Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(120)

“Stop.” I placed my hands over the door, blocking her escape. I looked directly into her eyes and then I saw it—that look of guilt, that look she always got whenever she didn’t want to admit to something.

I narrowed my eyes. “What the f**k did you do?”

“Watch how you talk to me! I’m your mother! You can’t just—”

“What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing...Can you please move so I can get the menu?”

“No.”

She shook her head and walked past me, taking a seat on the couch. She patted the seat next to her, but I stood still by the door.

“I met her at my gift shop a couple months ago...She bought those sea hooks you got for your birthday from me.”

“And?”

“And nothing...I didn’t put two and two together until we were in your office that day and I remembered that her name was Claire...Is that not okay? Does that make me a bad person?”

I blinked. I was about to drop the subject, but then something else hit me. “Why did Angela say you had seven phones with seven different numbers? You’ve been calling me from the same number since you got out of rehab...”

Her face suddenly turned red and she gasped. “No reason, I—”

“Tell me the truth.”

“It’s not what you—”

“Stop bullshitting me! You said something to her didn’t you?” I should’ve caught this a long time ago...Why didn’t I see this?

“I—”

“I will lock both of us in this room until you start talking.”

She sighed. “I just told her that she was wrong for dating you...that someone her age should know better...And ever since that day I saw her in your office, I told her that she was wrong every chance I got...”

“I want the details.”

“Please don’t make me—”

“Now.”

She swallowed. “At first I was just calling her...and then I...” She stopped every few sentences, telling me how she called Claire every day and left threatening voicemails, how she sent her mean emails with photo shopped pictures, how she asked Angela to get her a new phone with a new number every Monday so the calls wouldn’t be traced to her own phone.

“And me and Vanessa—”

“Vanessa was in on this too?” I balled my fists.

She nodded. “She was the one who told me that Claire was only after you for your money so...We hired a private investigator to dig up some dirt on her past and I used it against her...I even hired an investigator in Pittsburgh to follow her ex-husband and his new wife around so I could throw that in her face...I thought she was using you...I thought—”

“Did I ever ask what you thought? Did I ever say, Mother, tell me what you think about Claire?”

“No...”

“No? Are you sure?” I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. “Or is that something else you don’t remember?”

She began to cry.

“Do you want to know why the answer is no? It’s because it doesn’t f**king matter what you think and it never will. I don’t need—”

“I was only trying to protect you! I didn’t know that —”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know, a lot of shit you can’t seem to remember lately. But since we’re sharing stories now, let me help you out. Let me tell you exactly why what you think will never matter to me: You were never there when I needed you to be. Ever. You let me, a f**king kid, take care of a toddler while you and my father were out doing god knows what. You showed up high to everything I had at school—you were so f**king high you made me drive the car to the store when I was eight! But you don’t remember that do you? You don’t remember how you never did shit for us—how we had to beg you to come back with food, or how you left us in a trailer that damn near killed us. You still have yet to even apologize for that because you don’t want to own up to being the horrible f**king mother that you are. ”

“I was on drugs! I’ve apologized over and over and you just keep dragging this out because—”

“Get out.”

“Please just lis—”

“Get. Out.” I pulled the door open and walked over to my desk. I was done with her.

Sobbing, she slid her purse strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. She twisted the doorknob and slowly pulled it open.

“Wait.” I sighed.

She looked back with tears in her eyes. “Yes?”

I glared at her, tempted to say “I never want to hear from you again. Stay the hell out of my life,” but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

As furious as I was with her, I was now even angrier with Claire. She didn’t even think to tell me about everything that had gone on; she’d simply used my mom’s behavior as an excuse to take the easy way out.

“Take a seat.”

“No...” She wiped her face and sniffled. “I don’t care how mad you are at me, you’re not going to treat me like—”

“SIT DOWN, mother.”

She moved away from the door and walked over to my desk, plopping down on a seat.

I took a deep breath. “You and I are going to talk, without our therapist. You’re going to be completely honest with me and I’m going to be completely honest with you. Once we’re done talking, if nothing good comes of it, we’re going to go our separate ways...I want you to know that I’ll always take care of you and give you whatever you need, but we don’t have to pretend like this relationship is something worth salvaging if it’s really not. Can you—”