two linen bags full of food. “I’ve come to make you breakfast,” she announces. “Just like old times.”
I’m not very hungry but I still shoot her a tight smile, feigning excitement. “Great, Mom. Come in.”
It breaks my heart… she’s so happy. She has no clue what’s coming her way. I want to tell her about Nicole and Mark, but I know she’d refuse to believe me. I know my pig-headed Mom — she’ll have to see it with her own eyes. But we’re running out of time.
“Ok, I’ll go get dressed,” I tell her. “And I’ll get Oscar and Corrie up too.” I dash to my bedroom and scour for my phone. When I finally find it, I quickly write a message to Matt.
Last night was a fail. Nicole did manage to hook him, but no one was there to witness it. What do we do now?
As I slip on my clothes for the day; black leggings, a long pink tunic and scarf, and purple socks, I keep checking my phone for his response. About a minute later, my phone dings.
Nicole will try to get him out today.
I wonder about Nicole’s motives. What’s her deal? Is she in love with Matt? Does she just enjoy fucking with old foreign men? Doesn’t she have a job?
Doesn’t Nicole have anything better to do with her time?
—
Lol! Nicole is a journalist for a fashion blog, and works from home. She loves men, and she also loves married men.
—
She sounds like quite the prize. Are you two an item?
—
Oh, no. We’ve been together before, but not anymore.
I’m not sure I believe him. I know he’s interested in me, and of course, if he is, there’s no way he’d tell me he’s sleeping with some French floozie.
Okay, keep me up to date. I need to plan accordingly with my mom.
—
Sure thing.
Mom is busy in the small kitchen, poaching some eggs for her famous eggs Benedict. She’s made herself quite at home. I reach into the refrigerator for some orange juice. “Did you have a good time at Antoine’s, last night?”
She smiles coyly. “I did. He’s such a nice man.”
“He is,” I agree. “And pretty easy on the eyes too.”
She blushes. “Yes, he is quite the looker. I bet he has dozens of women waiting in line.”
I laugh. “I didn’t see any last night.”
“Do you mind setting the table?” she asks. “I have my hands full.”
“Sure,” I say. “So that Nicole was pretty nice, wasn’t she?”
“Yes,” she says absentmindedly. “And beautiful too. Whose friend was she again?”
I pull the whimsical blue plates from the cabinet. “Uh… mine.”
