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Once the mugs and bowls were dried and put away, I swept and wiped down all the surfaces. I’d just pulled out the mini-vac to clean the cushions on the couch when I heard the door open.
I turned and saw my mom walk in wearing a white V-neck t-shirt with The Greasy Spoon logo on the right chest and a name tag that read Celeste. As always, I was struck by just how beautiful she was. I used to think she looked like an angel, even though she never acted like one.
Celeste Rhodes had thick blonde hair, huge blue eyes, and full lips. She’d grown up doing beauty pageants. She had just been crowned Miss Clover County when she got pregnant at sixteen with my brother Remi. She was stripped of her title and was not able to compete in Miss Teen Texas.
Even though it had been nearly a decade since I’d seen her last, she didn’t look a day older. Whenever I showed people photos of her, they thought she was my sister, not my mom, which, in fairness, was how she acted.
“What are you doing here?” she asked accusatorily as she removed her oversized sunglasses.
When she did, I noticed her cheeks were sunken in, and she looked thin—really thin. I wondered if she’d lost weight recently or if it had happened gradually. The last time I’d seen her was the day I left home. Neither of us had money to make trips—or at least that’s what we said the reason was. I’d never had a particularly close relationship with my mom.
She’d never been the maternal type, at least not with me. She and Remi were a lot closer, but he was ten years older than me. She wasn’t a single mom with Remi. She’d married his dad, Tim, and they’d raised him together. But Tim died a year before I was born. From the photos and home videos I’d seen, they’d been a very happy family. She was a stay-at-home mom, and they’d lived in a cute cottage that overlooked Emerald Cove Lake. By the time I was born, the house was in foreclosure, and we moved into the trailer when I was six months old.
I set the mini-vac down and removed my yellow latex gloves. “I told you I was coming.”
“You said next Monday.”
“Yeah, I said that last week.” I’d called her after I walked in on Peter and Jessica.
“That would be this Monday. I thought you meant next Monday.”
“Sorry.” I apologized for the confusion.
She shrugged. “Well, I hope you didn’t wake Randy up.”
Who the hell is Randy?
My unspoken question was answered when Randall Graham walked out in a pair of white briefs and nothing else. Randall was two years behind me in school, but we’d never been friends. He and his friends ditched school and smoked weed under the bleachers, and if memory served, he got expelled his sophomore year. I had perfect attendance, was in musical theater, band, was a tutor, and graduated with honors.
“Randall, what are you doing here?” When I asked my mom if I could stay for a few days, she hadn’t mentioned that she was renting out my room.
Randall ignored my question and answered it simultaneously. He grabbed my mom’s ass and pulled her into him before shoving his tongue down her throat.
“Randy!” My mom giggled as she swatted him. “You are so bad.”
I’d thought the sour milk in the sink was going to make me throw up, but this was even more nauseating.
After being mauled by Randall, my mom looked over her shoulder at me. “Do you two know each other?”
“No,” I answered.
“Yeah, Rubes, remember, you tutored me in math.”
Right. I’d totally forgotten the two weeks I’d spent trying to teach Randall basic algebra. It hadn’t gone well.
“So you two are together?” I asked a question I already knew the answer to.
My mom lifted up her left hand and wiggled her fingers, showcasing a solitaire diamond ring. “We’re married.”
“Married?! Since when?”
“Since a month ago. We’re newlyweds.”
“What? How did this…why didn’t you tell me?”
My mom waved her hand dismissively. “You’ve had that drama goin’ on, and it wasn’t like we planned it. We were out in Vegas for a tournament?—”
“A tournament?” I cut in.
