Page 97 of Come to Me
Alyssa turns her attention to her napkin.
"You should warn her," I urge. "In case she doesn't realize the dangers of unprotected sex."
Alyssa stifles a laugh and squeezes my hand tighter.
The silence lasts until our server returns with drinks. Thank God. They could not be here soon enough.
I raise my drink to offer a toast. "To reunions."
They repeat it weakly and we take long sips of our respective drinks. I wink at Alyssa as I slip my lips around the straw.
She shakes her head. Apparently, my charm isn't working.
I lean towards her, much closer than is socially acceptable in a nice place like this. And I press my lips against hers, soaking in the taste of her lips, her Chapstick, her tequila.
"I missed you," I whisper so softly that only she can hear it.
She nods, a look in her eyes that says she missed me too. "I'm sorry she's here." It's a whisper, even softer than mine.
"It's not your fault. Maybe a little time alone will help."
I squeeze her hand before I get up.
She turns to her mother, her lips pressed into a thin line.
The bathroom is around a nearby corner and down a long hallway. Damn wine went straight through me. I check my phone. Sometimes, in these kinds of circumstance, Alyssa will send a stealth text. "Get me the hell out of here" or "I'm faking an emergency in twenty minutes."
Today, there's nothing. I roll my shoulders back. Maybe it's a good thing.
I'm in the hallway, about to round the corner, when I hear Alyssa.
"Mom, you're being ridiculous."
"What did you think that boy was after? He was so sweet to you--always driving you home, taking you to dances. Didn't he buy your dresses?"
"Because his family has money and ours doesn't."
"You knew he was in love with you," Barbara insists.
"If he was in love with me, he would have said so. Ryan was never shy like that."
"He's good looking. Don't you think?"
"He had his chance," Alyssa counters. "I'd rather not rehash this. It's already on TMZ."
"You're not a rock, sweetie. You need a rock. Someone dependable. Like Ryan."
Alyssa groans. "I'm with Luke. And you have no right to tell me how to live my life. Not when you haven't spoken to me in three years."
"Was it a sexual problem?"
"Mom! No. He was fine, but he was only fine."
"You know, your father was great in bed. Best sex of my life. Do you see where that got me?"
"Yes, if only you'd never decided to have a child. Maybe he'd still be around, and you wouldn't have to deal with me."
Well, fuck.
