4. Abby
Abby
“Mom, where are you putting this dish?” I’ve never seen this much food for three people before.
“Oh, you can put it anywhere on the table. Guests can grab as they go. It’s not a formal thing,” she says as she moves between the backyard and the kitchen, bringing things back and forth.
“What do you mean ‘guests’? Who’s coming? I thought it was just you, me and Daddy.” This is the first I’m hearing of guests joining us. She invited me last minute to lunch over here today, and when I arrived, it looked like she was going to feed half the neighborhood.
“Don’t be silly. You think the three of us are going to eat all of this? That’s ridiculous, Abigail,” she scoffs. “I told you; Frederick is coming over.”
I drop the cup I’m holding on the ground. Luckily, it’s only plastic.
“Abigail Morris, don’t be clumsy!” I am fuming right now, not only because my mother remains the only person to call me by my full name but the fact that she is holding onto this damn fantasy.
“Why is Freddy coming here?” I nearly scream. I cannot believe my mom invited my high school boyfriend over. This is so embarrassing and juvenile.
“Oh, he’s a lovely boy. You know how much your father and I love him.
I stopped by to see an old friend for lunch at that one place near Wilshire with that Caesar salad I love.
Well, anyway, I ran into him there, and I just had to invite him over,” she rambles, then looks at me with a quizzical look.
“What? Was I just supposed to not invite him over? Don’t be preposterous.
I told you all this the other day.” She absolutely did no such thing.
“No, Mom, you did not. And yes, you can just not invite him over… because we broke up! More than a decade ago!” I throw my arms in the air.
“Why, Mom? Why would you invite him over?” I move my hands through my hair in an attempt to calm my nerves, but today, my hair is cooperative, with no frizz to combat like when it betrayed me during the last rainy day.
“Abigail, stop fidgeting and finish getting things set at the table. And don’t be silly. Frederick is coming, and it’s final. So is his sister and her fiancé.”
If I thought the prospect of having Freddy over was daunting, seeing his sister Edith is going to be to be torture.
She was the biggest bitch in our school, and she made my life hell.
These next few hours will feel like a week.
Add to the fact that Frederick is coming over, and I’m going to want to stab myself with my silverware. Fuckety fuck.
I pull out my phone and text Marissa.
My mother has gone too far. She invited “Frederick” over for lunch without telling me first.
Marissa
Shit! And I wasn’t invited? What the hell, Collette?
That’s not even the worst part…Edith is coming!
Marissa
Oh shit! Let me tell my assistant to clear my schedule tonight. Make sure my number is under your favorites, and label me as your lawyer so they call me. Remember you get one phone call when you get arrested.
I’m so fucking pissed at my mom. She went too far.
Marissa
Your mom wasn’t known for being subtle. Keep me posted on how it goes today. I’m around if you need me.
“Abigail, can you go inside and grab those blue napkins I left on the counter please? I think they’ll be here any minute.
” She smiles at me, and I realize that even though my mom may have listened to all my cries over the phone when I called all those months ago, she didn’t really hear me.
I truly think she feels I’m cured of all the heartache now that I’ve settled into a new routine.
Little does she know my heart is not up for grabs. Honestly, the longer I’m here in California, the more I realize what a mistake I’ve made. Today is the huge nudge I needed to make me understand I can’t stay here any longer.
It’s been weeks since I spoke to Clay the night of Samara and Ashton’s wedding. That entire text and phone conversation plays on repeat in my mind. What started as a playful conversation quickly escalated, but his words are on an endless loop in my mind.
I hear the doorbell ring, and I have to control the groan that wants to escape. I cannot believe I have to endure a lunch with my sleaze of an ex-boyfriend from high school. The cherry on top will be his witch of a sister, who I thought I’d never see again.
Maybe it won’t be that bad now that we are all adults, and it will be a nice change of pace after years of hell growing up.
This is bad. Let me rephrase: This is atrociously bad .
Edith is worse than she was in high school, if that’s even possible.
She has not stopped talking about her upcoming nuptials and how lucky everyone is to be invited.
Let me add that I am not invited, and she has not just hinted at this fact—she has told me to my face I am not getting an invitation. I can’t even express the relief.
My dad has kept his mouth shut, holding back a laugh when he sees me biting my tongue to keep from screaming profanities in Edith’s face. He knows how much this girl makes my skin crawl.
“So, Frederick, what are you doing for work now?” My mother has been trying to veer the conversation toward my ex-boyfriend the entire lunch, but his sister seems to love the spotlight. “Did Abigail tell you she’s doing web design work?”
“No, she didn’t. That’s amazing. I’m working as a financial manager downtown. It’s a solid gig. Maybe I could look at your portfolio. I think my company is looking into possibly doing some revamping of their site.” Freddy looks over at me and smiles.
He’s lost a lot of the boyish charm I was attracted to when we were teenagers, but he still has that attractive way about him as he inches closer to thirty.
Unfortunately, my heart just isn’t in it like it would have been.
We never did the long-distance thing when we graduated because we knew it wouldn’t last. He stayed back to attend college down in San Diego, and I got as far away from California as I could.
He wanted to try and work things out with the distance, but I knew it just wasn’t worth it.
I think I knew I wouldn’t be back. Plus, it was just prolonging the inevitable breakup and heartache.
Add to the fact he was always checking other girls out when we were together, I knew he’d have a wondering eye the moment I was on the other side of the country.
“Yeah, just let me know. I can definitely help out. I work remotely, so it’s easy for me to hop on a video call and share my screen and present from pretty much anywhere,” I explain.
“Nonsense. You can just meet up downtown and do everything in person,” my mom chimes in, and it feels like she’s my manager more than my mother right now.
“Actually, there’s been a change of plans recently, and I’m headed back to Boston.
So, I won’t be as local as I have been lately,” I announce.
My mother gasps, while my father covers his face with his palm as if he knows this is going to cause more of a headache for him with the blowback from my mother.
This is exactly what I did when I felt suffocated by my mom the first time, and I moved to Boston.
I did this same thing when I was deciding what college I wanted to attend.
I was between one close to home and a university in Boston.
I almost chose the one here in my home state until my mom pushed me to my limits.
It feels like I’ve traveled back in time.
I’m eighteen and announcing I’m moving yet again, however, this time I already know it’s a city I already know I love.
My mother pushes too hard, and I push back.
She doesn’t give me space, and I make huge decisions that lead to grandiose announcements like these.
I was feeling suffocated, and regret was clawing at me, so here I am, opening my mouth and letting this enormous life choice come out of me.
But frankly, I think I knew this was bound to happen after Marissa spoke to me at lunch that day.
After we talked, it slapped me in the face how miserable I was by being here in California.
I really do miss the independence of Boston.
I loved that city, and I truly felt happy. The longer I’m here on the West Coast, the more the reality hits me that I want to be back in the comfort of that city and in that part of the country where I felt more at home. After this afternoon, my eyes are open, and that’s where I belong.
There are moments when my mom is kind and comforting.
That’s how she was on the phone when I would call during my fertility struggles.
She felt like a safe place. And when I first came back, that was the safe place she seemed to be.
But the longer I’ve been here, she’s become more overbearing than safe.
The way my mom made it appear she would welcome me and comfort me lasted much less than I thought it would.
Maybe a part of me hoped she would be less smothering and more of a friend in my time of need. Instead, she fell into old habits.
She did provide the comfort I needed to mend for a brief moment in time, but then I got my own place, and she began meddling in ways I didn’t expect.
It felt like high school all over again.
She started to poke and prod here and there, inserting herself into my life in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.
Then, the stunt she pulled today… it just went too far.