31. Riley
Cole takesme and Archie to the movies on Sunday, which is a welcome treat. Technically, I’m off the clock, but Archie begged me to come with them to the theater—and Cole seemed eager to bring me.
Archie sits between us in the theater, eyes wide as he takes in the brightly-colored, animated spectacle. Despite the distance between us, Cole keeps stealing glances over at me; we make eye contact every few minutes.
I can’t help but wonder where his hands might wander if we were sitting next to each other. It’s probably for the best that we aren’t. I don’t know if I could trust myself to be good.
This man is pure sex, unadulterated and addictive.
After the movie ends, Archie sits in his seat with his mouth open slightly, dazed. I remember that feeling—being a little kid and seeing a movie up on a huge screen, surrounded by the music. I help him up, and he blinks, getting his bearings.
Cole leads us out of the theater, and as we troop out into the hallway, I lean forward to tease him. “You know, I’m surprised people as rich as you go to the movies with us regular folks. Don’t you have a home theater, or a private cinema, or something?”
Cole glances back at me with an arch look. “Of course,” he says. “But unfortunately, they weren’t playing Shelby the Tortoise at the arthouse.”
I giggle, and Archie pipes up indignantly, “It’s Sheldon the Tortoise!”
“Gosh, Cole,” I say, shaking my head with a melodramatic sigh. “It’s like you didn’t even watch the—”
Before I can finish my sentence, a voice cuts me off. A familiar voice. Calling my name across the lobby.
“Riley!”
My blood runs cold. I know that voice better than almost any voice in the world.
It’s my mother.
I turn, and there she is, standing on the other side of the lobby. Since I last saw her, few things have changed about her appearance. Her hair is bleached, a little longer than it was in our last encounter, but that’s about it.
My mother has reached out periodically through the years, but I always rebuff her attempts. It’s not because I’m not interested in reconciliation, or because I’m simply holding a grudge. It’s just that, at this point, I know better.
Every time my mom comes calling, trouble is sure to follow. She’s always looking for something, trying to demand something of me. It’s never about mending our relationship. It’s almost always about money.
Maybe she’ll leave me alone. Maybe this is a coincidence, and she’ll just wave, and—
No such luck. She’s on her way over, a determined look on her face.
Frantically, I run through all of my options as my mother approaches. I could turn and run, but that might cause a bit of a scene, and I wouldn’t be able to explain things to Cole. It would probably be a bad look in front of Archie, too.
I don’t have time to figure anything else out, so I just stand, frozen, as she marches right up to me.
“Riley! What the hell is going on with you?” There’s a harsh note to her voice, like she’s come over to chastise me.
I cringe away from her, mortified. “What do you want? I’m out right now—”
“You’re clearly doing well for yourself,” my mother says, pulling out a cell phone and showing me a picture—the photograph Olivia sent me this morning, me in that beautiful gown at the auction. “Attending some kind of fancy art gala with a rich man and expensive clothes.”
Embarrassed, I glance out of the corner of my eye at Cole, standing a few paces ahead of me with Archie by his side. “Listen, I have to—”
“You can go to ritzy parties like this, but you don’t have enough to help your own mother?” There’s a ringing accusation in her voice. “Your own flesh and blood? You turn me down every time I need help—”
“Mom,” I say quickly, “keep your voice down.”
“Who’s that kid?” my mom demands. She curls her lip. “I’ve seen you too recently for that to be yours. What are you fucking playing at?”
“Please don’t swear,” I say, looking over again in desperation; hopefully, Archie didn’t hear. “What are you doing here?”
“I need money,” she grouses. “Just like I always have and always will. That’s how it is on this bitch of an earth, isn’t it?” She snaps her fingers in front of me, demanding. “And clearly, you have it. So let’s see it.”
Humiliation courses through me. Cole is nearby enough that he can almost certainly hear every word.
“I was a guest at that auction,” I hiss at my mother, dropping my voice so that Cole and Archie can’t pick up what I’m saying. “I’m not doing that well for myself, to be honest. I’m a nanny.”
My mother laughs shrilly. “Oh, give me a break, you ungrateful little—”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I say, cutting her off. “You lost parental rights. I don’t have to see you, and I certainly don’t want to.”
Even as I say it, I feel a pang of sadness in my chest. It’s true that I don’t want to see my mother, but often, I wish that things were different. I wish that she was someone I wanted in my life.
She goes silent, her nostrils flaring in rage.
“And I’ve told you this before,” I add. I fold my arms, trying to be firm. “I want you to go. Leave me alone.”
My mother huffs, taking a step back. “Okay, Riley. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes. Her tone is biting. “You’re so grown-up now. You don’t care about me at all. Never mind that you wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for me.”
“Mom, leave.”
She turns her back on me, shooting a last cold glance over her shoulder. For a brief moment, her gaze strays to Cole and Archie, and her eyes narrow. Then she storms off.
I take a few quick breaths to calm myself; my hands are shaking. Run-ins with my mother are rarely this public, nor this embarrassing. Several people in the lobby are staring.
As we drive home, Cole doesn’t say a single word. Archie is quiet, too, still in his post-movie trance. He stares out of the window, maybe imagining animated tortoises outside along the sidewalk.
I feel as though there’s a hand on my throat. I should say something to Cole. I should explain myself. My personal life came crashing into his, and I feel like I owe him… something. An apology, maybe.
But I can’t bring myself to speak.
When we get back home, Archie runs inside, going straight to his box of toys to look for a train set so that he can recreate a scene from Sheldon the Tortoise, which he has now decided is his favorite movie of all time.
Cole heads for the kitchen, and sensing a conversation brewing, I follow him. He sets the kettle to boil and busies himself getting cups of tea ready for the two of us. After a minute or so, without looking at me, he asks casually, “So. What was all of that in the lobby?”
“That was my mom,” I say reluctantly.
“So I gathered.”
I heave a sigh. “When I told you about my history with my mom, I didn’t tell you everything. There have been some… run-ins between us.”
“Run-ins like that?”
“Pretty much.”
The water boils, and the electric kettle shuts off. Cole pours each of us a cup of steaming tea—peppermint. I breathe in the sweet, sharp scent, and it soothes my rattled nerves. I wrap my hands around the cup, letting it steep.
“My mom tries to reach out periodically,” I admit. “It always ends badly. In the early days, I used to try to let her in a little bit more, but I’ve learned that it’s just not worth it. She always wants something. It’s completely transactional, and she’s never changed, even if she says she has.”
“And she asks you for money every time?”
“Pretty much,” I say, nodding. “I’m worried that she won’t leave me alone this time now that she thinks she stands to gain something. She thinks that I have money now.” I look at the countertop as I finish speaking, unable to meet Cole’s gaze.
I’m expecting him to chew me out, but he doesn’t. He maintains a few seconds of thoughtful silence, then says, “Well, if she keeps bothering you, don’t worry. I’ll help you deal with it.”
I jerk my head up, surprised. “I—are you sure? It really isn’t your problem, and—”
“I’m sure.”
I blink, grateful. “I won’t let it interfere with my work,” I promise. “Or—if she gets persistent, I can quit. I don’t want her to be around Archie.”
“You’re not quitting,” he tells me firmly. He lifts his teacup and takes a sip, and I do the same, mirroring him. “That’s not why I’m doing this—not why I offered to help. I just want to help you. It’s that simple.”
I open my mouth to reply, but no words come to me.
“Come on.” He gives me a nod, walking over to the living room. “Let’s check up on the train situation, shall we?”