It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)(46)

Uhhh…okay. Can’t say I’ve ever heard a car’s performance described quite like that.

She continued, “But diss is beside the point, Leely.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Did you know that Patricio’s oldest brother does not belong to his father?”

All right. Getting awkward. “I wasn’t aware.” Patricio always spoke about his family in general terms—“We make wine, we breed horses, my family is crazy.”

She went on, “Yes. I did not marry the man who first got me… What is it that you say in English? Knocked down?”

I tried not to smile at the appropriateness of her choice of words. I definitely felt like I’d been knocked down. Every morning, I got up and then I got down. On my knees. And talked to the monster—rarrr…ughhh…gaggg…

“You mean knocked up,” I offered.

“Si. Knocked up. But the man I felt this passion for was not a man who could be a good father.”

Oh. Now I understood where she was going. “Mrs. Ferrari—”

“Please. Call me Bibiana.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Bibiana, I appreciate that you came all the way to tell me this, but I’m not sure I have the same feelings for your son as he has for me.”

“I know this. I see it in your eyes, and it is why I am here. You must look forward, Leely, and see the future. Not only for you, but for your children. Do you want a husband who is broken with a broken family or do you want them to grow up loved with many people who will care for them always.”

“You know the answer to that, but it’s not that easy.” And it wasn’t as if I didn’t have family of my own.

“It is that easy. You commit to a man. You accept his heart. And then you live. It is that easy, Leely.”

She made it all sound so simple, like signing up for cable.

She continued, “I only want you to hear from his mother’s mouth that he is a good boy who loves you. He lied to me and, for this, I am upset, but it should only convince you of his good nature. He wanted to protect me and nothing more.”

I drew a breath and nodded.

“We want you, Leely. We do not know you, but we know you are the only woman to take our Patricio’s heart and make it bigger than himself. He does not care about being the real father of your baby. He only cares about loving you and being a husband to you, and this is everything.”

Her words brought tears to my eyes. And it was so sweet how much she loved her son. But it changed nothing. Or did it?

No. Definitely no.

“Thank you, Bibiana. But it’s like I said, the issue was never Patricio. It was always—”

There was a knock on my door.

Great. I went over and opened it. “Mom?”

“Hi, sweetie! I thought you might enjoy a little three-bean salad and a meatloaf.” She moved past me and then stopped, catching sight of Bibiana. “Well, hello. I didn’t realize Lily had visitors. I’m her mother, Gladys.”

Bibiana stood. “It is so nice to meet you, Leely’s mother. I am the mother of Patricio.”

My mother set down her containers of food on my little kitchen/dining table. “Oh my god. It’s so nice to meet you. Patricio is such a lovely young man.”

Why did I suddenly feel like a kindergartner whose mom was meeting one of the other moms in order to set up a playdate?

Bibiana walked around my coffee table to give my mother a giant hug and a kiss on each cheek.

Once properly greeted a la Italiana, my mother pulled back. “So nice to finally meet you.”

“You can call me Bibiana. We are almost like family.”

My mother’s stiff brows told me she was confused but trying to hide it in the name of politeness. Given I was done with the charades and juvenile game playing, I felt obligated to tell my mother why Bibiana was here. But before I could open my mouth, there was another knock at the door.

I froze with fear. The last two knockers had been these two women, and frankly, I needed to get packed and off to the airport. With a groan, I went to open the front door. “Max?”

He looked like a castaway—thick stubble, wrinkled clothes, circles under his eyes. He still looked manly and gorgeous with that tall frame and angular jaw, but it wasn’t like him to look so…sloppy. Max was Mr. Perfect even on casual Fridays.

“Lily, you remember my mother, Maxine.” He stepped aside and there stood…there stood…

His mother? What the f*ck? She wore her dark hair perfectly straight and had on large sunglasses. A white bandage covered her nose.

Maxine leaned around him and extended her hand. “Hello, Lily,” she said with a stiffness that sounded like an insult.

Stunned, I took her hand and shook it, but I looked at Max.

“May we come in?” he asked.

Fuck. Patricio’s mother was inside as well as my own. Neither was a fan of Max’s mother, and I was pissed and heartbroken over Max.

“Lily, I know what you must be thinking,” said Max, “but just hear me out. Please.”

“Uhhh…okeydokey.” I stepped aside to let them pass.

The moment I shut the door and turned, I was greeted with the uncomfortable view of everyone looking at each other, glaring, but saying nothing.

This is awesome.

I clapped my hands. “All right. Let’s do introductions.” I gestured toward my mother. “This is Gladys, my wonderful mother. This is Bibiana,” I looked at her not-happy face, “Patricio’s mother. And this is…” I tried my best not to snarl, spit, or swing with a fist at her bandaged nose, “the woman who gave birth to Max.” She didn’t deserve the term “mother,” now did she?