Page 19 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MAEREN

My mind was reeling once Xander left. I didn't want the night to end, but deep in my rational brain, I knew I shouldn't let him in, literally and metaphorically speaking. He seems like bad news, probably due to the broody persona he carries, and yet, he is magnetizing. I’m finding myself completely unable to stop the draw to him.

Letting my better senses win, I settled on a text to say thank you for dinner once again.

We had a short conversation afterwards which I ended by saying I was going to bed.

He texted me one last time to tell me, “Goodnight, Wildflower,” and I envisioned him whispering it right into my ear as if he were laying next to me.

My tumultuous feelings are giving me whiplash and I can hear my mother’s words telling me this won’t work out, that I’m not good enough. I let them sink into my thoughts until they feel like reality and know I’m probably setting myself up for heartbreak.

As I’m leaving work the following day, there’s a flower on my car.

I smile before tucking it away in my bag.

The rest of the week passes uneventfully and I still haven’t heard from Xander again.

I have little time to dwell on why that is though—it’s time for dinner with mommy dearest. I stop for cheap wine on my way over because if one thing is going to help me through the next couple of hours—it’s alcohol.

It also helps that my mother has some alcohol dependency, and showing up with a fresh bottle will get me on her good side for at least five minutes.

This probably makes me somewhat of an enabler, but it’s easier this way and gives me a fifty-fifty chance of making it through this meal semi unscathed.

When I pull up to her quaint suburban home, I notice a fairly nice pickup truck sitting in the driveway next to her car.

Great, she must have company and neglected to mention it.

Likely on purpose so I couldn’t find an excuse to back out of this stupid dinner altogether.

I hate dinners alone with her but dinners with guests are even worse, if you can imagine it.

Having a witness to our inevitable fighting is one of the most mortifying experiences life can possibly curse me with.

Grabbing the two bottles off the passenger seat, I slam my car door and stuff down the rest of my annoyance as I walk up the driveway to the yellow front door and knock.

The bright paint color adorning the door is far happier than the woman who lives behind it.

I hear laughing inside and a minute later the door opens, my mother’s smile falling off her face as if it were never there at all.

I stand there awkwardly as she critically scans me from head to toe with cold and assessing eyes.

“Maeren, come in,” she says callously as she steps aside for me to enter. The smell of lasagna fills my nose as I walk past her and hear shuffling in the kitchen.

“Who else is here?” I question, wanting to get the introductions over with.

“Oh! Haha, silly me, I forgot to mention that Simon would be here! Honey, come on out and meet my daughter, Maeren.”

“Simon? Mom, who's Simon ?” Oops , I try not to call her mom. It feels too endearing, mother makes me feel more distanced from her, the formal tone more fitting for our relationship, or lack thereof.

“I am. Nice to meet you, Maeren.” A man a little younger than my mom appears in the entryway and presents his hand for me to shake. Confused, I take it and look between him and my mother.

“Hi…. Nice to meet you, too. Who are you?” I try not to sound too critical of him.

“Oh, Maeren, Simon and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks, that’s why I wanted to finally have this dinner and needed you to get over your silly little outburst,” she explains as condescendingly as she can.

“Oh… OH! Mother, you didn’t mention you were seeing anyone.

” Surprise coats my words as I note his tan skin, short cropped hair, clean shaven face, and a weird glint that flashes across his dark eyes.

Dressed in black jeans and a pullover, he’s decent looking for a middle aged man, but doesn’t seem like my mom’s type.

She usually prefers men who are more straight laced and wear business suits to bed.

He is exceptionally casual for her and the regal appearance she likes to maintain.

“Why would I have? We met soon after you decided to be mad at me over our last dinner, and I didn’t want to impose on your boundaries .” Her voice is full of ire. This is going to be a long, long meal.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Simon. Let’s go sit and you guys can tell me all about how you met.

” Trying to cool the tension, I take a seat in the dining room, acting like I care to know the details of whatever this is.

The men my mother brings home don’t usually stick around very long, she just wants a couple nights to feel young again.

Not that she could manage to keep anyone around longer than that with her award winning personality.

As dinner passes, we eat and drink while my mother explains that she met Simon at the grocery store.

She was loading up her bags in the parking lot when she dropped her keys.

Simon happened to be walking by and grabbed them for her, how chivalrous.

Eyeroll . According to both of them, it was attraction at first sight.

My mom doesn’t formally date—hasn’t once since my dad left—so the fact that he’s been around for a while must count for something.

She’s like me in that department: have your fun and get out.

The topic soon switches to employment and I explain that I’m a local realtor. Simon’s eyes light up at that. “Oh, wow, realty, huh? I bet you make a decent living then.”

My mother embellishes her following scoff with an eye roll. “Yeah, right, she lives in a tiny one-bedroom apartment on the other side of town.”

Ignoring her venomous words, I answer, “I do okay for myself. I’ve been supporting myself since the day I turned eighteen.

While I might not have a lavish home, it’s more than enough for myself.

” I’m unwilling to cower under her right now, especially with someone I just met sitting across from me.

I’m also not going to be ashamed of how hard I’ve worked for the life I have.

I’m proud of it regardless of what she thinks.

“Oh yes, Maeren, you’re just so much more successful than I could ever be.”

“Mother, I didn’t say that. You have a nice career yourself and have a perfect home. It’s really not a competition and you don’t need to make it into one. We were having a perfectly nice meal.” As soon as the words finish leaving my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake.

“How dare you speak to me that way? We have a guest here, Maeren, or have you forgotten your etiquette?” she seethes.

“I simply pointed out that you have a good life and there was no need to compare. You must have selective hearing because I never once insulted you. It seems the only one with bad etiquette here is you, Mother.” Too late to turn back now, why not bury myself deeper?

“You ungrateful, self-centered, spoiled brat of a child.” Her words are low but dangerous.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave. It was lovely meeting you, Simon.” I stand up to go, willing the tears building in my eyes to stay put as Simon jumps up from his seat.

“Let me walk you out.” He follows me to the front door and apologizes for my mother. “I’m so sorry for her outburst, I was hoping this would be a nice family dinner and I could get to know Leanne’s only child.”

“Don’t worry about it. We have a rather complicated relationship, and I’m used to her extreme behaviors. I only hope she treats you better than she ever has me,” I explain solemnly.

“I’ll talk to her tonight, see if she will come around.

I’d love to have you back for dinner soon and get to know you more.

Take care now.” I wave goodbye and silence my cellphone when I reach my car, knowing that soon enough it will be blowing up.

Not even a man present can keep my mother somewhat in check.

You’d think she’d try to impress the person she’s sleeping and apparently playing house with, but maybe she thinks belittling me is impressive.

Wouldn’t surprise me. I don’t know how she isn’t thoroughly embarrassed with herself, but narcissists never are.

I stood my ground though, and I’m really proud of myself for that.

Being rejected by family never gets easier, but I didn’t cower under her.

So, ultimately, dinner went as well as it could have.

Usually, I’m in tears before I leave, but not this time.

What I said was true, too. I do okay for myself.

The reminder of this pushes my insecurities to the back of my mind, replacing it with resolve.

I’m on my own, I don’t need her, and I can let her go.

The next family dinner that comes around will be me ending things with her once and for all.

If she can’t have a normal relationship with me then she isn’t having whatever semblance of one this is either.

I deserve better; I am better. I only hope Simon sees right through her and leaves too.

She ruins everyone in her vicinity. All she knows how to do is take and take from them.

Leanne isn’t worth the air she breathes, and I hope once I’m done with her, she never puts anyone under her thumb again.

Part of me feels guilty for these thoughts because she’s still my mother, a fact she’s made sure to throw in my face hundreds of times.

But blood doesn’t make family and I don’t owe her my love, loyalty, or time of day.

I have a life of my own, a job, and an amazing best friend.

I’m never going to be truly happy with her in my life, so yes, the next time I see her will be the last. I’m cutting ties for good. It’s high time.