The VIP Room(92)

"Lauren, darling, is that what you wear when having company?"

"I wasn't expecting you, Mother," Lauren said, wishing she had the nerve to say it through clenched teeth.

"Not me, darling. The hunky gentlemen who just sped off in the manly truck."

Lauren sighed. "He wasn't company, either. I'm having some landscaping done, and he came by to give me an estimate."

"Still, my dear. You look like something the cat dragged through the mud and brought home half dead. What happened to you?"

Lauren gasped as she looked down at herself. She hadn't realized her curvy parts were protruding so noticeably through the dampened shirt. She pulled it out, and ran her hands over her hair.

"Yes, your hair is sticking out all over the place, where it isn't frizzing up or plastered to your forehead."

Lauren groaned, feeling her head for the offending split ends. "Why are you here, anyway? Isn't today bridge day at the club?"

"Yes, but I told the girls I had to leave early. I thought you might need help around your new home."

"You're not exactly dressed for unpacking, Mother. Besides, I'm sure you'd ruin your manicure."

"Then let me take you out to lunch. I'll wait while you shower and get ready."

"No, I have too much to do. While it's been lovely to see you, I've got to get some things done. I go back to work tomorrow."

Her mother pulled her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose and peered over the top. "Sounds to me like you're trying to get rid of me. At least let me come in and use your restroom before I leave. Maybe you could offer me something to drink. That's what people usually do when guests arrive."

A guest is someone who is invited, Lauren thought. "Fine. Let's go inside," she said.

She turned the handle of the front door, but it was locked. Lauren sighed.

"I'll have to go around back. I was on the patio when Derek arrived, and we walked around to the front to see what magic he could do with the yard."

"Derek? So you're on a first-name basis with the help? Where did you find him, anyway?"

"A flyer in our homeowners' newsletter."

"Really, Lauren. It's much better to get your service people through recommendations of friends. Why don't I ask our groundskeeper for the name of someone or, better yet, have him come over and take care of it himself?"

Lauren shook her head. "I've got it handled, thank you."

Turning her eyes downward to avoid her mother's icy stare, she came across an opportunity to change the subject.

"It's muddy on the grass, Mother, and you're wearing high-heeled sandals. Wait here a minute, and I'll go around back and open this door from inside."

Lauren brushed past her mother and hustled around back. Once she got to the front door, she looked over to see her reflection in the entry hall mirror. She was mortified. For once her mother was right. She did look like something the cat dragged in.

She tried to wipe the mud from her forehead, but now it was dried, so it stuck. Nothing short of a good shampoo and blow dry would help her hair at this point. And her shirt! It was all stretched out from being tugged away from her body, and there were huge wet spots around her boobs, belly, and butt. She stared at herself hopelessly. Tears began to spill down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away when she heard her mother banging on the other side of the door and pushing the doorbell.

"Sorry," Lauren said as she opened the door. "Come in. I haven't gone shopping yet, but I can make you some iced tea or coffee."

Her mother's eyes traveled over the room filled with boxes and stacks of books to be put away. "All right, dear. But I won't stay long. I see what you mean about still having so much to do."

"Let's go into the kitchen where there's someplace for us to sit down."

Lauren guided her mother to a small table and quickly cleared a space on the tabletop. She poured two iced teas from a pitcher, wishing she could make hers the alcoholic Long Island Iced Tea variety. She pulled two paper napkins from the holder on countertop, grabbed the sugar bowl and two spoons, and quickly set it all up before sitting down opposite her mother.

Her mother was strangely silent as she watched Lauren dump two heaping teaspoons of sugar into her glass and stir it.

"Everything all right, Mother? Don't you like the tea?"

Open mouth. Insert foot. Lauren wanted to bite her tongue. She had given her mother a huge opening, one she knew the older woman wouldn't pass up.

"The tea is fine. It's all this--" Her mother waved her arm in a sweeping motion. "It's all so unnecessary, darling. I don't understand why you choose to live in this ... this cottage when you had a perfectly lovely home with your father and me."

"Mom, I'm twenty-eight years old. It's time for me be on my own."

Lauren sighed and her voice softened. "We've been over this a hundred times already."

"Yes, yes. But you could have bought something more like the home where you grew up. There are so many nice homes in our neighborhood for sale now. Why this house in this part of town?"

Lauren held her tongue, rather than snap out that it was the furthest distance she could get from her parents' house and still make it to work in timely fashion. She took a deep breath.