“What the hell are you talking about?” I walk away from him and pick up the bottle of wine.
“That I’m the one who’ll be escortin’ you to the dinner party.”
“Oh, please,” is all I say. I refill my empty glass of wine and finish it in one big swallow. A dinner party thrown by my mother is about the last thing I want to do. Judging by the look on Tara’s face, she’d rather face an execution squad than make small talk and pretend that Alicia Taylor is mother of the year. I’m fairly certain there will be no dinner party, so it’s moot.
“That sounds nice,” Ethan says. “On behalf of me, Tara, and Vincent, we accept.”
My mother laughs with glee at Ethan’s attention. Alicia Taylor, the consummate hostess. It wouldn’t hurt so much if she was always a shitty mother, but she wasn’t. She was attentive, firm but loving. She took an interest in us, often taking us into the city for shows and museums. She has a great appreciation for the arts and instilled that in us from an early age. We were blindsided when we returned home that Wednesday only to find her gone. It was as if our entire life had been a lie. One moment the five of us were together and happy, and the next, our father was a single dad doing his best.
We didn’t realize she had left until a few hours after we got home. The three of us liked to watch TV in our parents’ bed before they got home from work. Alan would eat chips in there, which was absolutely forbidden. That day, he brought chips and fruit punch, and when he spilled the juice on the bed, I ran to the closet to get a fresh set of sheets. That’s when I noticed all Mother’s belongings were gone.
She never gave us an explanation. Not then and not now. From what I can tell, she never told our father why either. Nothing beyond being unhappy and wanting out. We could have understood if she didn’t want out from us too. We barely saw her that first year. It was three months from the day she left until we saw her again for an awkward lunch at a neighborhood restaurant. I did my best trying to hide how excited I was about seeing her. I held my breath until I saw her standing at the restaurant. Dad hugged us goodbye and left, promising to only be a phone call away if we needed him.
I remember crying and asking her to come home, but she told us she couldn’t, but would be better about seeing us. She took us shopping after lunch, and looking back, it was a cheap attempt at buying our affection to ease her guilt over her abandonment of us, but three kids who hadn’t seen their mother in months ate it up. Alan cried when she dropped us off. He didn’t want me or Tara to see him, but I did. He spent the rest of the day in his room with the door locked and refused to come down for dinner. That night, I curled into bed with my new stuffed animal and cried for hours.
It was another month until we saw her again. Dad was juggling his business and raising us on his own. Tara thought it was now her responsibility to care for us, but that only brought the three of us closer. We were an impenetrable wall. The three of us promised to always be there for each other no matter what. We promised to never have secrets from each other, and we’ve kept those promises. We’re each other’s best friends.
While Mother schmoozes Ethan about a dinner party that will likely never happen, I tune her out and pour another glass of wine for my evil stepmother. I don’t know how she did it, but she came in and loved three children who were not receptive to her. We went out of our way to shun her as best we could without our dad knowing, but she knew exactly what we were doing and never gave up on us. She’s been our evil stepmother since I was eleven and Tara thirteen. She never had any kids of her own, and it wasn’t until I was an adult that she confessed she couldn’t. Her first marriage ended after her third miscarriage, but she still came in and loved us as if we are her own.
“Darling, I think I’m going to let you three have a nice day with your mother.”
“You’re our mother, too. And you love a mani pedi and a hot stone massage more than anyone I know. You’re coming.” I give her a kiss on the forehead and rest my cheek on her shoulder.. “We’ll share an Uber.”
“Uber? I’ll arrange cars for you,” Ethan says. Mother giggles like a thirteen-year-old girl, but her smile dips when she sees me standing so close to Cheryl. “Tara’s not allowed to ride in Ubers.”
I look at my sister and wait for her to react.
“Excuse me? I’m allowed to do whatever I want, thank you very much.”
He leans in to kiss her, but she pushes him away. Undeterred, he takes her hand and pulls her close.
“Everything except get in a car with a total stranger. That’s why you have a driver.” He gently slaps her ass.
“When you get yourself a man, you go all out, don’t you, Tara?” I wink at my sister.
“Her taste has improved a lot since she met me,” Ethan says.
While everyone laughs, Colt comes closer to me. “Queens don’t ride Ubers either, darlin’.”
As I think of a smart response, the boys and Alan come running inside the house. “Daddy, I want to stay. Alan says we can stay up late.”
“He can stay,” Tara says. “We’ll be staying here tonight, so he’s more than welcome to hang out. I’ll take good care of him.”
“Let me think about it,” he says, and for some reason, it irritates me that he needs to think about it.
Evan huffs, but he runs behind Alan and Vincent, who leave to go play video games.
“Don’t you trust us?” I whisper to him. He takes my wine glass from my hand, smells it and hands it back.
“Do you want a glass, or would you prefer something stronger?” I ask, hating myself for wanting to know anything more about him.
“Mama says alcohol is the devil’s milk.” I raise both eyebrows, taken aback by the statement.
“Is that what Mama says?” I put a hand to my forehead. “Well, I do declare. What does Colt say?”
“Oh, so you do know my name. Colt says he doesn’t care for mind altering drugs of any kind.”
“That confirms it. Colt is lame.”
