Page 72 of Loved By You

“I'm so sorry. My mom is, well, she’s a lot.”

“I remember, but I got you.” His tone is reassuring. Knowing I have him in my corner will make this a little more bearable.

“Let’s get this over with.” I exhale, taking his hand and heading for the backyard where I can hear laughing.

Everyone is silent but my mother as we sit around the firepit. In true Stella style, she’s talking about herself and not asking anyone else a damn thing. Sid, who we found out is called Simon, is a strange old guy, likely old enough to be her dad, but he screams money and midlife crisis. And I get the sense they haven’t known each other very long or that their relationship will last past Monday. He’s already fallen asleep in my lawn chair as my mom spins stories of her girls’ weekend in Vegas.

“So, what are you going to do in New York?” Ali asks, thankfully ending Mom’s story about how she and her girlfriend ended up on stage at the Magic Mike show.

“Bit of this, bit of that. Sid’s gonna show me where he grew up, and he’s booked us a penthouse.” She grins and does a little wiggle, taking down the last of her beer. “I’ve never fucked in a penthouse, so I can't wait.”

“Mom, seriously,” I mutter under my breath, covering my face with my hands.

Why doesn't she have a filter?

“Oh, don’t worry, honey, old Sid here can still get his disco stick up if you get my drift. A few pops of the blue pills and he can party all night long, can’t you, baby?” she says, smacking him on the leg. He jolts awake and mumbles what I think is a “yeah baby.”

I wince, looking at everyone’s awkward stares at my mother.

“I bet you boys can make your disco sticks stay up all night long, am I right ladies?” she says staring at Gabby and Ali, who are too stunned to speak.

Dear God, kill me now.

“I need some air,” I announce.

“But, baby, you're outside,” my mom says, sounding confused.

I ignore her, heading for the house. Once inside, I stand in front of the sink, filling a glass of water, and gulp it down like I’ve just run a 10k. I can feel my chest tightening, an all too familiar sense of panic rising through my body.

Breathe, Ria, breathe, you’re okay.

I take in a deep breath, feeling myself on the edge of a panic attack, something I haven't had for a long time. A mixture of hate, anger, and hurt swirling around my head.How can she turn up and act like this? How can she not ask me how I am, how the girls are? How can she think it’s okay to talk like that in front of my friends?

Strong arms wrap around me from behind.

‘Maria, baby, Momma’s gotta make tracks. Sid wants to get to the Big Apple before midnight and he has to take his evening pill.”

She stops in the doorway, a look of satisfaction on her face.

“Looks like I’m not gonna be the only one riding tonight. You have fun, my girl.”

I can’t help it, couldn't stop it if I wanted to. I feel it bubbling up inside me, like a pan at boiling point. Years of putting up with my mom's crap, years of feeling like an option and not a priority in her life, years of her skipping in and out of my life, and now my girl's life, putting men before me; it all breaks through the surface and I explode. Slamming the glass I was holding down with such force, it shatters into hundreds of tiny fragments, scattering across the floor, just like my heart. She’s leaving me again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I bellow.

Her eyes widen, all the color draining from her face. I've never raised my voice to her, not once. But now I can't seem to care.

“Excuse me?” she asks, her tone low.

“How dare you show up at my daughter's birthday party and make it aboutyou. You show up six hours late, no phone call, no text, with your new flavor of the week, and embarrass me in front of my friends.”

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I’m watching myself finally say everything I have wanted to say to my mom for years. I can feel every limb trembling as I run my hands through my hair, tugging the strands, welcoming the burn of pain on my scalp. Squeezing my eyes closed and shaking my head, the words spill from me, my voice so loud it vibrates off the walls.

“In case you had forgotten, Mother, I’ve had one of the worst years of my life. I left my cheating asshole of a husband, and you haven't called, you haven't checked in. It’s always about you. Youonly show up when you need a place to stay, money, or want to show off your new boyfriend. You—”

“How fucking dare you speak to me like that. I’m your mother. You will show me some respect.” Her face contorts with rage like she is ready to lunge at me.

“Ha,Mother, that's a bit rich. You've never been a mother to me. You've always picked your boyfriends over me and Noah. Chose the bottle over us. Why the hell do you think he left us as soon as he turned eighteen? He wanted to get away from you!”

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