3. Scarlet
THREE
SCARLET
“Shit, I’m running late,” I mutter, stroking the fur of Fefe Fluffington, my spoiled floof ball of a ferret.
She tilts her head up at me as she arches into my touch, her deep brown eyes intent on mine, almost like she understands me.
“Up you go.” I open the door to her enclosure, and she scampers inside, darting into one of her tunnels. “Be a good girl while I’m gone.”
I rush to the front door, slipping on my flip flops as I go, before hauling ass to my car.
Thankfully, there’s no traffic, and I make it to Déjà Brew with a few minutes to spare. If there’s one thing my mama hates, it’s when people keep her waiting.
Unfortunately, she rarely extends the same courtesy to others. Such is life with Stacey Armstrong.
“Hey, Mama,” I say, sliding into the booth across from her. “How have you been?” I don’t bother asking how long she’s been waiting—because if it’s more than five minutes, I’ll definitely hear about it.
She looks down at her diamond-encrusted watch and back up at me, twirling a strand of her long, bottled blonde hair absentmindedly around her finger. “I’ve been good, Sweetpea. You?”
I shrug. I don't really have any interesting updates in my life at the moment. “You know, the usual.”
Her eyes narrow as she flattens her lips. Clearly, she thinks I’m full of shit. Honestly, I wish I was. My mother has the most exciting life, and sometimes it feels like she’s disappointed with how dull mine is by comparison.
“I mean it. You know I'm boring.” I drum my fingers on the table between us. “Nothing to tell.”
She hums at me under her breath, but doesn't press, probably because she knows it’s a lost cause—I’m a lost cause.
“What about you? Are you excited for your cruise?”
She shimmies her shoulders and snaps her fingers. “More than you know.”
“Remind me again where all you're going?” I ask even though I know her itinerary like the back of my hand. She’s been looking forward to this trip for a while now, and I know she wants to discuss it—probably in great detail.
“Oh, Scarlet, we’re going to Aruba, Bonaire, Curacao, St. Lucia, and Barbados.” She practically has cartoon heart eyes as she rattles off the list of stops along the way.
“Ugh, that sounds amazing,” I sigh, more than a little jealous.
“I invited you.” She shrugs one shoulder, not looking the least bit apologetic. “I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures for you though.”
“So generous.” I smile, and she does, too. “And I know you invited me, but I couldn't very well take an entire month off work. Plus, you know Nora asked me to keep James overnight this weekend. It's her first time leaving him.”
“That friend of yours sure does plan things in advance.”
“Does she plan in advance, or are you just last minute?”
This time she smiles while she shrugs, showing off her pearly whites. “I am what I am, Sweetpea.”
“And I love all you are,” I assure her. Not that she needs it. My mom knows how much I love her. She's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Even if she does have a massive case of wanderlust and is hardly ever here now that I'm grown.
We chat for a few more minutes until our favorite server, Amelia, comes by our table. “Good afternoon, ladies. Are we sticking with the usual or are we thinking of changing it up today?”
Deja Brew’s different from any other coffee shop I’ve ever been to. It started off as a simple coffee shop with like five things on the menu, but it’s grown and grown, and now, it’s more like a restaurant, operating with table service instead of an order counter.
And don’t even get me started on the vibes—it’s all dark wood, slate tiles, mismatched furniture, and twinkle lights—cute and cozy with the absolute best drinks and baked goods imaginable.
“I’ll do a cinnamon dolce latte, please.”
She taps my order in and asks, “Have you tried our new coffee cake muffin? I think you’ll love it.”
“Mmmm, count me in.”
“You’re such an easy sale, Scar,” Mom cackles throwing her head back.
“My favorite kind of customer,” Amelia says before turning toward my mom. “And you?”
“Green tea and a Karma bowl with –”
“Light honey? You got it. These will be out shortly.”
“So what part of your cruise are you most excited for?” I ask once Amelia walks away and immediately regret it.
If there was a later-in-life-sex-positivity award, my mother would win it.
“The men, obviously.” She sighs, with a far off look on her face, almost as if she’s imagining a literal buffet of biceps and abs.
“Of course you are.” I have to repress the full-body shudder that wants to take over.
“Listen, kid. When you get to be my age, you don't take things like a man who knows what he's doing for granted. Your stepfather, God rest his soul—”
“Nope.” I cover my ears. “La-la-la-la-la. Don't want to hear it, Mama.”
She rolls her eyes. “How you can be grown and still be such a child, I'll never understand.”
I scoff, pretending to be more offended than I am. “I don't think not wanting to hear about my mother's sex life makes me a child. Boundaries exist for a reason, so how about we pretend you actually have some. Or at the very least, you respect mine.”
“Oh, Sweetpea, I don't always understand you, but I do respect you. And since you brought the subject up, when are you going to find you a nice man?”
I really did walk right into this one, I think sourly.
“Or is that one of those boundary questions I'm not allowed to ask?” She’s absolutely fucking with me. My mom, with her heart of actual gold and boundless good intentions, wouldn’t know a boundary if it walked up and slapped her in the face with a fish.
“It's fine, Mom. I'm single, not really looking to mingle.”
Okay, so I’m lying. I’d love to not be single, but with the way things are going, I will be for the foreseeable future.
Men seem to only want one thing from me, and typically it’s the same thing I want from them—a good time.
But if I’m being honest… I want more. I just haven’t met a man worth risking my heart for yet.
She glances skyward as if asking for patience. “You're not getting any younger, Scarlet.”
“Okay, slow down. I’m twenty-four.” I cross my arms and lean back against the booth.
“Knocking on thirty’s door.” Oh, good god, this woman. I love her, but…
“You know, not all women want to have kids.”
She tips her head to the side, contemplating my words. “This is true, and there's nothing wrong with not wanting kids. It takes all kinds to make the world go ’round. But I know you.” She points one ring-clad finger my way. “I know you.”
My shoulders slump under the weight of her stare. “I know you know me. You literally birthed me. But at this stage, it doesn't really matter what I do or don't want. We’ve already established, I’m single. Hell, there’s not even anyone warming my bed at the moment.”
“I’m sure you could easily find yourself a companion.” She has the audacity to waggle her perfectly sculpted brows at me.
I hold up a hand to stop her, knowing if I give her an inch, she’ll take way more than a mile. “Like I said, I’m flying solo right now, Mama. I’ll be sure to send a carrier pigeon out to sea if that changes while you’re gone.”
“What about that one fella…”
I swear my entire body turns to stone. “Not sure who you mean.”
I know exactly who she means.
“Oh, you know, your little friend’s boyfriend’s friend. The cop.”
Nora and my mom have only met a handful of times, so I don’t know when exactly they had time to conspire together about Ellis and me, or why they’re both dead set and determined we’re meant to be together. But to quote the original 90’s queen, Cher Horowitz, as if.
Obviously sent by angels, Amelia comes by with our order. “Here you girls go. Enjoy.”
I take that first sip of my delicious, cinnamon caffeinated bliss and sigh. “It's perfect, as always.”
“Let me know if I can get y'all anything else,” she calls, already on her way to another table.
Unable to wait, I break off a piece of the muffin and shove it into my mouth. “Oh my god, this is heaven.”
My mom eyes it and swipes a piece before I can stop her. “Oh yeah, that's good shit.”
“Should’ve gotten one.” I smirk, loving that I get to turn her words back on her. Sure, it’s a muffin and not a cruise, but whatever. It still feels good.
“Well, this is delicious, too.” She nods down at her bowl. “I'll get that after my cruise. You know I have to keep this body swimsuit ready.”
I laugh under my breath. “Mama, you'd look good in anything. Even a burlap sack.”
She smiles like I've just told her she’s won a million dollars. “And that's why you're my favorite daughter.”
“I'm your only daughter.”
“Semantics.”
We chat a little more about life, until she finishes her bowl and blots her lips with her napkin. “Well, I'm gonna run to the restroom and fix my lipstick. If Amelia comes by, here's my card.”
“You don't have to buy my food.”
“Scarlet, let your mother do for you,” is all she says before pushing away from the table and flitting to the bathroom.
Sure enough, the second she leaves, Amelia comes back. “Do you ladies need anything else?”
“Just the check.” I hold out Mama’s card.
“Actually…” She pauses. “Your bill’s been taken care of already.”
“Oh, wow!” I love these random acts of kindness, but they rarely ever happen to me. “That’s awesome. Can… can we take care of someone else’s bill? You know, to pay it forward.”