He speaks around my fingers, “You.”
Holy…
If he keeps saying things like that, I’m going to climb him in public.
“Now.” He flashes me his dimples. “About that redo.”
I’m about to kiss him when a presence cuts into our peripheral vision. I stagger backwards but don’t leave Xander’s embrace.
My mouth gapes.
The blonde hair, the elegant posture. It’s almost like seeing a ghost.
Xander’s entire body tightens as she smiles. “Hello, Xan.”
34
Xander
“Mum?”
My voice is incredulous, even to my own ears. The woman I thought I would never see in this lifetime stands in front of me.
Her hair is straight and blonde and falls to her shoulders, just as I remember. She’s wearing one of the elegant dresses fit for the upper class, and she still has a brooch over her clothes.
If I didn’t know we’d separated more than twelve years ago, I would’ve thought we saw each other yesterday.
Her face has that familiar permanent small smile and her blue almond-shaped eyes have no wrinkles surrounding them.
“How have you been, kids?” She stares between me and Kim as if this is an everyday occurrence, as if she went out for a stroll and just returned.
“You’ve grown up so much, Kim.” She smiles. “Thankfully, you don’t look like your snake of a mother.”
What the fuck?
First, my mum is here.
Second, did I mention my mum is here?
“Can I talk to Xander?” she asks Kim, whose eyes remain wide, as if she’s witnessing a ghost’s appearance and probably thinking about ghostbuster options.
Same for me.
“Uh…” She shakes her head, then squeezes my hand. “I’ll be…home if you need me.”
I don’t even have the right state of mind to nod or do anything. I’m still staring at my mum and trying to figure out if I had enough alcohol to end up with another ‘dream’.
Soft lips seal against my cheek and it’s enough to pull me out of my trance. I glance down at Kim and she smiles in the warmest, most considerate way any human would.
Her smile says words she doesn’t have to utter out loud.
I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.
I smile back, showing her the dimples she loves so much. “Go ahead, Green.”
She nods, chances one last glance at Mum, then slowly heads to her house.
The only two who remain are me and the woman who brought me into this world.
The woman who left because Dad was too much.
“Should we go inside?” She motions at our house – mine and Dad’s, not hers. Because she left it without a look back.
I don’t say anything as I stride through the door, knowing she’ll follow. The sound of her heels echoes in the empty hall.
Ahmed greets us at the entrance and stops upon seeing her.
“Hello, Ahmed. How have you been?” She smiles at him with a warmth that she used to give me.
A warmth that’s a little bit sad, a little bit forced, a little bit fake.
And I used to gobble it all down because it came from her, my mother.
“Hello.” He turns into his completely professional stance. “Can I get you anything, Xander?”
A bottle of vodka would be grand, thank you very much.
“Nothing,” I breathe out.
“A glass of wine for me,” Mum says.
“I’m afraid we have no wine.” He nods and disappears around the corner. I have no doubt that he’ll call Dad and inform him about our unexpected guest.
Before Dad comes home, Mum and I need to talk.
Shoving a hand in my pocket, I turn around and face her. She’s sitting on the sofa, both legs tucked to her side like a refined lady.
Mum was never a refined lady. She was a waitress prior to knowing Dad – and Calvin.
Dad brought her to the upper-middle-class side of the tracks and after that, she cut all contact with her extended family and switched social classes.
Her gaze sweeps over me. “You’ve become a man.”
“No thanks to you,” I say without even thinking about the words. But I guess that’s all I ever wanted to say since that day she abandoned me in the middle of the street and never looked back.
“Xander, listen to me.”
I lean against the counter and fold my arms. “I’m all ears. Let’s hear what brought you back after ghosting for twelve years. Spoiler alert, the address didn’t change.”
She thins her lips. “I see you’ve become fluent in sarcasm.”
“What can I say? Growing up with no mother made me fluent in many things. Like lying, drinking, fighting. You name it.”
“I won’t have you stand there and blame your life choices on me. You have Lewis and his money.”
Is she for real? Is there a way I can reach into my eyes and somehow blind them so I don’t see her face?
For twelve whole years, I’ve wondered what it would be like to see her again. If maybe she’d return and fill the hole Dad was never able to.
Hope is a dangerous thing; it makes you believe in things that might never exist.
I believed in Samantha Knight, and that hope is now dimming to nothing at the first conversation.
She’s not here to save me.
“Why are you here, Samantha?”
“I’m your mum and you’ll address me as such.”
“Nope. You kind of, sort of, stopped being my mum the moment you abandoned me in the streets while I was crying and calling your name.”
She stands up and I expect her to come at me or something, to try to prove her biological status, but she heads straight to the drinking cabinet Lewis always keeps at the corner of the room. She curses when she finds nothing, her fingers shaking.
“Remember that drinking problem I have?” I tilt my head to the side. “Dad banned alcohol from the house because of it.”
“He’s such an expert at throwing away good liquor.” She rubs her neck and her fingers tremble.
I reach into the side cupboard and retrieve a small bottle I keep there, then throw it her way. “I see where I got that problem from.”
She clutches the bottle and opens it with over-eager fingers. “Vodka, seriously? Don’t you have any wine?”
“Everyone picks his poison of choice, I guess.”
“Whatever.” The moment I see her gulping the liquid like she’s been in a desert, a sense of disgust hits me.
It’s so hard, I physically clutch the counter for balance.
I look like that. Just like her.
Now that I think about it, she always walked around with a cup of wine in her hand. She even mixed it with my redberry juice once, and that was my first sip of alcohol. I finished it all and was acting weird. That’s how Dad found out about it and they had a huge fight.
Then he took me to the doctor and I might have had my stomach cleaned.
Maybe that’s why Dad has been an extra dick about the drinking since the beginning of this year.
“Are you even sorry?” I ask.
She wipes the side of her mouth, but doesn’t give back the small bottle. “Sorry? For what?”