Page 47 of On Set
“Oh, yeah. You get to meet them. They’re looking forward to it,” I reply, a sinister smile slowly spreading across my face.
“Why do I get the feeling it’s not going to be as much fun as I’m hoping it will be.”
“It’ll be fun … for them. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll pass their tests,” I state, handing him his drinks, kissing him on the cheek, and strolling out of the kitchen and back into the living room.
“Care to elaborate on that? Taylor?” he calls when I don’t answer.
I shoot him a wink as I send off one last text to the girls before I silence my phone for the night.
ME: Eli wants to meet you girls in Seattle. Make sure you don’t go easy on him. I may have forewarned him, and he appears slightly alarmed ATM. Love you guys!
Hayden replies instantly with a laughing emoji followed by a party hat.
I love my friends.
As soon asI pull in my driveway an uneasy feeling settles over me. My stomach rumbles, and not in the way it does after I’ve eaten too many tacos. My breathing increases, and the urge to vomit is ever present.
She’s here.
Her text messages said she would be, that she was waiting to talk to me. Which means absolutely nothing to me. She’s said the same thing before and disappeared off the face of the planet for weeks on end. But somehow, she knows I’m getting back in town today. Her timing is impeccable for a woman always on the go. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she got her hands on a copy of my flight itinerary.
My mother has her ways.
She knows everyone. Everyone seems to owe her a favor of some kind, and she likes to collect when it’s most convenient for her.
The garage door slowly lifts, revealing an empty space where my mother’s SUV is normally parked. I let out a sigh of relief but the tension in my neck refuses to ease. If she’s not here this very moment she will be soon. Which means I don’t have much time to figure out how I’m going to avoid her.
Pulling my suitcase behind me, I skirt the side of the house in search of sanctuary in the pool house. To collect my thoughts. To decompress. To prepare for the war ahead of me. Because when it comes to my mother, it seems like every discussion is a war when my opinion doesn’t match hers. I would run but I have nowhere to go. Not to mention I need a shower and change of clothes.
“She’ll be back in twenty minutes,” I hear Martha say as I drop my purse on the couch. She’s in my kitchen with her back to me but doesn’t miss a beat. “She expects you to be here. If you want to run, go now. I packed you a getaway bag. It’s on your bed.”
“Are you suggesting I need to—”
“Hide from your mother? Yes. She’s irate. I sent her to the spa for a massage in the hopes of calming her down before she confronted you. I have no idea what happened in the Bahamas, but she’s been storming around the house since coming home. She won’t take calls from anyone. Three lamps have suffered her wrath. The rest of the staff is terrified to even look in her direction.”
“Well, I haven’t been taking her calls, so I apologize for the lamps, and everything else.”
That’s not why she’s angry, but the last thing I want is Martha caught in the middle of the steaming pile of shit that has become my relationship with my mother.
“Taylor,” she says, finally turning to face me, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of fresh coffee. “I know you and your mother don’t see eye to eye on anything, but whatever’s going on, I’m worried. I’ve never seen her this upset. I even heard her crying the other night. So, either run now and call her later, or stay and face her. It’s your decision.”
Martha’s smile falls short as she hands me the cup of coffee.
“She wants me to quit my job because she doesn’t like the director, and I refuse to bow to her demands.”
“I thought that might be an issue when I heard who you were working for.”
“Why?”
“Because he was your father’s best friend. Because she blames him for his death.” Martha let’s out a sigh as she turns for the door before stopping and studying me for a second over her shoulder. “You look like him, you know. And you sound like him when you laugh. Even the way you furrow your brow reminds me of him.
“Your father was a good man. Kind. Generous with his time. He loved what he did and loved life. Every day was a new adventure to him. He balanced your mother out. Brought her back down to Earth. Kept her grounded and showed her what it meant to balance life and work. When he died, it felt like her entire universe shifted and she’s never recovered. Take it easy on her, Taylor. She loves you and only wants what she feels it best.”
Nodding, I watch as Martha disappears around the corner, leaving me to contemplate everything she just said.
My mother is the way she is because she lost my father. Because when he died, she lost her balance. The yin to her yang. The love of her life. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for her.
And then I came along.
A constant reminder of that pain.
No wonder she was never around. Looking at me was like a knife to the heart.
That doesn’t excuse her outrageous demands. Her lies. Her resistance to talk about my father. It certainly doesn’t mean I’m going to give in and do as she not-to-subtly requested I do. Quit my job.
Just because she doesn’t like my boss.
This is my life.
She can either accept that or not. Her choice.