3. Stella
Stella
“C ome on, Stella, you must. That man will get you between the sheets eventually.” Karma’s nagging gets on my last nerve because I think she might be right. I’ve never been good at reading men, though, so it’s hard to trust that opinion.
Staring at the black lacy lingerie she’s holding up for me to see, I shake my head. “Even if that’s true, there’s no way I’ll look good in that thing.”
Taylor scoffs as she grabs one in another style and color to hold up alongside Karma. “Maybe another color, then. You see your curves as an obstacle; he sees them as cushion because it means he can be a little rougher with you.” The two of them giggle at her description.
“Why am I friends with you two again?” They’re the epitome of beauty. Tall, gorgeous hair, skinnier than me, and filled out in all the right places. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with my body that’s hard to overcome.
Taking my hand, Taylor drags me to the back of the store, shoving me into the dressing room with both garments they picked out. “Try them on.” She slams the door shut behind me.
Hanging up both hangers, the two pieces are total opposites. One is black and sheer lace; everything will be on display. The other is a little more modest in a cream color and soft silk. The plunging neckline and short hem add their own kind of sexiness.
I try on the silk one first, leaving my panties on. I’m glad they’re at least kind of cute with little cherries dotting the material before opening the door to show the girls.
“Whoa!” Karma’s jaw drops.
“Oh yeah, he’s so eating you.” Taylor grins like she’s won some fashion award. “Get your butt in front of that mirror.”
Stepping out, I follow her direction and am caught off guard once I catch my reflection. It’s not too tight, flares where it needs to, and I kind of like the way I look.
“Now the other one!” Karma pushes me back in.
“I’m not coming out with that thing on!” I yell at them. It literally leaves nothing to the imagination.
“You have to. There are no mirrors in there,” Taylor taunts, and I curse because she’s right.
Muttering to myself as I switch them out, I open the door and immediately cover my breasts with my hands. No way they need to see my nipples. Both girls roll their eyes at me as I step up to the full-length mirror.
“He’s never going to let her leave the house once he sees her in this,” Taylor whispers to Karma from behind me.
“She needs sexier undies first.” Karma disappears, and a moment later, she returns with matching cheeky panties that also hide nothing.
“It’s too much,” I quibble, despite it hugging me like a second skin and being more flattering than I expected.
I’d likely never feel comfortable in front of a man wearing this thing, yet somehow, I’m convinced to buy both, plus more sexy panties, before we leave, each of us carrying a bag.
Checking the time, I sigh. “I’ve got to get going home now. Mom’s probably getting restless.”
Their faces fall, and they share a look, hating how much responsibility I take for my mother. But if I don’t, she’ll wind up dead in a ditch, and I don’t want that.
“Don’t be mad.” I pout with my lower lip out. They roll their eyes, and we share a laugh as we say goodbye.
The drive home isn’t far, and I stop to get us loaded subs for dinner. Since no longer buying her liquor, she’s forced to drink less, but having to spend her own money is apparently harder than continuing to spend mine.
Parking in our little bungalow‘s driveway, I’m surprised to see her showered, dressed, and sitting on the front porch as I shut the car off.
“Hi, Mom, you look nice.” She gives me a scant smile but doesn’t say anything. “I brought dinner home.” Holding up the bag, she nods this time. “You okay?” She meets my question with a frown.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice is hoarse, like she’s been screaming for days. She isn’t a smoker, so that can’t be blamed.
“I don’t know. You just seem down.” Yet this is the first time she’s showered and gotten dressed in over a week.
Swallowing, she accepts the Gatorade I hand her and chugs half of it. “I’ve missed half your life.” The words rip from a painful place in her soul. Unsure how to respond, my mouth stays shut. “I’m sorry I failed you, Stella.” Leaning into her side, my head rests on her shoulder.
“You didn’t fail, Mom. I had a roof over my head, food in my belly…the essentials. We all do what we can to survive.” She’s not faultless, but she’s not entirely to blame either. That rests on my sperm donor’s shoulders.
“He called today.” Shocked, I sit up and stare at her.
“What did he want?” It’s been a few years since we’ve heard from him.
“To tell me to tell you about their new baby and they’d like for you to visit.” Scrunching my nose, amusement finally lifts her eyes. “I figured that’d be your reaction, but you know I won’t hide his calls.”
“Thanks for telling me. If that’s the only reason he’s calling, we don’t need to talk.” I’ve never met any of his new kids. I think there are three now, I guess.
Helping her to her feet, we head inside.
“What’s in the bag?” she asks, pointing to the discreet black bag in my other hand.
“I went shopping with Karma and Taylor. They think this customer has a thing for me, and I was convinced to buy some negligées. I don’t even know if I’ll keep them. I just didn’t want to argue about it.” I’ll probably keep the panties; I really like those.
Setting the food on the counter, Mom takes a seat at the bar and begins pulling it out. “What’s he like?” she asks, unwrapping her sub.
“Tall, dark, and handsome. Older. He has some gray in his temples. His eyes are like a chocolate fountain, and they’re filled with this intensity that could eat a girl whole.” I dream about those damn eyes.
“Sounds like he might know how to show a girl a good time.”
I snort-laugh because, holy cow, she’s not normally like this.
“Probably could and has. But I don’t have that kind of experience.” My mother knows this, yet the blush still hits hard.
“He’d probably give it to you.” She hides her mischievous grin as she takes a bite of her sandwich.
“Mother!” Scolding her feels odd. Normally, I’m just trying to keep her from vomiting in her sleep. “I really doubt he wants me like that. I’m just the girl who spills food on him.”
“Never know unless you try. Besides, it’s about time you start looking at the future and doing things for yourself rather than tending to your drunk mother.” Her saddened tone echoes in the chambers of my heart.
“Mom.”
She waves her hand at me, not wanting my pity. “No. We’re not doing that. Today is one step at a time.” She won’t meet my eyes now. “There’s a meeting at the church on Second and Carlisle. Do you think you could give me a ride?”
“Of course.” This is the first time she’s asked to attend a meeting. “We could get ice cream after,” I offer.
“Maybe a walk on the beach?”
I nod enthusiastically. “I’d love that. What time is the meeting?”
“Six.”
Glancing at the clock, enough time remains for me to finish eating and change before we go.
I wrap up the other half of my dinner for later and head to my room to change into a pair of black leggings covered with daisies, a light sweater, and my Chucks.
It’s not exactly cold, but it’s not as warm as I’m used to either.
“Ready?” I grab her coat, and we leave.
Dropping her off at the church, I decide to park and walk to a coffee shop across the street, a chocolate tart and vanilla chai latte calling my name. Sitting at a table near the window, I’m able to keep an eye on the church entrance for when she’s done, and I play a game on my phone while waiting.
A knock on the glass pane startles me, and I jump in my seat. Mom stands out there with a grin on her face. I glance at the time on my phone and notice an hour has passed without realizing it. Cleaning up my garbage, I toss it before meeting her out front.
“That was fast,” I comment, and she shrugs. “Did it go okay?” I won’t push, but if she wants to talk, I’ll listen.
“I didn’t get up and speak or anything, but I took it all in, and it’s nice to know I’m not alone.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pull her in for a side hug.
“That’s great, Mom.”
We cross the street in silence to get the car and take the short drive to Woodlawn Beach. It’s usually less busy this time of day, and there’s an excellent ice cream bar at the entrance to the beach access.
“Do you remember the weekend after the hurricane when you were eight? All that sea glass we found.” She accepts her vanilla cherry Coke waffle cone while I wait for my bubble gum wafer cone.
“We tried to build the art piece like JTT from that movie. It was terrible.” Sharing a laugh as I’m handed my cone, we head to a bench just off the edge of the sand to watch the tide come in. It’s peaceful in a way we haven’t had in a long time, leaving me hopeful for Mom’s future.