Mothered (14)

“Oh sure, everyone appreciates the art, until they have to pay for it.”

“I would happily pay you!” Grace gave him a playful jab.

“I’m just kidding—of course I’d love to bestow a masterpiece to the cause of Grace’s first house.”

“Thank you, lovey.”

“You’re welcome, lovey.”

They exchanged air-kisses.

“Shall we open this?” Miguel held up the wine.

“Yes we shall, assuming I can find the corkscrew.”

“How could you misplace such a thing?” He followed her into the dining room.

“Oh I didn’t, but there’s been a little rearranging—”

Jackie moved into the entryway, grinning like a fool, blocking Grace’s path to the kitchen.

“You must be Miss Jacquelyn!” Miguel took her hand and bent to kiss it but kept his lips inches from her skin. “Welcome back to the ’burgh.”

“Thank you, oh my.” The wattage of her delight lit up the room. “Supper’s almost ready—it’s been a minute since I had a chance to cook for anyone.”

“She cooks too.” Miguel gave Grace a look she interpreted as You really are so lucky. Was he being sarcastic? Why couldn’t she tell? Last night’s dream resurfaced, the itchy memory of her sister’s demands. “Ladies, I have to say, both of you, your hair is looking fabulous.”

Grace touched her pink ends. “It isn’t too much?”

“It’s way too much, but you never do Extra—this is a nice change. And I assume you did Miss Jacquelyn’s?”

“I love that you call me Jacquelyn. And what lovely flowers.” Her greedy eyes locked on Grace’s bouquet. “A real gentleman—I didn’t think there were any left.”

Grace glanced at Miguel and suspected they were wondering the same thing: Did her mother think this flamboyantly gay friend was her date?

“Let’s put these in some water.” Her mother lifted the flowers from Grace’s hands and turned back to the kitchen.

“And find the corkscrew. Stat.” She still had a lot of apprehension about introducing Jackie to her friends. Grace had shared with Miguel only snippets of her childhood, and this version of her mother, as nice as she could seem, was a bit too alien, a shade too unpredictable.



“Mm. This is the finest virgin puttanesca I’ve ever had.” Miguel ate with gusto.

Jackie laughed and blushed. Maybe Grace had read it wrong—was her mom crushing on Miguel? The flowers were now beautifully displayed in a vase beside her, and sometimes Jackie reached out and touched one of the soft, delicate petals.

“If things don’t work out here with Grace, you can come stay with me.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Grace mumbled before swallowing more wine. She appreciated Miguel’s jolly mood and his efforts to be so sweet with her mom, but it was starting to seem a little over the top.

“I would like to do more of the cooking, but I don’t think Grace wants me to.”

Grace stopped chewing (the sauce was good) and looked at her mom. “This is the first thing you’ve made. You never mentioned doing the cooking.”

“I’d be happy to do the cooking—it’s something I really learned to enjoy. Glen taught me so much”—she turned to Miguel—“Glen was my first husband. First legal husband. I lived with Paul, Grace’s father, for years and he always said we were gonna get married, but then he just poof, disappeared.”

Miguel had given Jackie only half a glass of wine, per her request, but after his brief toast to new-houses-and-good-friends-and-moms, she’d swallowed it in one gulp. Her words were starting to slur.

“And after Glen died—prostate cancer, he just refused to go to the doctor, didn’t want someone sticking a finger up his butt—”

Grace met Miguel’s eyes, and they both snickered. They would never, ever admit to Jackie just how many discussions they’d had about things going in—and out—of butts.

“Well, it’s not funny really.” Jackie sounded wounded.

“Inside joke.” Grace shook her head, clearing images and inappropriate humor from her mind.

“I loved Glen, regardless of what you thought of him, and he was marvelous in the kitchen. Anyway, I’ve been cooking ever since, and I think I could make you much healthier meals than those frozen dinners stacked in the freezer.”

Miguel wagged his fork at Grace. “Processed food is very high in sodium. Not healthy.”

She gave him a smirk. He knew full well that she used to eat better, that she used to get almost daily meals from the assorted Mediterranean restaurants within a stone’s throw of the salon. But then she got serious about saving for a down payment on a house. And then the world gradually fell apart. Hadn’t everyone gotten lazier while they were stuck at home? Miguel didn’t comment on her weight—maybe it didn’t look any different in real life than it did in a video chat—but Grace wondered if she was fooling herself with all her elastic-waisted comfy pants; she might have gained quite a bit more than ten pounds.

“Mom, I would be very happy for you to do the cooking if it’s something you enjoy. You hadn’t said anything, so I didn’t know.”