Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(61)

I wondered how rude it would be if I got up and started walking, and didn’t stop until I hit Vancouver.

“She’s a great kid,” Trixie went on, winking at me.

“Couldn’t have asked for better. Got great grades, never got into trouble. Even when her Dad left, Jet kicked in…

took care of everyone,” Mom said.

I froze.

This particular conversation was not going to happen, not now, not ever.

“Mom…” I warned, giving her a kil ing glance.

“What? You did.” Mom looked at Eddie, “She was fourteen, got herself a job to help me with grocery money…”

“Mom…” I repeated, a lot louder this time.

“What?” Mom said, a lot louder too, “You did. I’m not embarrassed to admit I fel apart when your Dad left.

Especial y not considering I’d raised a daughter who kept the family together.” She turned to Eddie and smiled her dazzling majorette smile, “I take ful credit.” I leaned into her, what I thought was threateningly.

“Stop talking,” I demanded, stil in the throes of the Bitch Strategy.

I guess I wasn’t very threatening.

“You should be proud of yourself,” Mom said to me, using her “don’t argue with your mother” voice I ignored The Voice.

“Why? Anyone would do it,” I returned.

“Lottie didn’t,” Trixie pointed out.

This was true; Lottie didn’t, mainly because I didn’t want her to. I wanted her to be able to be a kid and that’s what she was.

“Let’s change the subject,” I suggested.

“Eddie,” Ada said, forging into the breach, “what do you think of Jet’s new hair-do? Isn’t it pretty?” I gave up trying to eat and leaned back in my seat.

“Somebody, please kil me,” I asked the ceiling.

Eddie’s hand curled around my neck and his thumb stroked me there.

Electricity shot from my neck, straight to my ni**les.

Bad idea, leaning back in my seat. I forgot about Eddie’s arm.

I leaned forward immediately.

“What’s for dessert?” Trixie asked, her eyes dancing.

She’d caught the hand action. “I hope it’s lemon meringue pie.”

I could have shot myself.

I’d made chocolate sheet cake. Trixie loved my chocolate sheet cake, demanded that I make it for her birthday every year. I should have bought something Sara Lee.

“Chocolate sheet cake,” Mom announced.

Trixie’s eyes got huge and she turned to Eddie, “You’l ask her to marry you after you taste her chocolate sheet cake.”

I threw my chair back, got up and grabbed my plate.

“I’m done. Anyone else done?”

Mom looked up at me. “Jet, sit down. No one else is done.”

“Then I’l go make more iced tea.”

And I ran.

My f**king mother.

And yes, it was definitely an f-word moment.

I hid in the kitchen, making more iced tea and getting the coffee ready for dessert. I also got out the dessert plates and forks. I also cleaned the pots, rinsed my plate and cutlery, put them in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters.

Then Trixie came in, bearing used dishes.

She glared at me.

“That was rude.”

I didn’t care if it was rude. Rude was good. I was embracing rude with everything I had.

“You don’t understand what’s going on,” I told her.

“So explain it to me,” she shot back.

Since I didn’t understand what was going on either, I couldn’t.

“Just trust me, this is not what it seems.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, al pissed off and not believing me, not even a little bit. She put the dishes in the sink and then a hand to her hip.

I was surrounded by women who could pul off the attitudinal hand on hip. Again, I had to ask, why me?

She went on, “From where I sat, it seemed like he was very interested in every word that was said. From where I sat, he seemed very interested in watching you the whole time we talked. From what I can see, he seems like a nice guy.”

“How can you tel ? You haven’t let him get a word in edgewise,” I said.

She started to look uncomfortable then hid it.

“Maybe we were laying it on a bit thick.”

“A bit?” I snapped.

Her hand came away from her hip, her face changed and she grabbed my arms.

“Jet, honey, who made the rule that you weren’t al owed to be happy?”

“No one. I’l be happy… someday. Just not with Eddie.”

“Why not with Eddie?”

“Have you looked at Eddie?”

Her eyes got kind of dreamy.

She’d looked at Eddie.

“Enough said,” I finished.

She stared at me, coming back into the room.

“What’s the way Eddie looks got to do with the price of tea in China?”

How to explain?

See, the thing was, good things didn’t happen to me. It wasn’t as if I had a sorry, sad life. My life wasn’t better or worse than anyone else’s. I’d had ups, I’d had downs.

Okay, so there were a lot of downs, but there were also a lot of good times too.