Page 2 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
Hugging her back, the words sink in “Oh, shit! It’s my birthday?!” It slipped my mind completely in the chaos of the last twenty-four hours. Who forgets their own birthday?!
“Um, duh?! You’re officially twenty-eight, my Virgo baby. And here, I have your favorite spiced cideranddonuts.” She plucks the white paper bag filled with my favorite treats off the table.
“Ugh, you didn’t have to. Thank you so much. You’re seriously the best.” My voice is thick with emotion as I absorb how much Sage cares about me. Meanwhile, my mother spent last night telling me she wished I was never born, an added insult considering the day and all.
“Girl, you know I’ll always bring a pick-me-up when you need it,” she laughs.
“I know, butyouknow your kindness will always amaze me, despite its normalcy.” I sit down and grab a vanilla frosted donut with sprinkles. I take a sip of my cider and smile because it really is my favorite fall beverage.
“So, what happened, Maeren? Beginning to end, tell me everything that went down this time anddon’tdownplay it either.” Sage narrows her eyes at me, knowing how often I leave out the nastiest of details surrounding the relationship with my mother. Better just get this over with.
“Well, last night my wonderful mother asked me to come over for dinner. She goes silent for a couple of months and then pop out of the woodwork to talk to me as if she cares. But I was tired after work, so I said no. Plus, you know I don’t like going over there and she’d likely make me do the cooking, and I really didn’t want to bother.” I take a big inhale to calm my emotions before continuing, focusing on the warmth of the to-go cup clutched in my hands to stay grounded.
“I told her I was tired and maybe we’d catch up another night and she blew up on me. It was the usual routine: calling me worthless, a waste of space, a terrible child, that she’s ashamed of me and wishes she wasn’t my mom.” My eyes are downcast as I continue to explain. I’m picking at the lid of my cup for a distraction while Sage clutches her own cider and stares at me with wide eyes, fully enraptured with my story.
“So, I called her out on it. I told her that the response she gave me is why we don’t have a good relationship and that shecan’t talk to people like that. Being family doesn't give her a free pass. I went to bed crying because she always upsets me, no matter how hard I try to ignore her emotional manipulation tactics, and then I woke up to more nasty messages as a result. They were horrible. She’s always the victim, always spinning everything on me.” I finish taking yet another deep breath before biting into my donut to keep from crying. My jaw wavers anyways and I choke down the pillowy sweetness.
“Oh my God, Mae, I’m so sorry she’s dragging you under again. I wish she would just stop with the bullshit and drama. She is such a fucking bitch and I swear to God that one of these daysIwill be the one to call her out on it. And you know that won’t end pretty,” she threatens.
I laugh at the last bit because I know Sage is telling the truth. She’s one of the most bold and confrontational people I know, the polar opposite of me. A total Aries through and through.
“I know, I know. I just don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to get away from her. I don’t love her, but I feel the responsibility to be there for her, even though she never treats me well. I can’t explain it, you know? It’s like I have this familial obligation, even though it’s never been reciprocated. Part of me thinks that if I was never here, maybe my dad wouldn’t have left, and maybe my mom wouldn’t be this way. Because it used to be good, I swear it was, but ever since then it's been a living hell.” My voice cracks on the last few words.
“No. Listen to me right now. She isn’t your responsibility. None of this is your fault.” Sage cocks her head at me, pinning me with a pointed stare. “God, when am I going to convince you of that? You’re my best friend and I amso sickof you being treated like shit.”
“I know, believe me. I know how fucked up it all is. I mean, I’m twenty-eight, for fuck’s sake, and I still don’t feel like my own person. Sometimes I wish she’d just die so I could be free ofher forever. And maybe that makes me a horrible person, but it's true,” I confess to her.
“No, Mae, it doesn’t make you horrible. It makes you honest. You’ve been trapped and hurting for so long and you’d actually be at peace for once,” Sage reasons, trying to soothe my worry.
“Yeah, I guess so. Uck, okay. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say, licking the donut frosting off my fingers and finishing the last sip of my cider, regaining my composure.
“Understandable. Topic change it is.” Sage claps her hands together. “We are turning your birthday around and luckily for you, it falls on a Friday this year soooo… I was really hoping you’d let me take you out tonight,” she trails off, biting her lip. She knows I hate going out, but honestly, it could be a really good distraction for me right now. After the shit storm of last night and today, I could absolutely use a drink. Or three. It is my birthday, after all.
“Sure,” I tell her, biting back a smile because I know she’ll be so happy she didn’t have to beg. “But only if you pick me up?”
“Deal! Plus, I need a wing woman, I’m hoping to bring someone home tonight,” she proclaims with a wink.
CHAPTER THREE
MAEREN
Staringat myself in the mirror makes me feel a hell of a lot better than I did this morning. After saying goodbye to Sage, I went back home feeling a little lighter and a bit excited for this evening. I spent some time picking out the right outfit and I settled on a pair of skintight, high waisted jeans that hug all the right places. Black glittery heeled booties add a couple inches to my height, and a black bodysuit with a deep V makes my boobs look great. I pair it all with my favorite gray leather moto jacket. I am too old to not wear a coat to the bar.
I can still hear echoes of Sage chanting “Hoes don't get cold!" from our college days, but I'm freshly twenty-eight and I absolutelydoget cold. Northern Minnesota weather is brutal once the sun goes down, whatever the season.
My hair hangs down to the middle of my back in naturally loose waves. My makeup is minimal, but of course I have a red lip, a stark contrast to my pale skin. I’ll admit I look good;damn good.
It’s not often Sage can drag me out, but when I’m done looking myself over, I’m extremely ready to leave my comfort zone behind tonight. I could use the distraction and maybe afew drinks will make all my mommy problems fade away. I text Sage to let her know I’m ready and grab my purse before heading outside to wait.
We parkat a club called The White Rabbit. Once we get out of the car, Sage gets a good look at my full outfit, letting out a whistle and hollering, “Damn girl, maybeyou’llbe the one getting laid tonight.”
“Oh please, you always look amazing,” I say, blushing. And she really does. Tonight she’s in high waisted, dark wash skinny jeans that show off her Latina curves, a busty maroon top, and a black leather jacket that matches her knee-high boots. Her dark shoulder length hair is pin straight, and she’s got a full face of makeup. She’s gorgeous with tan skin and brown eyes.
“Plus, I don’t have any intention of finding a man. You know I don’t really go out of my way to meet people.” I really don’t. I’ve dated around here and there, but it’s never gone very far, just a few months at best. I’m not comfortable letting people get too close to me for obvious reasons. It’s not exactly easy to say,“Hey, by the way, I have a totally fucked up family dynamic and it’s extremely embarrassing. But don’t worry, I’m completely normal and not at all like my mentally unstable, narcissistic and abusive mom!”
I’d rather avoid that entire situation by staying mostly single. Anytime it seems like people are getting too close, I cut them off. It’s a horrible defense mechanism, I know, but I think I’d rather jump off a bridge than face the utter humiliation of any partner meeting my mom. Maybe I could just pretend she’s been deadfor a while? But that would only hold up for so long—single life, it is.
Sage pulls me out of my morbid thoughts and back to my surroundings. “Yeah, Maeren, I know, I know, but…younever know when that could change. You just might meet the love of your life one day and it will all be thanks to me dragging you to the club and straight into your true love’s awaiting arms. It’ll be a love story to tell your grandchildren one day.”
