by Violet Duke
Brad leans in close to my ear. âI have other intentions, too…for your ears only.â He nips my earlobe and I nearly choke on my drink. He has a habit of making me do that.
Fran stares at me with a twinkle in her eye. She moves in so close only I can hear her words. âI like seeing you like this. I havenât seen you this happy in a long time.â
Sheâs right. I havenât been.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MY MOM IS COMING into town today, so waking up with a hangover is a given. After I take two Tylenol to calm my pounding head, Fran and I spend the morning cleaning up the apartment so I donât have to hear Mom complain.
âGabby, you need to relax. Everythingâs going to be fine. Sheâs not even gonna be here that long.â Thank goodness for Fran, sheâs always the voice of reason.
âWell, you wouldnât know it, the way weâre scavenging the apartment looking for rodent cadavers. You havenât seen any cockroaches recently, have you?â
âVery funny. So, are you going to introduce her to Brad?â
I sigh. Iâve been debating introducing Brad to Mom. It could go great, but I doubt it. âI was thinking about it. But Iâm not sure she can control herself.â
âGabby, heâs absolutely adorable, sheâll love him.â
I put my hands on my hips. âYeah, well, I donât care if she loves him or not.â
Fran crosses her arms over her chest. âWhoa. Rein it in there, chickie. Iâm on your side, remember?â
I stare at her as I make swirls in the carpet with my feet. âI know, Fran. Iâm sorry. Itâs just⦠You know how I get whenever Iâm around my mom. I become a completely different person and Iâm so uptight.â
Right on cue, as if she knows weâre talking about her, my cell phone rings. I cringe when I see her name pop up. I might as well get it over with. âHi, Mom.â
âHi, dear! Guess where I am? New York City! Right smack in the middle of fashion central. Itâs fabulous! Iâm so glad I decided to come. The couture lines are amazing. Iâve got lots of great ideas for my shop.â Take a breath, Mom. âIâve had a chance to meet some of the designers and the models. Itâs so exciting!â
âThatâs great, Mom.â I roll my eyes even though she canât see me.
âSo, Iâm going to finish up at around four oâclock, and thought I could come by the apartment so we could grab a bite to eat. Itâs really going to be the only chance Iâll have to see you. Tomorrow is a full day and then I head back home.â
âThat sounds fine, Mom.â
âGreat, so Iâll see you later.â
âI will. Bye.â
Fran looks over at me. âSo what time is she coming?â
âAround four. Where do you think we should go to eat? If itâs up to her, sheâll want to go somewhere ritzy and Iâm not up for that.â I look down at my Converse. Definitely not up for ritzy.
Fran taps her finger against her cheek. âWhat about Carmineâs on the Upper West Side?â
âPerfect. Iâll call Brad to see if he wants to come along. Do you want to call Kyle?â
âHe has to work tonight, so heâll have to miss out on the fun.â She chuckles. âIâm sure heâs all torn up about it.â
I dial Brad and wait to hear the sound of his throaty voice.
âHey, Baby.â
My heart skips a beat just hearing it. âHey!â
âWhatâs up?â
âSo do you want to meet my crazy Mom? Sheâs here and weâre going out to dinner.â
âAbsolutely. Whatâs the plan?â Wow, he actually sounds excited. I hope he feels the same way after he meets her. Ugh.
âI think weâre going to head to Carmineâs. Do you want to meet us there after work?â
âSure. That sounds good.â
âIâll text you on the way, okay?â
âOkay. I canât wait to see you.â
âMe too.â
*
AT FOUR OâCLOCK sharp, thereâs a knock at the door. I throw a couple more Tums in the air and they land in my mouth. Now Iâm ready. I fling open the door. There she is; impeccably dressed as always. Sheâs wearing a navy blue pencil skirt and a white silk blouse. Subtle gold jewelry adds to her look, and I notice she still wears those ridiculously expensive Borgezie shoes. Her makeup is perfect, right down to the waterproof mascara, and her hair is pinned up in her trademark bun with a rhinestone clip.
âHi, dear.â She hugs me gently and pats my back awkwardly, as an afterthought. Whoever invented this uncomfortable hug, Iâll never know.
âHi, Mom.â
âLet me look at you. Have you been eating? You look a little thin, dear.â
My eyes go to the heavens. âYes, Mom, Iâm eating.â
âWell, I certainly hope itâs not only that dreadful candy you canât seem to stay away from,â she says with disgust.
Letâs not talk about me. âSo, we thought weâd go to Carmineâs. Theyâve got great food and itâs relatively casual.â Thankfully, here comes Fran.
âHey, Mrs. W.â Fran walks over and gives her a big hug. My mom doesnât know what to do with herself. Sheâs not used to this kind of affection; giving it or receiving it.
âFranny, wow, you look terrific!â Nice. She looks terrific and I look emaciated.
âThanks, Mrs. W. Itâs good to see you. Howâs the fashion business?â
Ready. Set. Go.
âOh, Franny, itâs fantastic. Iâm living the dream, what can I say? Iâm loving the energy of New York; Iâm meeting so many amazing people.â
âThatâs great!â Fran sounds genuinely excited. I wish I could have that same level of enthusiasm around my mom.
âSo, letâs head out,â I chime in. And get this over with.
On the way to Carmineâs, I text Brad. I hate to expose him to my mom, but Iâm looking forward to seeing him. Fingers crossed that she can behave herself and not offend him with any of her snobbish remarks.
When we arrive at the restaurant, Bradâs already there. He flashes me his dimple the moment we walk in the door, and I want to do a lot more than just smile back. I fold my arms around his waist and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. I hear my mother clear her throat. âDear, who might this be?â
âThis would be Brad, Mom, my boyfriend. Brad, this is my mom.â
âYou havenât mentioned him before.â She sounds affronted and she just insulted Brad.
âYes, and that would be because I rarely hear from you.â
She shoots me a dirty look. I look over at Brad with an apologetic smile. He grabs my hand and squeezes. All is right with the world.
From the moment we sit down, my mother starts in on him. âSo, what do you do, Brad?â
âI own a coffee shop in Midtown.â
My mom gives me a disapproving glance. Iâd expect nothing less. She hesitates before she speaks. âThat soundsâ¦nice. What did you get your degree in?â
âBusiness Management.â
âYes, and where did you go to school? Do you have your MBA?â
I chime in. âOh my God, Mom, enough of the third degree.â
She never disappoints. Perfectly poised, but impossible to hide the shards of ice that surround her.
Fran knees me under the table and gives me a sympathetic glance.
âIâm just trying to get to know your boyfriend, dear.â
Brad continues. âI went to Pace University, and no, I donât have my MBA.â
âI see,â
my mother says, disapproval dripping from that nasty little tongue of hers. âIt must be somewhat interesting, meeting people from all walks of life.â
Someone shoot me now. Brad doesnât skip a beat, though. My superhero. âYes, it is Mrs. Willis. I get to meet all sorts of people, some pretty wonderful ones actually. Thatâs where I met your daughter.â Score.
âStill addicted to coffee, Gabby?â My mom shakes her head and turns down her nose at me. âItâs a terrible habit and so unhealthy.â
She says it like Iâm addicted to crack. Get a grip, Mom. I raise my eyes to meet Bradâs and grab his knee under the table. âYes, especially now.â God, I just want to plant my lips on his and kiss him senseless. Iâm sure my mom would appreciate that.
âSo are you enjoying being in New York, Mrs. Willis?â Leave it to Brad to save the day and change the subject. This should get her going for a good fifteen minutes.
âItâs fantastic. Thereâs so much to see, itâs hard to take it all in. Plus, Iâm so just busy with getting new fashion ideas for the store, that I donât have time for much else. Itâs a nice change from California, though. Things definitely move at much faster pace here.â She turns to me, planning her next move. I can see it on her face. âSo, Gabby. Have you managed to get a promotion yet? Itâs been almost three years, after all.â
âNot yet, Mom.â
âWell, maybe you need to start working harder. If youâre going to have a chance of moving up in the companyâ¦â
Thankfully our food comes and thereâs so much of it that it takes the pressure off the conversation for a little while. That is, until my mother opens her mouthâ¦again. âSo Brad, tell me what you like about my daughter.â
Fran chokes on her salad. Iâm turning blue and silently being rolled away by Oompa Loompas. Gah! I never shouldâve invited Brad. This is so humiliating!
âWell, Iâm not sure where to start. Itâs a pretty long list.â A man after my own heart. Oh, thatâs right, he already has it. âShe has a knack for clogging toilets.â
I burst out laughing and the spaghetti flies out of my mouth and lands on my motherâs shirt. Brilliant.
âGabby! This is a new blouse, for heavenâs sake.â Oh well, not anymore.
âActually Mrs. Willis, your daughter is incredibly special. I first noticed her sense of humor, and then everything else followed. Her thoughtfulness, the way she cares about other people, the way she appreciates life. Her overall sweetness. She has a beautiful spirit.â
Sadly, all of the things Brad listed my mother knows nothing about. My mother sighs and looks bored and completely unimpressed. Completely unfazed by the man singing her daughterâs praises.
Brad captures my chin between his fingers. Brown eyes to blue, weâre lost. He leans close to my ear and whispers. âI want to kiss you like crazy right now.â I have an incredible urge to take him in the bathroom and let him do just that. Eh, What the hell.
I look over at my mom. âCan you excuse us for a minute?â
Fran winks and Brad looks confused, but stands anyway. Grabbing his hand, I lead him towards the ladiesâ room. Now Iâm the one whoâs completely insane.
âGabby, whatâs wrong? Are you okay?â He always shows such concern for me; little does he realize I tuned my mother out in seventh grade.
When we get to the hallway, I turn my head from left to right, and then duck inside the ladiesâ room, pulling Brad with me. Itâs a single bathroom, hooray; but locking the door is essential. I push Brad up against it and crash my lips to his, plunging my tongue into his mouth as he grabs my hips and pulls me close.
He breaks the kiss, stunned and panting. âGabby, what was that for? Not that Iâm complaining, but whoa.â
âYou talking about toilets turned me on.â
He runs his hand through his shaggy hair and laughs, then takes my hand and kisses my fingers one by one.
I look up at him with apologetic eyes. âIâm sorry about my mom.â
âThereâs nothing to be sorry about. Sheâs niceâ¦in a nasty sort of way.â
I give him another quick kiss. He sure knows the way to my heart.
âIâm actually having a hard time believing youâre really her daughter. Youâre nothing like her.â
I lift up on my tippy toes to find his mouth. âYou get another kiss for that.â
We walk back out hand in hand, and I suddenly feel so much better. When we arrive at the table, Franâs smirking and my mother looks confused.
âEverything okay, dear?â
âYes, Mom, everythingâs fine.â More than fine.
My mother looks at her watch and then at me. âI hate to cut the evening short, but I have to get back to review some details for tomorrowâs events.â
âNo problem, Mom.â No problem at all.
One by one, Mom gives us all her conventional awkward hug. âIt was great seeing you, dear. Iâll chat with you soon. Brad, it was a pleasure meeting you. Franny, great to see you as always.â
We say our goodbyes and I can finally breathe again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BRADâS TRAVELING out of town for two days to meet with some people about possibly opening up another shop. Itâs the first time weâve been apart since we started dating a couple of months ago. Iâm going to miss him, a lot.
Iâve been thinking about what Brad said to me that night in Central Park, about going back to school, which is why Iâm on my way to Parsons The New School for Design on Fifth Avenue to get some brochures and meet with the program director. I did some research online and apparently they do have a terrific Master of Fine Arts program.
When I arrive, Iâm met at the front desk by a very professional looking girl wearing a brown pencil skirt, cream silk blouse, and what appear to be black Jimmy Choo heels. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail and her diamond studs are a fabulous complement. Seems appropriate, after all, this is a design school. Iâm feeling seriously underdressed in my blue blouse, skinny jeans, and blue Converse sneakers. At least Iâm color-coordinated. I take a seat and pick up a magazine called Spaces until my name is called.
All of about two minutes later; âGabrielle Willis.â
âYes, thatâs me.â
âHello, Gabrielle. Iâm Edith Hanley. Come on in.â
Making my way to her office, I trip on the hardwood floor and hear a girlish laugh from the reception desk. Thereâs absolutely nothing on the ground; I tripped over my own sneaker. What a lovely first impression.
I take a seat in one of two velvet wingback chairs that face a large glass window overlooking Fifth Avenue.
Edith takes a seat in a chair opposite me, crossing her legs and propping her notebook on her lap. Her features are sharp; she has short, cropped red hair and big blue eyes surrounded by a pair of black designer glasses. Sheâs wearing a black tailored suit with a crisp white shirt. Her outfit screams serious, but her smile is welcoming. âSo, what brings you here, Gabrielle?â
âWell, Iâm interested in learning more about the Master of Fine Arts program. I currently work at Landon & Castell as an assistant and I have my Bachelorâs in Interior Design from UC Berkeley.â
âThatâs fabulous! Then you have a bit of a head start. We have a very comprehensive program with both seminar and studio classes, as well as the opportunity for work outside of the classroom.â
âThat sounds great.â Iâm pretty excited. It feels good to be here, and I finally feel like itâs the right time for me to do this. I can probably complete the program on a part-time basis in two years.
âIâd like to give you some brochures and additional pap
erwork for you to review. Also, weâre having a program information night next Wednesday at six if youâre interested.â
âThank you, Edith, I appreciate it.â
She gives me a big smile with those huge blue eyes and pats my hand. âHereâs my business card. Just give me a call and let me know if you have any additional questions.â
âTerrific. It was great meeting you.â I shake her hand. âThanks again.â I make my way out of the building, taking my two clumsy feet with me. Once Iâm outside, I lean against the glass, look up at the sky, and smile.
*
FRAN AND I are having a girlsâ night tonight. With Brad out of town, Franâs taking a break from Kyle and spending some time with me. I stop at the corner store on the way home to pick up a giant bag of Swedish Fish and a box of those Devil Dogs Fran loves so much. Iâm excited to spend some quality time with Fran. Sheâs been with Kyle so much lately, and now with Brad and me spending all this time together, weâre like ships passing in the night.
I browse through the narrow aisles to see if they have any Twizzlers and pick up some orange juice.
âClark, put that back, we need to get going.â
Immediately, I twist my body to the voice. A frazzled woman is speaking to a little boy with dark hair and wide blue eyes, his little fingers clutching a Hersheyâs Bar. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath. Our little boy might have looked just like him. I could really use that Hersheyâs Bar right about now.
I walk back to our apartment, devouring the entire Hersheyâs Bar along the way. By the time I get to our door, Iâve got a wicked stomachache. I open the door, excited to share my goodies, but am completely unprepared for what I see. Fran is sitting on the sofa, her mascara-smeared eyes riveted to what appears to be a spot on the carpet. I call her name, but she doesnât respond.
âFran, whatâs going on? What happened?â She still doesnât look at me. If I didnât know better, Iâd think she was in a catatonic state. I shake her shoulders until she looks over at me, fresh tears forming in the green of her eyes.