Page 87 of Ruin The Friendship
“Lydia, wonderful,” she says, her voice chipper, as if she didn’t miss the meeting.
“Where were you?” I ask, not bothering to hide my frustration.
“Well, I figured I could make better use of my time. I just got off the phone with Mr. Harmon, who is the event coordinator at Le Château Arnaud. He would love to host the baby shower.”
“I’m sorry—what?” Again, I’m lost in the direction of this call.
“I was talking it over with your father, and we agreed that since Fletcher is so high profile, it would be best to have the shower as more of a networking event for both of you. Even if he’s not the father, your connection to him is huge. Think of the opportunities!”
“We don’t need any opportunities. I just want to celebrate my baby with my friends and family. I don’t want some big thing.”
“No, you need this. What are you going to do after your maternity leave? Go back to that job that’s going to get you nowhere?” She scoffs. “No. We’re going to get you out there. It’s the perfect opportunity. Think of how far his status can carry you!”
Nausea roils in my gut. My palms are clammy as I bracethem on the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths. I haven’t even told her Fletcher, and I are dating, or whatever it is we’re doing. It feels like way more than dating. “No. We aren’t having it at Le ChâteauWhatever.” I wave my hand in a dismissive motion. “We called you today to discuss venue options, but you didn’t answer. We can’t afford that venue, even if I wanted to have it there.”
“Fletcher can afford it,” she says nonchalantly. “I’ll get in touch with Grace. She’s the one who’s planning, right?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Perfect! I’ll give her a call.”
I swallow down all the curse words that want to fly out of my mouth. “I want you to help plan this, really, I do.”
“Great, so you agree?—”
I’m the one to interrupt her this time. “No, I don’t. I want this to be a low-key event where I can wear a sundress and slippers. I don’t want it to be at a fancy hotel and use my boyfriend as bait or for networking. We have decided to keep our relationship and family private. I don’t want this to turn into a press event. We don’t want anything to do with the press.” I realize, after the words fall from my mouth, that I've referred to Fletcher as my boyfriend, but I don’t have time to take it back or explain it to my mom.
“You make it sound so derogatory?—”
“Please. I want you to be involved, but I’m putting my foot down. This is a hard no.”
Mom sighs heavily. “Fine. I suppose I can see about canceling the venue.”
“Do it. I don’t want this to be a whole thing, Mom. I want my mom at my baby shower. But not like this. Please.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you.”
We end the call after another minute of her talkingabout nonsensical things, never asking about how the baby or I are doing, only about how her ‘friend’ got lip filler and it’s migrating. Irritation bubbles over by the time we end the call, and angry tears stream down my face.
I drive home, tears never ceasing. When I make it into our apartment, I curl up under my favorite blanket and rip open a bag of popcorn, turning on my comfort movie, the 2003 version ofPeter Pan.
As the opening plays, I burrow in, shoving handfuls of popcorn into my mouth. It’s definitely not good popcorn, at least not compared to the popcorn at the arena, so I push that bag to the side and open the next one.
I’m not sure if it’s pregnancy hormones, if I’m being dramatic, or if I’m reacting appropriately, but I’m so frustrated. It hurts that she blatantly missed today’s meeting to do something I would never want. It hurts even more knowing she treated Fletcher like a pawn in a game of chess, using his name and status to get ahead.
I take a handful of popcorn from the new bag and throw it into my mouth, chewing and testing the flavor. It’s not the same. Frustrated tears fall as I shove the bag aside, moving to the next one, then the last bag, after nothing tastes as good as the popcorn from the arena.
An irritated groan bursts from my lips as the front door opens.
39
THE B WORD
FLETCHER
Ifumble for my keys in my pocket, digging them out and unlocking the front door. I adjust the giant bag in my right arm, so it’s hidden in my jacket as I open the door. The sight that greets me stops me in my tracks. I nearly drop the popcorn as I break out into a sprint to get over to her side.
