Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jules
Five Weeks Later
Eli furrows his brow, looking from the plate I just set aside, and then back to me.
“What’s special about that part of it?”
“Your mom hasn’t told you?”
Blair glances up from the potatoes she’s peeling at the kitchen table. “I thought I did. I must have forgotten. In our family, there’s a tradition where boys eat a special part of a turkey on Thanksgiving when they’re seven.”
He looks at the plate again. “Okay. What part is it?”
“It’s the turkey’s penis,” I say matter-of-factly.
Cooper howls with amusement from nearby. Eli’s eyes widen in horror. I almost feel bad about pranking him. Almost. The turkey neck was practically begging me and Blair to use it as a prank prop.
“It tastes just like the rest of it,” I assure him. “Lots of protein in a turkey penis.”
He steps back from the kitchen counter. “I’m not eating that.”
Blair gives him a mock understanding look. “You have to, Eli. There are special nutrients in it.”
He cringes. “Can Coop eat half of it?”
“No!” Coop cries.
“He’ll have to when he’s seven,” I say. “This year it’s your turn.”
“Back to work, Eli,” Blair says. “Get that dip stirred.”
Our Thanksgivings are small, but fun. We always play dance music and prepare a huge feast. After we eat in the afternoon, we change into pajamas and watch movies, eating dessert when we get hungry enough.
Blair shoots me a quick, amused look as Eli returns to stirring the ranch dip he’s making. We’re planning to let him in on the joke later today, and we’ll ask him not to spoil it so we can play the same prank on his brother in two years.
“Oh! It’s my jam!” Blair cries when “Uptown Funk” starts. “Dance break!”
When someone calls for a dance break, we all have to pause what we’re doing and dance. We’re always over the top, none of us worried about being silly in front of each other.
I’m off work for the next four days, and I’m looking forward to the time with Blair and the boys, but I already miss Noel. We’ve been seeing each other as often as we can for the past five weeks.
He’s sent beautiful flowers to the office for me weekly, always signing the card “SD” for Stalker Daddy. I get giddy every time.
With our work schedule, we rarely go more than one day without seeing each other, even though we have to pretend in front of others that our relationship is professional only. The stolen glances and secret kisses only build anticipation for when we get to be together for real.
On road trips, one of us sneaks into the other’s room as soon as it’s safe, returning to our own room with just enough time to shower and leave for the next flight. We don’t always stay at hotels—sometimes the team takes off after road games for our next destination.
Those nights are the hardest for me—when Noel is one row behind me on the plane. So close, but I have to pretend I’m not dying to be next to him.
I’m a little jealous of Lucien and Talia. They get to be together all the time. So much that they don’t sit together on flights.
Noel is with his kids today. He’s excited about hosting dinner at his house for Chloe, Chase, Talia, Lucien, and Audra. His brother, Jack, is also coming with his wife and one of their kids.
Our relationship is secret. I’ll never be a traditional girlfriend to Noel. I knew that going in, but I didn’t expect it to hurt like it’s starting to.
We’ve talked about disclosing our relationship to Hudson McClain, the team owner. Noel said he doesn’t think McClain would allow Deb to fire me over it, but I’d likely be moved to a different job in the PR department, and someone else would take over my job.
I can’t do that. I love my job, and I love getting to travel with him. I work hard and my performance has never suffered, but I understand how it would look to Deb if she knew.
Even if we did decide to go public, I wouldn’t be in Noel’s life full time. He’s protective of his time with his kids because he already feels guilty about traveling so much that he doesn’t get to see Chloe and Chase much.
I can’t get mad at him for being a good dad.
I did feel wistful, though, when Talia was talking about Noel smoking a turkey and making his famous stuffing today.
She said they play board games on holidays.
He’s having a chef come to his house to help with the meal prep.
Tomorrow, Chloe and Chase will be with their mom.
And on Saturday, Noel’s taking all his kids and Lucien to find a Christmas tree they can decorate together. And the chef will make another dinner.
“There’s a lady outside,” Coop says.
We just finished our dance break, and he’s looking out a front window through the blinds.
“It’s Thanksgiving,” Blair says, getting up. “Who goes door to door on Thanksgiving?”
I’m making a cheese ball, so I wash my hands and grab a dish towel to dry them on my walk to the living room. Blair is looking out the window, her expression worrying me.
“Boys, go play in the basement,” she says. “I’ll let you know when it’s okay to come up.”
Now I’m even more worried. She looks like she’s feeling sick.
“But why?” Eli asks. “I want to dance and help Aunt Jules.”
I stand next to Blair, and when I see who’s on our front porch, my heart races nervously.
“It won’t be long,” I say. “And we’ll do an extra dance break when you come back up.”
“Who is that lady?” Coop asks.
“Boys, downstairs,” Blair says, an edge in her voice.
They go. I know why she wants them out of here immediately. Our mother has never met the boys, and hopefully she never will.
As soon as we hear the basement door close, Blair sighs heavily. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“Same as always. She wants money.” I steel myself. “Go back to the kitchen. I’ll take care of it.”
“No. We’ll do it together.”
I shake my head. “I’ve got it, B.”
She walks over to the door and unlocks it. “We do it outside, and we do it together.”
I follow her out, startled by our mother’s appearance. She’s even thinner than she was when we last saw her a few years ago, her gray hair greasy. Wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sandals, she looks out of place in snowy Cleveland.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s freezing out here.”
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I say. “We don’t want to see you.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go. The place I was staying burned down.”
“So get a job,” Blair says.
Our mother narrows her eyes at her. “I’ll be on the couch for a few days. It’s not asking much.”
My stomach turns at the thought of her being inside our home. It’s our sanctuary. The boys live in a clean, comfortable home with no worries about having food or electricity. Blair and I have made the home for them that we wish we’d had as children.
“Leave or I’ll call the police,” I say.
“You think the cops will arrest me? I’m your mother. It’s Thanksgiving.”
“You’re trespassing. I’m not giving you a dime. It’s never enough.”
She scowls. “I spent more raising you two than I’ve ever gotten. I saw you all over social media. And look at this house. You can help me.”
I hate her. She opens a bottomless pit of spite and sorrow in me. Any interaction with her takes days or weeks for me to get over.
“I could, but I won’t.” I’ve learned to be clear and concise when I communicate with her. “If you’re not off our property in two minutes, I’m calling the police.”
I open the door for Blair and she goes inside, looking shaken. Our mother lunges forward, trying to slip in after her.
Blair puts a palm on her chest and pushes her back. “No. You’re not coming in here.”
When our mother keeps fighting to get in, something shifts in Blair.
“I said no.”
She’s angry, and she forces our mother out, protecting her kids from the manipulative addict who disappointed us countless times as kids. I try to slide back inside, but our mother blocks my path with her body.
“Let me in, you fucking brats.”
We live in a nice neighborhood, and I don’t want anyone to see fighting at our front door. I close the storm door and press my back to it.
“Blair, lock the door and call the police.”
The door whooshes closed and I hear the dead bolt closing within a second.
“What the hell happened to you?” My mother snarls at me. “You want your own mother to starve to death? Or freeze? I have nothing!”
“You have what you deserve. Jails have heat and food.”
She spits in my face. “Bitch. You don’t look like you’re missing any meals.”
The spite and sorrow swirl inside me, the gathering storm making me want to scream, cry, and lash out at her all at once.
I wipe my face with my shirt sleeve, remembering my sessions with June, the therapist I worked with for two years. I get to make the life I want for myself, and I have. My mother is an addict—a sad shell of a person who uses and manipulates to fuel her habit.
I won’t engage with her. Instead, I do a breathing exercise, thinking about what’s inside my home. What she’ll never be able to touch.
Eli, with his old soul and sweet smile. Coop, who’s all energy and curiosity.
Blair, my sister and best friend. We’re a family.
We show up for each other. Blair and I promised each other when we finally got away from our mother that we’d always take care of each other.
She’ll let me know if I’m showing the same destructive patterns our mother lived in, and I’ll do the same for her.
My entire life, I’ve longed for a mother who loved me. Who cooked meals and said kind things to me. A home where I didn’t have to worry about not having water or electricity to cook the food we got from food pantries.
She backs up, and I think she’s leaving, but she goes around to the back of the house instead.
I’m not worried she’ll get in. We keep it locked up tight at all times.
Then again, I don’t trust her not to throw a rock through a window and break in. I follow her, watching as she tries the door and main-level windows.
“Fuck you, Julie!” She hurls the words at me and walks away five minutes later, leaving me shaking and doing my best to breathe deeply, even with tears streaming down my face.
Blair lets me back in the house, and she gives me a fierce hug.
“She’s not taking anything else from us, Jules. We’re having a happy fucking Thanksgiving and that’s it.”
I pull away and look at her, smiling as I wipe my cheeks. “Yes, we are.”
“I’m telling the boys a mean lady was here, but she’s gone now and we’re going back to what we were doing.”
I nod. Usually, I’m the strong one when our mother tries to contact us. But this is the first time she’s come to our home when the boys are here. Blair would do anything to protect them.
“Thanks,” I take a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m going to go clean my face up so they don’t know I was crying.”
“We’re gonna dance it off,” she says as she walks away.
I go to my bedroom and close the door, trying not to think about our mother. I can’t give her the kind of help she needs. And I know the boundaries Blair and I have set are for our protection, and for Eli’s and Coop’s.
I’m a strong, independent woman, but I want Noel. Even though we aren’t in that kind of relationship, I want him to be here. To take me aside for a hug and a pep talk.
I go into the bathroom and fix my makeup. I can give myself a pep talk. Noel is with his kids today. It’s a holiday. I’m not his girlfriend. I don’t want to be needy.
Shaking my head, I set down my makeup brush and meet my own eyes in the mirror.
I’m gaslighting myself. Having a need does not make me needy.
I have a rule for this—number eleven: if he doesn’t get hot for you when you’re in sweats, he doesn’t deserve you in Louboutins.
If it’s been at least a month and things are going well, and you’ve spent at least one night together, it’s time to let him see you unfiltered.
Emotionally, I’m in sweats and an old T-shirt with holes in it. But I’m the same woman I was in that killer green dress. It’s time for Noel to see me unfiltered.