Page 55 of Ripped & Shipped
“Yeah. I heard you.”
Usually, Mom’s a fan of everything I do on my channel. She doesn’t comment on any posts, but she follows me almost as religiously as she watchesDays of Our Lives, a soap opera she’s watched since before I was born. But I know what’s coming, and it’s not a rave review of the live I recorded at Frisch’s.
“Chris St. James?” Mom asks with the same tone of distaste she uses anytime that family’s name comes up.
Mom stops pulling weeds and looks over at me. I keep pulling weeds to avoid meeting her gaze.
“Ella Mae, what on earth would prompt you to include that young man on your platform? And now your followers are trying to get the two of you together?”
She’s not yelling. My mom can surely yell. Thankfully, there’s plenty of room between us and the next property over, so no one ever heard her lose it over the years. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if her voice carried a half-mile when she really got going. Even without raising the volume, Mom’s agitation carries clearly in her tone.
“So?” I mumble.
“So? That’s all you have to say?” She huffs. “So? You could have had anyone in that video. Heck, I would have driven to Columbus to sit with you and eat a big ol’ burger. Why him?”
“He showed up. Drake didn’t.”
“You expect me to believe you were sitting in a Frisch’s outside Columbus and that man walked in out of the blue?”
“Believe it or don’t, that’s up to you, but that’s what happened.”
She shakes her head. “You still didn’t need to put him on the camera with you. And then you wiped his face. What a moment. It looked so tender and intimate. Have you rewatched that video?”
I have. And she’s not wrong. I’m not giving any thought to what it looked like. I’m a good actress. I was lost in the moment, swimming in the emotions of being ditched—and rescued.
“I saw the look in your eyes, baby girl. You had more stars than Orion flashing at that man. The way you went on and on about his muscles. Really, Ella Mae.”
“It’s not personal, Mom. He’s eye candy. And my viewers love that stuff. Part of what I do is hype. You know how it works.”
“I know your methods, and I know you. And what I saw in your eyes wasn’t all hype. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, that man is off limits.”
“I know. It’s not like we’re actually dating. Chris came to the restaurant. I was freaking out. He stepped up in my time of need. He was great on camera. My followers and likes exploded. People are still talking about Chris a week later. He’s a gimmick. Don’t worry.”
She looks over at me. I meet her eyes this time. I hope she sees that nothing could ever happen between me and Chris.
“Okay then. If you say so.” She sighs. “Now tell me about this Drake. That looked like one fun afternoon.”
Mom and I finish up in the garden while I detail the day with Drake. We laugh at how full I was at the end of the night. We drink lemonade on the porch after we’re satisfied with our work in the yard. Then I drive back into town on a mission—to put a little space between me and my mom, yes. But also, to touch base with Riley. I’ve got something important I need to talk with her about. After my time at Mom’s, talking to Riley feels more pressing than ever.
Bean There Done That’s pretty empty when I step through the front door. Riley’s wiping tables and Madeline’s in the back. She steps out to man the register when she hears the door shut behind me. A couple sits near the front window. Jayme’s off by herself in a booth, Airpods in her ears, her face a mask of concentration as she stares at her computer screen, deep in thought. Otherwise, the cafe is empty.
“Just an ice water with lemon, please,” I tell Madeline. “I ate my way through half the town of Columbus Saturday, and I’m still feeling it.”
“I saw! How fun was that?” Madeline says.
“Super fun. Thanks for watching.”
“I love your channel, Ella Mae. You’re so engaging and positive.”
“Thanks.”
I don’t know what else to say. I’m not used to people complimenting my channel in person. Maybe there’s hope for the future generations of Bordeaux.
“I’ll get your water.”
I slip a dollar into the tip jar and walk toward Riley.
“Hey, girl.”
