Chapter 30 Misty #2
I am so glad I work customer service at the café because that is the only thing keeping the eye roll off my face.
“This is going to be a disaster. Oh, we should have started earlier.” My mom paces, scrolling through her phone as she does that thing she always does where she spirals out.
“I’m never going to hear the end of it from Pamela and Kathy.
They’re going to run to Ryan and tell him I’m a horrible mother to Brielle, that I’m ostracizing her, and he’s going to hate me and divorce me.
You know how much he loves his daughter. ”
“Yep. I do know that. Painfully so, in fact.”
“If you can’t be helpful, then just go back outside and flirt with that brute you brought back. I swear, I have to do everything myself here.” The baby is crying, but Rachel has tunnel vision and is ignoring him.
I snatch him up. “Mom,” I snap, trying and failing not to scream at her and join in with the baby.
“You do not always do ‘everything yourself.’ I am the one who plans the parties. I am the one who runs the household. I made sure Lucy had a new uniform and her physical for hockey. I make sure Mason has the snacks he wants always stocked. I made sure Jaxon’s homework gets done and Noah has an AirTag on his favorite toy so that we can find it when he inevitably loses it at show-and-tell.
I’m the one who always had to remind you to pay the electrical bill. ”
“Right, throw that in my face. You think I’m a terrible mom.”
“You’re not a terrible mom; you just can’t plan anything.
No judgment. You have other skills. But you have to admit it’s wild that you think I can’t plan a surprise wedding.
Me, of all people. I can plan a wedding with my eyes closed.
Shit, I planned my own wedding while working and managed Austen’s career and this household. ”
My mom looks so hurt.
I take a deep breath.
The baby has stopped crying because he’s so startled at my outburst. I pat his back, bouncing him on my hip.
“Look, Mom, I think that having Ryan’s family around makes you feel insecure and makes you lash out.
It triggers you. You drink too much—no judgment, I think we all do—and they wind you up. Then we get in these blowups.”
Rachel is glaring at me, petulant and angry like she’s the teenager and I’m the parent and she’s having to suffer a lecture.
Here’s the thing. My mom is sociable. She likes to go out.
She always wants to come in my room and lie on my bed so we can “talk” and “connect,” but the talk is superficial—What’s the gossip?
What boys do you like? Did you buy anything new at the store?
What do you think about the latest celebrity news?
Deep, introspective, emotional conversations with my mom?
No way. Instant shutdown.
“Look, Mom, why don’t I make you a drink?”
“God, for someone not related to the Wests, you sure are as judgmental as Pamela. Is that what hanging around Talbot is doing to you? You just treat people like crap now?”
“Mom…”
She grabs the baby from me, and he starts crying as she stomps outside.
I take the brie bites out of the oven that’s been set to warm and shove a fistful of buttery, cheesy pastry into my mouth. “Wine,” I mumble. “The wine is outside.”
“Misty knows I sleep in the…” Talbot’s laughing with a crowd of Ryan’s breathless female relatives. He’s shirtless, like the cold doesn’t matter, his T-shirt tucked in his back pocket.
I ladle some mulled wine into a mug and glug it down.
Talbot, still joking with Ryan’s rowdy relatives, draws me to him, puts his arm around me, and nestles me against him. “You’re nice and warm.” He kisses the top of my hair.
I shiver at his cold hand under my shirt.
He adds a splash of rum to my drink. “You look like you need that.”
“What do you mean he’s not spending the night?” Sienna demands.
“My mom completely blew her top tonight. He can’t stay here, not with all of Ryan’s relatives in town. It will put her over the edge. GrandPam has completely gotten into her head.”
“Why didn’t you make him take you to the secret lair or the bat cave or wherever he stashes the bodies of his victims?”
“I think he just leaves them where they fall… Oh, that’s awful,” I moan. “He’s corrupting me.”
“I’ll say, if you’re having sex in a car in the middle of a parking lot.”
“It was dark outside!” I cry.
“Thank god Kathy didn’t see. You wouldn’t have any kind of Christmas.” Sienna snickers.
I stare out the window. Usually, I like being in my room with my best friend, flipping through magazines, music playing from my laptop, snacks and wine out while I plan my dream Christmas wedding. Well, now its Brielle’s dream Christmas wedding.
But for some reason, I just want to go out.
Talbot: Have a change of heart yet?
Talbot: Where’s the girl who took a hit and shook it off like it was nothing?
“A proposal?” Sienna looks over my shoulder.
“No, he’s trying to get me to close the contract.” I lower my voice.
Talbot: If you say yes, we can still make it to Colorado.
Talbot: You, me, snowboarding in the morning, hot tub and sex at night.
Talbot: I’ll feed you things dipped in cheese. On a stick.
Misty: Including your cock.
Talbot: Hell yeah. I’ll take one for the team.
Misty: Dick du fromage.
Talbot: Real hockey players come in French.
I take a big swallow of my wine. “Is it bad that a part of me really wants to go to Colorado with him, just the two of us on a romantic getaway? I’ve never been on a romantic getaway.”
“You’ve barely been on any sort of getaway. We couldn’t even go to the beach for your bachelorette.”
“It’s so pricy.”
“Ryan offered to pay for it.”
“He was just being nice. He didn’t mean it.”
Sienna makes a frustrated noise. We’ve had this argument before. “You don’t even go on the family vacations he invites you on.”
“I know he just wants to spend time with his real kids.”
“He seemed a little sad you didn’t at least take him up on the bachelorette.”
“Pamela would have never let my mom hear the end of it. Not to mention Brielle. I’d have to take her. No way. We had fun at bowling.”
“Did we?”
“I’m not sure if I’m the type to take a romantic getaway,” I admit to Sienna, pivoting back to the topic at hand.
“Ryan takes your mom all the time.”
“My mom insists that if a guy likes you, he’ll take you to nice places. I thought it was only for girls like her. Austen never took me anywhere. Shoot, he never even let me come to the NHL awards.”
“That was the final red flag on top of the flaming pile of red flags for me, FYI,” Sienna says.
“Now Talbot wants to take me on a romantic getaway.”
“You deserve to be wine and dined. Let him dump Austen over a bridge and go!”
“I can’t. My mom will freak out if the wedding doesn’t happen.”
Misty: I can’t go to Colorado. I have to plan Christmas and a wedding.
Talbot: *Photo of a luxury chateau*
“Do you think Brielle would like the raspberry-champagne cake or the caramel-strawberry? She’s got both pinned on her Pinterest.”
“Does it matter? She’s not going to eat either of them.” Sienna sighs.
“Maybe the raspberry champagne. I’m not sure about the way this caramel drizzle is done on this cake, and I don’t want to wing it and then have it be a disaster.”
Sienna blinks at me. “Do not tell me you’re making Brielle’s wedding cake. Girlllll…”
“No one is able to make a cake for Christmas Eve. She has to have a nice wedding.” My protests sound weak.
Sienna sits up, sending Cocoa snorting and rolling over onto her other side. “You have a hot, sexy guy texting you, wanting to take you on a romantic getaway to the mountains, and you’re still planning your cheating stepsister’s wedding? Brielle the bitch stole Austen from you.”
I sigh. “Maybe Austen and I weren’t exactly the most compatible people.”
“Oh my god, he did it.” Sienna sits back on my bed. “That black-haired beauty did it.”
“Talbot didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, he did. This is the first time I have ever, since you and I have known each other, heard you say anything other than Austen is your one true love. The torch you carry for him is sputtering. It’s about to go out.”
“It might be flickering slightly…”
Talbot: OK, no travel dates. We’re not at that part of our fake relationship.
Talbot: Let me take you on a date tomorrow night. A real one. A fancy one.
Misty: We had one in the Christmas market.
Talbot: That was a spy op.
Talbot: Spy on Austen, and give GrandPam a heart attack.
Misty: I don’t really go to fancy places.
Talbot: Tits and ass like that? Such a shame.
Talbot: Wear something sexy. I’m coming by at 7:15.
Sienna rummages through my wardrobe. “Why do you have an apocalyptic supply of yarn in here? Where are your clothes? I bought you some nice clothes for your birthday that you can wear on your date.”
“I didn’t actually say I was going.”
Talbot: I’ll bring you flowers.
Talbot: I can bring you jewelry too, but most of what I have is stolen off of corpses, so I’m not sure if that fits with your delicate sensibilities.
Misty: I’m rethinking our fake relationship.
Misty: And you better be joking.
Talbot: Cross my heart, hope Austen dies.
I don’t know. I need to get this wedding under control. My mom is so stressed. I should give her an update, make her feel included. I sigh and stare out the window at the snow falling softly.
The planner spreadsheet freak in me is not feeling it. “What do you think he’s planning?” I muse.
“Romantic candlelight dinner for two? Bondage sex in the bat cave?” Sienna holds up a black dress. “This goes with either scenario, by the way. Now, drink some more wine. You need another wax. And a refresher lesson on walking in heels.”