Page 109 of Almost Not Quite Engaged
KAT: Lucky for you, it’s all you can eat night here at the Pussy Cafe
ZANE:
I put my phone back up while Anna takes her sweet ass time to get up here. I munch on a roll and see it. I thought we’d be able to keep the moms at bay but now that I glance at my email, apparently Nan doesn’t like to be ignored. I open it, but I had no idea it would make me want to put moldy citrus under her bed.
From: MrsNancyWTaylor1962
Subject: Your behavior
Dear Kaiser:
Well, that’s fucking formal. She even used the ancient business letter colon in the salutation like it’s 1985.
It seems that you and Zane have chosen to ignore all your responsibilities. Neither of you are responding to important questions. I appreciate the photo but this is getting embarrassing. Birdie and I are confused by your actions and your inability to give us a decent timeline as to your return.
Wow. She’s unusually feisty right now.
Zane insists things are fine and if we want to know more details, we should ask you. But given your current level of communication, that’s a fool’s errand. I am very disappointed in you. Your cavalier attitude towards your family, life, and your fiancé are unforgivable. You are better than this. I know you think flowers and linens are frivolous but they matter to me. And if I matter to you then you’ll respond as soon as possible. This is fishy. I will get to the bottom of it.
Kaiser Agnes Taylor, if there’s a problem with Zane. Please fix it quickly and discreetly. You are too old to let another gentleman slip through your selfish fingers. It’s time to get a decent haircut, buy some acceptable clothes, and be the woman I raised you to be.
Love and care,
Your Mother,
Nancy Woodward Taylor
If I weren’t in France, I’d head over to the Country Club and dance naked across the 18th green just as my parents finished up on the Old Course. The woman comes out of the bathroom and speaks again as Anna opens the door.
“Come on in, everyone else has,” I say.
Anna speaks French to the woman who nods and leaves.
“Does everyone speak French?” She looks around. “Zane’s not here.” She bursts into tears.
“Come here.” I open my arms and she gets in bed with me and I hold her as she cries. I rock back and forth.
“Hey. We’re in France. And it’s gorgeous here. Eat a pastry. Shh. Who do I need to hurt?”
She pulls herself together. “We had a fight, and we never fight.”
“That’s fucked up. You should always fight. It will be okay.”
She wipes her face and shakes her head so her bouncy blonde hair shuffles to her back.
“How is your makeup still perfect?”
“Practice and really good products. Vacation.” She sits up against the headboard.
“You fought about vacation with Brad?”
“We’ve never taken one, just some weekends. The big bosses are cracking down on people not taking their saved up vacation time. We had the most amazing date night recently, so I planned a perfect Mexico vacation for the two of us.”
“So far I’m with you. And how much vacation time do you have?”
“Give or take, about 86 weeks.”
