“I don’t know. You’re pretty miserable, Mother, and you’re married.”
My eyes widen so big that they may very well fall out of my face. Our mother inhales a sharp breath. After a very long pause, she says in a controlled, scarily calm tone, “I called a date for you, Rose. I’ll see you girls at the event.” She hangs up, and Rose collapses back against the seat, as though she just finished a UFC match.
I don’t think either of them won.
Poppy slides over to her and squeezes her shoulder. “She probably invited Sebastian to be your date.” Before there was a “Connor and Rose,” my sister took Sebastian as her arm candy to appease our mother.
Rose shakes her head and begins smoothing her hair back into place. “No, Sebastian went on a trip to the Cayman Islands with this boyfriend this week. She knew that.”
I can’t even imagine who she set Rose up with, probably someone she’d hope Rose would marry down the line. That’s how Samantha Calloway operates.
Jitters run through my body on high speed. Rose, my rock, has eyes as wide as a Kit-Cat clock. It’s like my mother has zapped her cold. When she wakes from her stupor, she reaches into the ice bucket and pulls out the expensive champagne. She chugs straight from the bottle. I jerk back in surprise. Considering Rose usually wipes the rim of her soda cans, I think it’s safe to say she’s upset.
Daisy remains oblivious outside, her long hair whipping behind her. I guess we all handle our mother in different ways. Rose yells. Daisy finds fresh air. I sink into a corner. Poppy remains calm.
Rose offers the drink to Poppy. She declines. “I’m safe from her. I have a husband.” Yeah, our mother has lost interest in Poppy’s relationships.
“She should know who I am by now,” Rose mutters. “I tell her all the time, you know? I’m never getting married, Mother. And it goes in one ear and out the other. I thought dating Connor would make things better. My first actual boyfriend. She’d be off my case. Instead, she’s whispering in my ear about what to say to him, how I should be, worrying over whether he’ll end things before I do.” Rose curses under her breath and stares up at the ceiling of the car. “How can you love your parents so much, but then absolutely hate them the next?” She inhales a deep breath. “I need to go back to therapy.”
I break into a smile, trying to lighten her downtrodden mood. “You know Connor goes to therapy compulsively too? I asked him where he was going last week, and he said to his daily therapist for just a regular session to let off some steam. Funny that you two have that in common, huh?”
Rose glares. “His therapist is also his ‘best friend.’ So no, we do not have that in common. I actually have people close to me that I love. Like you and Poppy and Daisy…” Her eyes trail up to the torso that stands in the center of the car. “Does she realize we’re on a highway?”
“I think she prefers it that way.” My eyes widen in mock horror. “The danger!” I mimic Daisy’s voice.
Rose and Poppy laugh, although Rose’s dies out rather quickly. She rubs her eyes and groans.
Normally, I’d be excited right now, wondering what face will greet me once we arrive at the event. But I’ve been trying to forget what it feels like to climax, the tingling of my body—the sensation of masculine, hard hands sliding along my skin. And I’m afraid once I see a guy, willing and wanting, I’ll take the opportunity and jump. Without thinking. Without breathing. I’ll just do it and ruin the one good thing in my life.
Rose lets out another long groan.
I have to ask. “What happened with Connor?”
“I thought everything was fine,” Poppy says.
Rose wedges the bottle between her bony knees. “When I’m with him, I roll my eyes so much I feel like they’re going to fall out of my face.” She talks with her hands—so unlike Rose, that I scoot forward on my seat to be closer to her. Rose gestures to her body, trying to express herself, but she looks like she’s swatting the air instead.
I reach out and hold her hand. Rose calms a little. “I can’t believe she’s doing this after I asked her not to.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say, but the words coming from me only worsen the look on her face.
“Did Connor want to break up?” Poppy wonders.
“I don’t know. When we fight, we both talk about it all the time…”
I interject. “Yeah, but you two break up in strange ways. Last month, I heard Connor say something like, ‘Sadie never disagrees with me.’ And you said, ‘If you want a doormat for a girlfriend, then your cat is perfect. Have a happy life together.’ Then you slammed the door to your bedroom, and he stormed out of the house, smiling.”