"I think I did, too," I said.
All three of us laughed. "Okay, can we focus here?" I wanted to talk about Nick.
"I'm practicing moving stuff. Getting pretty good at it, too. I'm gonna scare the bejesus outta that cheating son-of-a-gun, Nick, you just wait."
I made an O shape with my mouth.
"What'd she say? Is she talking?"
"Oh yeah, and you're gonna love what she's saying."
"Tell her I've been keeping my eye on him and she's right. He is cheatin' on her with that new assistant of his, that little sciattona. The poison ivy and the flat tire? Yup. Those were me. Pretty darn clever too, if I do say so myself."
Oh boy. I knew Mel thought Nick was cheating but Ma's confirmation took things to a whole new level. Ma rarely called anyone a sciattona —Italian for slut, so I knew it was bad.
"Well, what're ya waiting for, Angela? Tell her."
"Hold on, Ma. Lemme think this through."
"What? What'd she say?" Mel asked.
I dunked another Oreo and swirled it around in my coffee. Yeah, I was stalling but I wasn't sure how to tell her. Plus, I was scared. Mel could get pretty angry when pushed too far and I didn't want to be on the receiving end of that.
She snapped her fingers in my face. "What did she say?" She scowled at me, so I did what anyone would do. I panicked, and blurted it out. "She said you were right. Nick is cheating." I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that."
She was silent for a moment, but then she took a deep breath and nodded. "I told you. I know a cheating rat bastard when I see one."
She was calm in the way the wind gets before a tornado and I knew eventually she'd lose it. I just hoped I could be there to help her when it happened. I filled her in on the poison ivy and the flat tire hoping it would make her feel better.
"God, I love your mother. Thank you, Fran." She took an Oreo and dunked it in her coffee.
I frowned. "Copy cat."
She shoved the entire mushy mess into her mouth, smiled and then said, "Good Lord, this is orgasmic."
"You okay?" I asked, knowing full well she wasn't.
Her nostrils flared. "My husband is having an affair."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"I am not okay."
"Ah Madone, are we gonna get this cheater or what? I got a good plan. You wanna hear it or what?"
"Yeah, Ma. We wanna hear it." I turned back to Mel who was dunking her second Oreo. "Ma's got a plan. You up for it?"
"Abso-freakin-lutely. Especially if it includes more poison ivy, like on his balls."
I cringed. "Yikes."
"My husband is cheating on me. The least he deserves is itchy balls."
What could I say to that?
I played messenger between Ma and Mel. We discussed catching him in the act but I put the kibosh on that crazy notion immediately. None of us needed to be in that position, especially Mel. Instead we decided to find whatever proof we could to give Mel a legal advantage. Actually, it was whatever proof Ma could find, though Mel and I committed to more amateurish private investigating. I had a feeling I would regret that.
Mel, who had eaten eleven dunked Oreos in record time, smiled bigger than I'd seen her smile in months. "I can't wait for this to be done," she said. "I'm so ready to move on with my life."
I figured Mel said that more to convince herself than because it was true. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" I had a funky feeling in my gut that this wasn't going to be as satisfying as Mel thought. "It might be harder than you think."
"I'm ready. Not everyone has a relationship like you and Jake. Nick and I have never been that solid."
I hadn't realized Mel compared her relationship to mine. "Jake and I aren't the perfect couple. We have our struggles, too."
"Maybe, but at least Jake doesn't drop trou for anyone but you."
She had a point there.
"Just thinking about Nick makes me want to hurl," she said.
"Yah, I was like that with your father, too," Ma said.
Excuse me?
"Ma, Dad didn't cheat on you."
"No, but he sure made me wanna hurl at times."
I shook my head. "Ma, please, that's my father you're talking about."
"All's I'm sayin' is with his travel, I was alone a lot and that don't make a marriage easy. Maybe I shoulda got me one of those sex toys like at that party. We mighta not got divorced if I did." She was silent for a second and then said, "Nah, it probably woulda happened anyway."
I shook my head again.
Mel giggled. "She's giving you a hard time, isn't she?"
I nodded. "She said my father made her want to hurl at times, too, because she was alone a lot, and that she should have had a sex toy."
She laughed. "Tell her she can borrow mine."
"Good Lord."
"Ah Madone, I wish," Ma said.
"Seriously, mother."
"What'd I do?"
I rubbed my temples. "I'm getting a migraine."
Mel laughed. "Remember a few days ago when all you wanted was to talk to your mother? How's that working for ya?"
"Ma always said, be careful what you wish for 'cause karma has a way of biting you in the butt."
"Ass. I said ass. We're all adults here, you can say ass, ya know."
I just shook my head. Sometimes being silent was best.
Mel got up to leave. "I gotta go. You'll let me know if Fran does anything, right?"
I nodded.
"I'm gonna pop on over to that little floozy's house right now and see if Nick is there," Ma said.
I held up a finger to tell my mom to wait a second, and walked Mel out to her car. "I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine." She hugged me. "I'm so glad you can hear Fran again and not just because of the Nick stuff. I know how much you missed her."
I hugged her. My heart broke for her. "Remind me of that when I'm ready to lose my mind."
"I can hear you, ya know," Ma said.
Mel got in the car. "Good luck with Fran. I think you're gonna need it."
I walked back inside and cleaned up the coffee and Oreos. If Ma was still with me, she didn't make a sound.
***
Emily burst in about an hour after I'd cleaned up the kitchen. "I'm gonna be late," she said as she zipped by me.
"Hold up there a sec, Speedy Gonzales. I need to talk to you."
She stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Mom, I'm running late."
"For what?"
"I'm like, meeting friends at the lake. I was supposed to be there like, an hour ago."
"I don't remember you talking to me about going to the lake."
Cue the hissy fit.
"Mom, it's, like, my only day off this week. Everyone's going today so, like, I can go. I told dad about it, like, last week."
Parental manipulation struck again. The rule was to come to me, not their dad, when they needed approval. He was distracted during work hours—which were usually twelve a day, and they knew they could get a yes because he wasn't really paying attention. They also knew if they got busted, whatever they'd planned was off. "So, what's the rule about that?"
Emily clenched her fists and shook them. "Mom, I already made plans. I can't just, like, change them. Everybody's already there."
"Well, I sure can. Give me your phone and I'll text everyone for you."
She hopped on her toes. "Dad said I could go. Please, Mom."
Josh walked out of the den, saw Emily's red face, and then stepped back into the den and closed the door. Smart kid.
"Have you been in the basement recently?" I asked.
Her chin sunk to her chest and she exhaled. "I haven't had a chance to clean it, Mom but I, like, promise I will when I get home tonight. Okay?"
"You need to clean it now, Emily."
"I promised everyone I'd be there, Mom. Come on. Can I please clean it, like, when I get home? Please?" She turned and headed up the
stairs.
I walked over to the bottom of the staircase and said, "Let me make this perfectly clear. You are not going anywhere today except to the basement to clean it. End of discussion."
"But Mom—"
I cut her off. "Toss me your keys, Emily."
She didn't move.
"Now, please."
She took her keys out of her purse and dropped them on the stair below her and ran into her room. "I never get to do anything," she said as she slammed her door.
I grabbed the keys from the step and stood there. My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth. A second later I felt the steam leaving my ears and raced up the stairs to her room. She'd already locked her door, so I grabbed the master key for bedroom doors from above my bedroom doorframe, unlocked the door and walked in.
"This is my room, Mother. You can't just, like, walk in."
Jake and I didn't raise her to be entitled and that attitude made my blood boil. "Your father and I own this house, therefore this room is ours. We're being gracious by allowing you to use it, but trust me, you keep up this attitude, you'll lose it."
She threw her pillow on the floor. "What's your problem? I like, didn't do anything and you're yelling at me." Her bottom lip trembled and she started to cry.
"Are you serious? You really don't think you did anything? There's pizza in the basement with mold on it, Emily. Mold. We probably have ants and rats now, thanks to you."
"Way to be dramatic, Mom." She wiped her nose on her pillow.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Emily, you're barely ever home. I'm pretty sure you'll survive if you miss one day with your friends." I sat on her bed next to her and pushed her hair off her face. "And seriously, you left the basement a wreck. I need you to go clean it."
She leaned back on her pillows, the ones she didn't throw on the floor. "Can I please go and do it, like, when I get back?"
I shook my head. "Now, please."
"Talk to her about that sex party," Ma said.
My body stiffened at the sound of my mother's voice. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to hearing and not seeing her, but I didn't dwell on it for fear I'd lose her again.
"Tell her them toys will shock her woman parts and she won't ever give you a grandbaby," Ma said.
I thought I saw a shadow near Emily's door but if I did, it was only for a second.
"Go on Ang, tell her."
I ignored her.
Emily wouldn't let it go. "Please, Mom?"
"It's that boy, I'm tellin' ya," Ma said.
I realized Ma was right. Emily had a boyfriend and hadn't told me about him. I held her hand and asked. "What's his name?"
She flinched and pulled her hand away. "What? Who?"
"The boy you're supposed to meet at the lake, Emily. What's his name?"
Her eyes dropped to the bed and she picked a hair off her comforter.
Busted.
She lifted her eyes to me, but kept her head down. "Chandler."
"That boy's gonna pop her cherry. You're not gonna let her go, are ya?" Ma asked.
I so did not need to hear that.
"I really like him, Mom. Please, can I go?"
"Are you two dating? Why haven't you told me about him?" Emily and I weren't extremely close—who's actually close to their teenage daughter? But I thought she'd at least tell me when she'd started dating someone she was serious about.
Tears pooled and dropped onto her cheeks. She wiped them away. "I didn't think you'd understand."
"Honey," I said, and snuggled up next to her. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch. "I was a teenager once too, you know. You'd be surprised at how much I understand."
She pulled away, eyes a little brighter than a few seconds before. "So I can, like, go?"
Even though the teenager in me was empathetic to her situation, I knew this boy was likely one of many, and I needed to set a precedent for acceptable behavior. The adult in me knew she was harboring some pretty serious feelings for the boy and I preferred to chain her to her bed and get a chastity belt. That Angela won. "If he really likes you, Emily, he'll understand why you can't make it today."
She pulled her knees into her chest and cried, rubbing her nose on her work pants. "He's like, not going to like me now, that's for sure. No one likes someone who’s treated like a child."
I knew we'd hit a place of no return and that nothing I said from then on would matter, so I dropped it. I stood and walked to the bedroom door. "I'm not getting into this any further. Get the basement cleaned and remember this the next time you have friends over. Hopefully you won't do it again."
She grabbed her phone and started texting. I knew if I let her keep it, she'd spend the day texting and the basement wouldn't get done so I took it from her. "Mom, like, I need to tell him I'm not coming."
"I'm sure he'll figure it out."
"But Mom, he's waiting for me."
"I'm sure he'll get distracted by the other kids there, too, Emily."
She cried harder, and shook her head.
"No one else is going, are they?"
She shook her again head and rubbed her eyes. They would be red and puffy tomorrow and she'd probably be upset about that, too.
"Well, I guess you should have considered that when you asked your dad instead of me for permission to go." I slipped the phone into my pocket. "You can have your phone back once the basement is done, and you know what I mean by done, right?"
She got up, pushed by me, and stomped down to the basement.
"This ain't good," Ma said. "You got any rubbers?"
I bowed my head and muttered, "Good Lord."
***
Emily scoured the basement, her face set in a permanent scowl the entire time. Her cleaning skills astounded me and I was amazed that something I'd taught her actually sunk in. Who knew? When she'd finished, I held out her phone and she plucked it from my hands. Her fingers pounded the touch screen in rapid motion with a desperation that bordered on pathetic. I realized at that moment my daughter was that girl. The one whose insecurity was so overwhelming she needed the acceptance of a boy to give her self-worth. I was sad for her but knew it wasn't the right time to approach the issue.
Her fingers continued to pound on the phone screen and I assumed she was texting Chandler, who'd sent several texts demanding to know where she was. He was livid she'd blown him off. I knew, because I read them. His texts were disturbing, but I'd kept my cool, and didn't text him and tell him to go screw himself like I'd wanted. "Good Lord, Emily. It's just a phone, it's not made of steel."
"He's like, super mad at me, Mom," she said.
Ma was right. Emily was going to do something I'd regret, and I had no idea how to stop it. My shoulders stiffened, and my jaw ached. "Just blame it on me. If he's got a problem with that, have him give me a call."
She rolled her eyes and I walked away.
I snuck up to my room, hid up in my closet and called for my mother. "Ma, you here?"
The air chilled and a shirt dropped from the shelf.
"Oh geez. No games, please. It's about Em. I think you're right. She's gonna get her cherry popped." I winced hearing those words from my mouth.
Another shirt dropped.
"Mother." I opened my mouth wide, hoping to relax my jaw.
"I'm here. Geesh, I was playing with Paul's cat. I pop up in front of him and it scares the bejesus outta him. He meows and hisses and then takes off running. Cracks me up every time."
I grabbed the shirts and shoved them onto the shelf. "It'd be great if you stopped dropping my clothes on the floor. Gracie's dog hair is everywhere."
"Huh?"
I pointed to the messy pile of shirts on the shelf. "The shirts. They didn't just jump from the rod themselves, you know."
"I didn't drop any shirts and I'm gettin' a little tired of you accusing me of stuff I didn't do."
I stared at the messy pile, and then picked through the hanging clothes for the empty hangers and hung everything back up. "I think you wer
e right about Em," I said.
"Of course I'm right. I've been watching that girl for months. She's ready to be deflowered, all right."
Deflowered? I guess that was a better term than cherry popped, but it still made my heart race. "I've got to talk to her."
"You've told her about the birds and the bees, right? About the honey and the buzzing and all that?"
I sat on the closet floor and rubbed my forehead. "No one uses that analogy anymore. It's a little outdated."
"Doesn't matter anyway. I told you about the birds and the bees, and you still got your cherry popped too young."
My jaw tensed. "I'm not discussing my cherry-popping with you."
Another shirt fell from the rod.
"See?" I pointed to the shirt on the floor. "You did that, didn't you?" I picked up the shirt and hung it back up.
She giggled. "Well, if you're gonna blame me, I figured I might as well have a little fun."
"Did you check on Nick or just play with Paul's cat?"
"I did what I said I'd do, geesh. Then I played with the cat."
I raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"Meh, the cheater was sittin' in his office working."
I nodded. "Well, that's good, I guess."
"Don't you worry though, Frances Richter the ghost detective is on the case. The next time he's with that floozy, I'll be there."
Frances Richter, ghost detective? Ma was getting a little too into this. "Please don't do anything I wouldn't want you to do."
"Ah Madone, you spoil all my fun."
I laughed. "I kind of need you to keep an eye on Emily too, if you don't mind."
"Oh yeah, spy on her. Been there. Done that." She snickered.
When Ma returned from the dead, Emily got involved with some friends doing drugs, so I'd asked my mother to keep an eye on her. Ma called it spying, but I called it keeping a watchful eye over a young, impressionable child. "Yeah, Ma. Spy on Emily." I piddled with the hanging clothes. "Just don't make it too obvious, okay?"
"So moody. Your brother's cat's got a better attitude than you."
"Sorry. Blame it on Emily. She's wearing me out."
"Been there, done that, too."
I nodded. I'd probably been about as dramatic as Emily at times. "Lemme know if you bust the cheater."
"You betcha."
I imagined her shimmering away like she did when I could see her. I examined the clothes hanging on the rod. If Ma was telling the truth, and she hadn't touched them, that meant someone else was doing it. "Whoever you are, you're not earning any brownie points."
Unbreakable Bonds (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 2) Page 9