Chapter 6: Mother

Late notice. Past due. Eviction notice. Final notice. These mails had been sitting on my desk for long enough to get kicked out, and I somehow found the courage to ignore all of it for my baby.

Even though she had poured all her attention elsewhere but me.

Now that the party was over, she stood by the door of my so-called office without any real purpose, peeping inside like a kid who knew she’d messed up but didn’t know how bad it was yet.

I lifted my eyes and immediately found her there, already freshened up, doing that nasty nibbling on her nails habit whenever she was nervous.

“Well, good morning, sixteen-year-old blondie. How was your sleep?” I asked, casually sliding the papers out of sight.

“Had a beautiful dream,” she replied, her tone opposing with the word she chose. “But I don’t think it’s something you want to hear.”

My brows arched instinctively. “And why is that?”

“You and Dad remarried,” she said, no warning at all, making me choke on my own spit.

“What do you mean by 'beautiful'?” I fanned myself dramatically. “That was a total nightmare, Addie.”

She pouted and drifted closer to my desk, the one I’d scored from a neighborhood garage sale. “Dad said he’s going to stay here in Brooklyn for quite a bit. He said he’s got some projects near here.”

I pretended to be busy with my laptop, tapping keys that meant absolutely nothing. “And what am I supposed to do with that information?”

“He misses you, Mom.”

I shot her a look. “Honey, when we were apart for three days because you had to go camping for school, I called you nonstop, texted to check in, worried myself sick. That’s what you call 'missing someone',” I lectured, hoping it would sink in. “Ten years of no communication, then suddenly showing up after thousands of dating rumors, pregnancy scares, and alleged scandals? I don’t think so.”

Her head shrank between her shoulders.

I knew she’d been craving a father. That was the whole reason I’d been searching for the right man, someone who could actually be there for her alongside me.

But she just couldn’t let go of Ricochet, no matter how many times he’d failed her.

What had she even gotten from him over the past decade? Useless cards? Expensive gifts sent like apologies? Hell, he’d once sent her a freaking bottle of champagne for her thirteenth birthday.

“Look, Addie, I know what you’re feeling right now. Trust me, I understand,” I said softly, my voice gentler even though my chest stayed guarded. “Your father was… well, he was a good man. He knew how to follow rules, how to obey orders. But that was just it. You deserve someone better than a man who only knows how to feed you with money.”

I looked straight into her eyes that refused to see me.

Every time I did, I was reminded of how green Ricochet’s eyes were.

She inherited all of her beautiful features from her father. The forest-green eyes framed by thick lashes, the natural flush in her cheeks, the way a single expression from her could twist my emotions without even trying.

“I just thought that maybe…” she muttered. “Maybe I could experience having a whole family, like my friends do.” Her head was so low her chin nearly stabbed into her chest.

“We already talked about this," I sighed.

“Then you didn’t want Dad because of what exactly, Mom?” she suddenly blurted out. “Because of me? The mistake?”

Her eyes widened as she realized words.

“I—I’m sorry.” She bit down on her lip.

I paused. “Yes,” I said finally. “You are a mistake. Yes, I was young and stupid when I had you. Your father only married me because he planted you inside me”

I swallowed.

“But out of all the stupid choices I’ve ever made, the only beautiful thing that came out of them… was you.”

I stood from my chair and moved to stand in front of her.

Her nose slowly turned red, her eyes turned glassy.

“If he is really serious about being a father to you, then he can see you,” I uttered quietly. “But always come back to me afterward. Okay?" I reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But this time, with my permission.”

She pouted, sniffling. “Are you mad at me for inviting Dad to the party?” she asked softly.

I shrugged. “Disappointed. Slightly deranged when I found out.” Another small sigh escaped me. “But your happiness matters more than my pride.”

Her eyes lit up. “What if my happiness is you and Dad getting back together?”

I grunted, already hating where this was going.

Yes, Ricochet stopped bothering me after I slapped him. Yes, it was annoyingly kind of him to return my car early this morning.

But no No, no, and a thousand more no’s.

“He said he wants to talk to you,” she added, her hopeful eyes pleading as she handed me an autumn-brown calling card.

“Addie,” I muttered tiredly, “don’t let your father use you to get to me. He only sees people as bridges or targets to hit.” I took the card anyway, just to stop her from pushing it. “Whatever he promised you, it isn’t real.”

“But… I want you to talk to him. Maybe you could give him a chance. I think Dad was telling me the truth when he said he wants us to be a family again,” she mumbled softly, too trusting and naive for this world.

I let out a long, slow breath, sliding my purse and the stack of mail from the table into my hands. I faced her again, the weight of her hope was killing me.

“Men are convincing. They have flowery mouths, they spit lies,” I lectured, shaking my head. “I can’t trust a single word your father says.”

“But—”

“No more buts, Adriana. Please.” I gripped my purse tighter, feeling the leather press into my fingers. “I’ve got things to do. Your grandma will be here any second. I want you to behave, okay? Be good.”

“Where are you going? I thought you said we’d spend the whole day bonding,” she uttered, disappointment threading through her words.

“Honey, I know. It’ll only take a few minutes. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Was it the bank?”

I froze mid-step, pivoting to look at her. Surprise shot through me. “How did you know that? Did you go through my things? Adriana, how many times do I have to tell you not to snoop?”

“I didn’t,” she said defensively, shrugging her small shoulders. “You asked me to get your phone from your office the other day. I just… accidentally saw it.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead, letting out a quiet grunt. “Alright, fine. Just… let me handle this.”

“Maybe we should ask Dad for help?” she muttered timidly, almost whispering.

“No.” My refusal was quick. “No matter what happens, we never ask for his help.”

“But... I already told him about it,” she said honestly, and I froze, stunned, and couldn't react.

And before I could even process it, the doorbell rang, followed by Mom’s voice. “Grandma’s here!” she practically sang it like she was auditioning for an opera.

“We’re going to talk about this later,” I told Adriana, but she didn’t respond.

I hurried to the door and froze. Mom was standing there in full glam, like she had just stepped out of an ’80s-themed party, not come to babysit my daughter.

“There she is,” she chuckled, sweeping me into a hug. “What a beautiful day to see a beautiful face. And oh! Your car towed finally being towed after weeks of warning.” Her gaze flicked outside, and my stomach sank as I saw the tow truck already hauling my car onto the street.

“What?!” I exclaimed, lunging toward it, but Mom caught me and yanked me back.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it,” she motherly chided. “The bank can do this, and there’s nothing you can do except pay them.”

“Unbelievable!” I smacked my forehead, feeling the heat of frustration prickling my skin. "I told them I was going to pay them this week."

She jingled her keys in front of my face. “Here, use mine. Let’s settle this once you're back home."

“The Hello Kitty trailer?” I asked, incredulous.

“Why? Do you have something against my lovely RV?” She arched an eyebrow, perfectly aware of how ridiculous it looked.

I groaned but took the keys. “Fine. I won’t be long.”

I drove straight to the bank, only to be greeted by yet another foreclosure letter and a polite, but utterly useless, apology from the bank agent.

Lucky. How lucky was I.

“Dang it!” I groaned, kicking a stone on the pavement but my foot caught it, and I nearly came face-to-face with the concrete.

I caught myself at the last second, regaining my balance, but not before feeling like an idiot stumbling in broad daylight.

Pulling my blouse down, I lifted my chin, forcing a calm mask over my frustration, and returned to Mom’s bubblegum-pink RV.

“Now what the hell am I gonna do?” I muttered under my breath. As if the universe had decided to hand me a hint, my eyes fell on the cursed business card Adriana gave me—lying on the dashboard.

I grabbed it, reading the name aloud.

His help.

I shook my head. “Nope.” I ripped it in half and tossed it in the trash.

There had to be other ways. I could try selling Mom’s RV, maybe even one of my kidneys. But not him.

“What the heck?” I grumbled, squinting at the sleek Benz parked outside my house—well, not mine anymore.

And as soon as I entered the door, an unwelcome, ridiculously handsome face greeted me from the second-hand couch, lounging as if he was so at-home.

I faced my mother, who was grinning ear to ear.

“Mom! What is that thing doing here in my house?!”