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If anyone looked out of place here, it’s my mother. However, that’s the least of my worries.
I don’t want her here.
She’s not allowed to be here since she doesn’t have an appointment.
And Hudson will kill me if she’s just hovering aimlessly without any real purpose.
“Why are you working here? What happened to your job at the doctor’s office?”
She means Dr. McGrabby.
Yes, you heard me correctly. The man was super touchy and, I don’t know, the way he used to speak was creepy. I've never been offered on-the-spot checkups or after-hours availability by a doctor before.
Sounded like a blurred line of sexual harassment to me.
“What’s wrong with it?” I retort back. “It pays well.”
Ish.
I’m also a part-time home health aide. It’s flexible, and I don’t have to work a solid eight hours. Plus, I love my new client, Mrs. Yates. She’s sassy, loves watching bad reality TV, and allows me to bring my daughter to work with me. It’s as though I’m not working at all when I’m with her.
“It’s not…” She lowers her voice to a loud whisper. “Olive, it’s not proper for a young lady to work for a bunch of men who…” My face lifts at what she’s trying to portray with her point, even though I could finish it for her.
Social standing and reputation are an absolute must in her head. And, if you don’t come with a loaded 401k and a Rolls-Royce, you might as well forget it.
“Have you packed yet? We have the cabin rented out next weekend.”
“No.”
My mother’s eyes widen like she just got electrocuted. “What? You’re telling me you won’t spend time with your family for your father’s birthday? We only do this once every year.” My lips part, on my way to explain everything, but she continues rambling. “Are you too old and cool for us now, Liv, is that it? You graduated high school, had a child out of wedlock, and can’t be bothered with family events.”
My whole body tenses as she tries to throw in my surprise pregnancy in the middle of those issues. My mother is not your typical grandma. If you even say the word, she flips out. And there is no world where she’ll ever be okay with it unless I marry Marshall.
My baby daddy.
“No, Mom,” I declare with a scowl. “I only said that we haven’t packed yet.”
“Your brother is bringing his girlfriend. They just started dating, but she’s lovely.”
“I met her.” She’s a flake. And Mom only likes her because she agrees to everything she says. “And?—”
“Are you sleeping around?” She narrows her eyes accusingly at me and, what the hell? “You’re not…you’re not being a…” Her cheeks flush pink, and I wrinkle my face in response. Though, I do raise my brows, prompting her to say the words she wants to say.
Whore.
Ho.
Harlot.
Whatever.
“Olive, are you single again? Where’s Carter?”
He is probably balls-deep in his ex-girlfriend right now.
I stretch my neck because Mom and I are about to enter round one thousand of the same argument over and over again. “We broke up.”
Mom releases an exasperated exhale, leaning her elbows almost exactly where Miles’s were a moment ago. “Olive, why can’t you keep a man? What have I told you about running your mouth all the time? I told you it was going to get you in trouble. I know you don’t like waiting on a man hand and foot but, honey, you don’t need to all the time.”
