MY HEART PUMPS FURIOUSLY when I see my mother standing on the terrace as if she belongs here, wearing one of her beautiful pink tweed Chanel suits. It’s warm outside and I’m sweating, yet there’s not even a sheen to my mother’s face. Her makeup is perfection, her hair coiffed into the standard Sylvia Lancaster style. That severe blonde bob that looks like a weapon when she swings her head. Sharp and cutting.
Much like the words she says.
I glance around the table, the shocked expressions on my friends’ and families’ faces, and I wonder which one of them betrayed me.
My heart cracks at the realization.
Mother walks out onto the terrace, stopping one of the servers with a gentle hand on his arm. “Can you set an extra place at the table for me, young man?”
“Of course.” He dutifully nods and heads into the house, closing the door behind him.
Only moments ago, we were talking. Laughing. Now it’s dead silent, everyone sending secret looks to each other, the air growing more and more uncomfortable the longer nothing is said.
Straightening my spine, I march over to my mother, curling my fingers around her elbow and steering her toward the door. “Let’s talk inside.”
Before she can say anything, I drag her into the apartment, shutting the door behind us. My gaze catches on Spencer, who’s watching us both, his expression impassive, though I see heat in his gaze. Anger.
That man will burst in here and save me if he has to. All I need to do is give the signal.
“Why are you here?” I ask, letting her arm go immediately. I don’t want any connection with her. I can’t even believe she showed her face at Spencer’s apartment. Somewhere she wasn’t invited. Talk about rude. This goes against all of those decorum lectures she used to give us as children.
She huffs, tugging on the hem of her jacket, straightening it. “My entire family is here, yet somehow my invitation was lost in the mail.”
I decide to be truthful. “You weren’t invited.”
Her lips part, a soft exhale escaping her. “It has always been the Lancaster way for all of us to be present at family events. Holidays. Your father and I made sure that happened once the divorce proceedings started. We may not want to be together any longer, but we still want to be a family.”
“I don’t want to be a family with you,” I tell her. She noticeably flinches, and there’s a part of me deep inside that feels terrible for saying such a thing, but she needs to hear the truth. And it has to come from me. “Not after everything you’ve put me through.”
“Darling, that should be all the reason for us to become closer.” She takes a step forward, and it’s my turn to flinch. “We have been through so much together, and look at us. We came out of it alive. Thriving.”
“No thanks to you,” I retort, glancing over at the server who walks past us, a new table setting clutched in his hands. “Don’t bother,” I tell him. “She’s not going to eat.”
He stops, his gaze sliding between me and my mother. “Uh…”
“Set it,” Mother says firmly. “I’m staying.”
“You’re not,” I return. “You need to go.”
“Sylvie! You’re being ridiculous. I’m staying,” she stresses. “Go set the table.”
Mother waves a dismissive hand at the guy and he takes off, most likely freaked out by our power struggle.
I can’t blame him. I’m freaked out too. I’m shaking, and my stomach roils, threatening to send back up the lovely lunch I just ate.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I turn to my mother once again, hating the triumphant expression on her face. She believes she’s got me cornered. That I’ll give in to her like I always do.
“You can’t just show up to places you’re not invited. You know better than that.” God, I sound just like her, but it’s the truth. “We don’t have a relationship anymore, Mother. I don’t want to be around you.”
She blinks at me, shock in her gaze. On her face. “Why in the world not?”
Is she that oblivious? That delusional?
I glance around before I speak, lowering my voice. “Because you hurt me.”
She rests a hand on her chest, scandalized. “I did nothing of the sort. I would never hurt you. You’re my child! Your health issues were brought on by…hysteria. Thankfully, you weren’t as sick as we thought you were. Was I a little overprotective in my quest to heal you? Probably, but I don’t see how anyone can fault me for wanting my child to be well.”
Yes. She’s completely delusional. It’s clear.
“The last time we were together, I woke up to you holding a pillow over my head,” I remind her, my voice turning into a whisper. “You were trying to smother me.”
“Not at all. I was checking on you because I knew how distraught you were, and I brought a pillow with me for your comfort,” she says, changing the narrative. “You were going through such a tough time after Earl passed. I was trying to be there for you.”
“Please. For whatever reason, you were trying to end me. You’ve always tried to end me, ever since I was a little girl. At the very least, you tried to control me. Smothering me with your constant attention, when all I wanted was for someone else to notice me, especially my father. Anyone, really.”
Her expression is somber. “It’s amazing, how similar we are.”
I flinch at her words. I hate hearing her say that. “We’re nothing alike. For one, I don’t try to destroy the people I love.”
“Oh darling.” She makes a tsking noise. “Look at what you’ve done to Spencer over the years.”
Rage floods me, making my head feel like it’s going to pop off. “Keep his name out of your mouth.”
A sigh leaves her and she slowly shakes her head. “Why do you always say the worst things about me, when I only wanted the best for you? You were a sickly child. Don’t you remember?”
“Only because you made me sick. There was nothing wrong with me. It all came out of nowhere. The sudden visits to the emergency room in the middle of the night. The endless consultations and tests. I remember thinking you enjoyed telling the doctors what was wrong with me, and how you fought for my well-being like you were some sort of saint. You always said you were my greatest advocate.”
Her chest seems to puff out with pride.
“But you were more like my greatest detriment,” I add.
She deflates like a balloon at my words.
“I can’t be around you,” I tell her, my voice small. I’m sad. I don’t know how many times I have to say this to her. When will she finally get it? “If you keep coming around uninvited, I’ll have to file a restraining order against you.”
“You would never,” she breathes.
“I would.” I nod, glancing over my shoulder to find Spencer still watching us on the other side of the window. The moment our gazes connect, he’s marching toward the door. Walking inside the apartment until he’s standing right beside me.
“Is everything okay here?” he asks, his voice firm, his gaze on my mother.
“This is private family business,” Mother starts, but I cut her off.
“I want him here. I consider him a part of my family.”
She presses her lips together, contemplating the two of us, her upper lip lifting in a slight sneer. “It’s like that now, hmm? You two are together?”
Spencer slips his arm around my shoulders, and I almost want to faint in relief at his nearness. “We are,” he says.
Her gaze is filled with fury when it settles on me. “Did your father put you up to this?”
“Why would he have anything to do with my relationship with Spencer?” I’m incredulous.
“He knows how I feel about the Donato boy.” She speaks of Spencer as if he’s not even standing in front of her. “I never approved of the two of you spending time together. I didn’t like how close your brother got to him either.”
“I’d watch what you say if I were you,” he says, his tone clipped. “You’re standing in my house.”
“Paid for with mob money.” Mother turns her wrath on Spence. “Your father is a criminal. I assume you’re one too.”
“Get out,” Spencer says between clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring. “Leave my house now before I have you escorted out.”
“By some of your goons? How charming.” Mother lifts her chin, returning her attention to me. “When you finally have enough of his criminal lifestyle, I’m sure you’ll come crying back to me, begging me to take you in, though I won’t. You need to learn a lesson. The only one who’s ever been there for you is me. Not your father. Not your brother or your sister. And certainly not this man, who probably busts kneecaps for a living. Me. I’m the only one who truly loves you.”
I stare at her, visibly shaking. Thank God Spence still has his arm around my shoulders, stabilizing me. “Shut up,” I whisper.
My words only seem to egg her on and make her talk even more.
“You can’t go it alone, Sylvie. You’ve never been able to. You need someone to guide you. To take care of you. You’re a pathetic little creature who can’t stand on her own two feet, and I want to help you. I really do. But it’s so terribly hard to help those who can’t help themselves.” With a little sigh, she shakes her head and turns, heading for the door. “I don’t need to be escorted out. I hope you come to your senses soon, Sylvie. Before it’s too late.”
The door closes seconds later and my entire body seems to turn into liquid as I lean into Spencer. He steers me out of the living room until we’re in his bedroom, the door closed behind us, me crying into Spencer’s shirt. He holds me close, running his hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture, murmuring comforting words I can barely hear.
I hate that she said all of those cruel things. Worse?
I hate that I believe what she said.
Maybe I can’t go it alone. I am a pathetic creature who needs guidance. Help. She made me that way. She raised me to not believe in myself. To think she’s the only one who can actually take care of me, and I hate her for that.
I hate her so much.
“We figured out how she knew about your party,” Spencer says at one point in the midst of my crying.
I pull away from him, so I can look at his face. “How?”
I brace myself, waiting to hear who betrayed me by telling my mother about this.
“Social media. Cliff posted a story on IG and tagged you. Your father did too.” Spencer winces. “He feels terrible about it. They both do.”
“How did she know that the party was being hosted by us?” I wipe at the corner of my eyes, trying to catch a few stray tears.
“Cliff tagged you and noted his location. In your father’s video he posted, you can see all of us in the background. You and me. Carolina. Whit and Summer.”
I press my forehead against his chest, closing my eyes. “She’s been stalking me on social media, I assume.”
“Stalking everyone it looks like,” he agrees, just as he slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my face up. “No one told her about the party. She just made her own assumptions.”
“I worried someone said something,” I admit. “I thought maybe Monty would want to create a little chaos, not knowing how bad it really is between my mother and me.”
“He did nothing, though he did admit he got a little excited when your mother first appeared. He didn’t realize your relationship with your mother was basically destroyed. No one told him the real reason either,” Spencer reassures.
“I don’t want it getting out. The gossip will be unbearable.”
His jaw firms, and I can tell he’s clenching his teeth. “Why are you protecting her? She tried to kill you, Sylvie. You said so yourself.”
“Based on my own assumptions. I don’t know it as fact,” I say.
“Don’t fall for her lies. She’s trying to convince you that your assumptions are wrong, when they’re not. You should try to see some of those doctors she used to take you to. Look at your medical files. You have every right to request to see your medical records from when you were a kid.”
“I visited so many doctors and specialists, and went to so many clinics. All over the state, the country. We even went to a few places internationally. Not a single one of them knew what was wrong with me. I’m sure my records are filled with an endless list of symptoms and no solutions.”
“Don’t give up on yourself.” He grips me by my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake. “You deserve to know what she did to you.”
“Her evil deeds aren’t documented, Spence. My mother isn’t stupid.” I hang my head, staring at my sandal-clad feet. They’re a nude color and strappy, and my toenails are painted the same shade of pink as my dress. I put so much planning and thought into this afternoon, and it’s all been ruined by my mother’s appearance.
If I’m not doing the ruining, she is.
“Maybe you should file a restraining order against her,” Spencer says quietly.
I lift my head. “That’s just so…final.”
“You need to do something. She’s a threat to you, Syl. It’s like she gets off on making you uncomfortable. She knows she rattles you.” He snaps his lips shut, exhaling through his nostrils. Oh, he looks angry on my behalf, and a part of me loves that. “I hate that she spooks you so badly.”
“It’s more than spooking me,” I admit. “She…terrifies me. Even when we’re with a bunch of people. Even when we’re in the middle of a wedding with hundreds of guests. I never know what she’s going to do or say to devastate me. And that’s just with her words. The fact that she’s a physical threat to me is…horrifying. She wants to hurt me, Spence”
The last words come out of me in a harsh whisper, my throat closing up. Knowing you can’t trust the woman who brought you into the world is agonizing.
Heartbreaking.
“You can never be alone with her again,” he says vehemently.
I can’t help but smile. “Don’t worry. I try my hardest not to be around her at all.”
“Yet she still comes around.” He shakes his head. “She shows up here again, I’m calling the cops.”
“You’d call the police for me, despite what you—do?” I’m referring to the mob stuff. His father’s business. The blood money, Mom accusing him of being a criminal. Everyone talks about it, but I don’t see it.
I kind of want to see it.
“I would do anything to keep her away from you.” He yanks me back into his arms, holding me so tight, it’s like I can’t breathe.
“Sometimes I wish she would just…disappear,” I admit, resting my cheek against the lapel of his jacket.
He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “That can be arranged.”
I don’t respond, unsure if he’s serious or not but…
I’m kind of thinking he might be.
