Page 10 of Dating the DILF
So, I do the best I can. I tell her every story I have of the two of us. I tell her every detail I can remember about her mom, no matter how small. I make sure she knows that Renee’s love of waterfalls inspired her name, but that it didn’t come close to the love she had for Lulu. On Renee’s birthday and every Mother’s Day, we head to the cemetery where we leave a card and eat cupcakes, so she has a tangible place to connect with her mom.
And every day I hope like fuck it’s enough.
“You’re right, we should go visit her.” I’ve tried to limit her time at the cemetery because, to be honest, I worry it’s too morbid when she’s so young. But maybe it’s time to rethink that. “How about we stop by the bakery and get Mom’s favorite cupcakes and then we’ll visit with her. Sound like a plan?”
“’S a good plan.” She sighs and minutes later I’m listening to her tiny rumbling snores and sending up a prayer to Renee that I don’t completely mess this parenting shit up.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,wait,” I hiss. The sound of my phone is momentarily overtaken by the thud of metal against drywall as I shoulder my way through the door. Kicking it shut behind me, I try to ignore the sting in my fingers while I juggle a pile of files, desperately trying to keep them from all falling to the ground.
I make it to the console table in my entrance and dump them down, watching them slide along the smooth wooden surface. My gym bag slips to my elbow, wrenching my shoulder, and I grimace at the burn.
Aware that my phone is about to slide over to voicemail and I don’t want to miss this call, I answer without checking the caller ID.
I really should know better.
“Hello, Charlotte Reed speaking.”
“Baby girl, you sound so professional!” My mother’s shrill voice greets me. “When did you get so grown up?”
I pull the phone away from my ear and double-check the screen. Yep, definitelynotthe call I was expecting about the lawsuit I am currently working my ass off to settle.
“Hi, Mom, how are you?” I ask reluctantly, already knowing I don’t have time for whatever self-inflicted drama is causing havoc in her life right now.
“Good, baby, I’m good. I spoke to your grandparents today,” she starts, her voice suspiciously happy. “They seem to be loving it in Florida.”
“They are,” I confirm, my hackles well and truly raised.
“Grandma mentioned that you snagged a huge client for the firm. I’m so proud of you, Charlie.”
Tension tightens my shoulders and, despite the pride I feel about bringing Preston Pharmaceuticals into the fold at Harris & Erickson, I have very little desire to discuss this with my mother.
“I did.” My response is curt, maybe even rude, but Iknowmy mother. She uses my happiness against me, taking each moment of my joy and manipulating it to get what she wants. As though every one of my good moods or victories is a free pass for her to demand something from me.
“So, listen, I’m a little short on rent this month and I was wondering if I could borrow a few hundred dollars to tide me over until I get paid.”
And there it is.
“I gave you money a couple of months ago, Mom. I can’t afford to keep doing this all the time.”
“This is the last time, baby, I swear. It’s just been a rough month, a lot of unexpected bills, but I promise this is it.” She’s doing her best to sound sincere, but it’s forced and there is a hint of desperation that hangs heavy in the air.
My throat constricts as I listen to her promise.This is the last time, baby, I swear.It’s the same promise I’ve been listening to since I got my first job at fourteen, and I’m so tired of it. So fucking tired of being disappointed and let down.
Too tired to fight it anymore.
My eyes roam over the wall in front of me, staring unseeingly at the hideous floral wallpaper I want to get rid of, and my fingers play with the hem of my jacket. I’m about to agree, to tell her I’ll send the money through, but my mother always was impatient, and she takes my moment of silence as a refusal.
“You owe me, Charlotte.” All warmth has evaporated from her voice and all that is left is recrimination. “All that money you cost me while you were growing up. Clothes and food and everything else you wanted that I couldn’t afford. I made sure you had it all, the least you can do is help me out now.” Her voice drops slightly, as though she has moved the phone away from her mouth. “You always were a selfish little bitch.”
The words pierce my chest before they penetrate my conscious thought, but as soon as they do, the familiar burn behind my eyes kicks in.
“Bye, Mom.” I hang up the phone and take a few deep, steadying breaths before I pull up my banking app and transfer her the money.
My legs are aching, and I am almost running to try and keep up with my mom. It’s only a short walk from the bus stop to Grandma and Grandpa’s place but I’m so tired and it’s so hot. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back into my butt and it’s so, so gross.
I had such a good time at the carnival today, though. I atesomuch bad food and went on all the rides. I didn’t think Mommy was going to let me go on the roller coaster, but she said I was big enough now. It was so much fun!
“Mom, wait up.” I run to catch up with her, but she keeps going, not slowing down at all.
