Page 74
Story: Lost in Love
With bright red cheeks, my mom reaches for the wine bottle, shaking her head as she pours another glass. “I can’t believe what I just saw.”
I look at the wine bottle. “It’s not like you saw anything. The good stuff doesn’t happen until the middle.”
Noah chuckles, but his tone is off. He wants to laugh, but when our eyes meet, he knows I’m super pissed at him. In case he doesn’t, I scowl just so he knows.
The motherfucker shrugs and winks at me. Stupid, adorable asshole.
Here’s something I should point out. My mom is an angry drunk. Always has been, and, like I said, I know once she starts drinking, what has already been said will just keep coming. At Mara’s funeral, she drank so much she fell down beside the grave. Not from grief or despair that her firstborn granddaughter had passed away, but because she was so drunk she couldn’t even stand up.
Mom stares at me, remembering my faults, probably wondering if I still have the same ones. She’s looking for an angle, a way to get me to fall victim to her ways. Only I won’t this time. “That’s irresponsible parenting to let your children find something like that,” she whispers to me.
My eyes dare to drift to Noah. His hand finds his hair, frustrated as he watches my mom with a deep sigh. “He didn’t see anything,” Noah says.
This is awful.I can’t believe he didn’t delete the video. Actually, I can, but still, did Oliver see anything? Is this the one instance in his life where he’s going to look back and remember it as the moment his life went wrong?
Our friends are trying their hardest not to be involved and keep up their conversations at the end of the table. Kate and Jason watch us, Noah’s staring at my mother in disbelief, and then the kids. They’re playing with their food and paying no mind to any of us. I doubt they even know what’s going on or will remember Noah’s reaction to the video.
“Mom, knock it off,” I plead, tears surfacing. “Let’s just move on from it.”
“I’m just saying that I think since Mara—”
She doesn’t finish her sentence before Noah loses it. “Do not mention her name again. You lost the chance to ever talk about her around me.”
Kate looks to Ashlynn, then Charlee and Gretchen sensing the conversation changing and takes the kids into the kitchen with her. “Mommy made you cookies in there,” she says quietly to them, drawing their attention from us to the sugar.
“She wasmygranddaughter. I can mention her if I want.”
Noah’s body tenses beside me. “This is my goddamn house, and no, you can’t mention her around me.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” my mom has the nerve to say.
“Get out.” Noah slams his fist down on the table, rattling the glasses. “Get the fuck out now before I throw you out.” She doesn’t move. “I mean it, get the fuck out!” He stands, pointing toward the door in an aggravated jab.
What a fucking nightmare.
My mom’s mission in life, I swear, is to interfere with mine.
Clearing her throat, she stands, acting offended. “Well, if that’s how you feel.”
Reaching for the wine in her glass, she finishes it and removes herself from the table. Without another word, she walks out the door and Oliver comes rushing in.
He glares at Noah. “Where is she going?”
“Who cares,” Noah mumbles and then Oliver loses his shit too.
“Why are you making her leave? Why’d you make us move to this stupid town? We’re never going to see her again!” And then he’s crying and runs up to his room. My mom is a great grandmother when she sees the kids, but it doesn’t make up for how she treats me and Noah. But is it fair that we made her leave and hurt them in the process?
Overwhelmed, tears surface, but I don’t let them slip. I’m trying so hard to act normal in fear my breakdown, the one where I can’t possibly get out of bed or function, is coming and I know at any minute it’s going to hit me in the face and I’ll be down for the count.
Noah plants a kiss on my head, and the tears fall. I can feel him looking down at me, his breath on my face. Soothing me, he brushes away my tears with his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he says, drawing my eyes to his.
I want to yell at him, but I don’t say anything. It’s my turn to shut down. He leaves and I stay in the room for another moment, trying to gather my thoughts. I watch as my mom’s car leaves the driveway, the shine of the bright red taillights reflecting off the window pane. Deep down, I know it’ll be months, if not longer, before I see her again. It’s what she does. She disappears from our lives and then returns thinking everything will be fine. But it’s not. Relationships don’t work that way. You have to be present, as I’m finding out.
Moments later, I walk into the kitchen to join everyone else. The kids are outside again playing in the backyard, and Noah is laughing.
I’d only just walked in, but I hear Kate tell Noah, “I should be able to watch it for reference on how to make my next marriage survive.” Noah stares blankly at her as she continues, “Plus, I’m curious.”
No answer from Noah, just him staring at her. I don’t think he knows how to reply to that.
I look at the wine bottle. “It’s not like you saw anything. The good stuff doesn’t happen until the middle.”
Noah chuckles, but his tone is off. He wants to laugh, but when our eyes meet, he knows I’m super pissed at him. In case he doesn’t, I scowl just so he knows.
The motherfucker shrugs and winks at me. Stupid, adorable asshole.
Here’s something I should point out. My mom is an angry drunk. Always has been, and, like I said, I know once she starts drinking, what has already been said will just keep coming. At Mara’s funeral, she drank so much she fell down beside the grave. Not from grief or despair that her firstborn granddaughter had passed away, but because she was so drunk she couldn’t even stand up.
Mom stares at me, remembering my faults, probably wondering if I still have the same ones. She’s looking for an angle, a way to get me to fall victim to her ways. Only I won’t this time. “That’s irresponsible parenting to let your children find something like that,” she whispers to me.
My eyes dare to drift to Noah. His hand finds his hair, frustrated as he watches my mom with a deep sigh. “He didn’t see anything,” Noah says.
This is awful.I can’t believe he didn’t delete the video. Actually, I can, but still, did Oliver see anything? Is this the one instance in his life where he’s going to look back and remember it as the moment his life went wrong?
Our friends are trying their hardest not to be involved and keep up their conversations at the end of the table. Kate and Jason watch us, Noah’s staring at my mother in disbelief, and then the kids. They’re playing with their food and paying no mind to any of us. I doubt they even know what’s going on or will remember Noah’s reaction to the video.
“Mom, knock it off,” I plead, tears surfacing. “Let’s just move on from it.”
“I’m just saying that I think since Mara—”
She doesn’t finish her sentence before Noah loses it. “Do not mention her name again. You lost the chance to ever talk about her around me.”
Kate looks to Ashlynn, then Charlee and Gretchen sensing the conversation changing and takes the kids into the kitchen with her. “Mommy made you cookies in there,” she says quietly to them, drawing their attention from us to the sugar.
“She wasmygranddaughter. I can mention her if I want.”
Noah’s body tenses beside me. “This is my goddamn house, and no, you can’t mention her around me.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” my mom has the nerve to say.
“Get out.” Noah slams his fist down on the table, rattling the glasses. “Get the fuck out now before I throw you out.” She doesn’t move. “I mean it, get the fuck out!” He stands, pointing toward the door in an aggravated jab.
What a fucking nightmare.
My mom’s mission in life, I swear, is to interfere with mine.
Clearing her throat, she stands, acting offended. “Well, if that’s how you feel.”
Reaching for the wine in her glass, she finishes it and removes herself from the table. Without another word, she walks out the door and Oliver comes rushing in.
He glares at Noah. “Where is she going?”
“Who cares,” Noah mumbles and then Oliver loses his shit too.
“Why are you making her leave? Why’d you make us move to this stupid town? We’re never going to see her again!” And then he’s crying and runs up to his room. My mom is a great grandmother when she sees the kids, but it doesn’t make up for how she treats me and Noah. But is it fair that we made her leave and hurt them in the process?
Overwhelmed, tears surface, but I don’t let them slip. I’m trying so hard to act normal in fear my breakdown, the one where I can’t possibly get out of bed or function, is coming and I know at any minute it’s going to hit me in the face and I’ll be down for the count.
Noah plants a kiss on my head, and the tears fall. I can feel him looking down at me, his breath on my face. Soothing me, he brushes away my tears with his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he says, drawing my eyes to his.
I want to yell at him, but I don’t say anything. It’s my turn to shut down. He leaves and I stay in the room for another moment, trying to gather my thoughts. I watch as my mom’s car leaves the driveway, the shine of the bright red taillights reflecting off the window pane. Deep down, I know it’ll be months, if not longer, before I see her again. It’s what she does. She disappears from our lives and then returns thinking everything will be fine. But it’s not. Relationships don’t work that way. You have to be present, as I’m finding out.
Moments later, I walk into the kitchen to join everyone else. The kids are outside again playing in the backyard, and Noah is laughing.
I’d only just walked in, but I hear Kate tell Noah, “I should be able to watch it for reference on how to make my next marriage survive.” Noah stares blankly at her as she continues, “Plus, I’m curious.”
No answer from Noah, just him staring at her. I don’t think he knows how to reply to that.
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