What the hell am I doing here? Fucking pompous asshole galore, plastic faced fakes everywhere. Still I am here. Listening to how it is all the rage and so and so has a gay what or what. I have had enough. I am done.
I leave my glass on the bar and try to miss my mother's grasp as I guess rudely break away from another drone going on and on.
"Sweetheart you can't do that." Her tight face and expensive gown give me a bit of a wig out.
"Really mother? I think I have kissed more then enough ass for the week. I have taken off your required week for the charities. Now I want to go back to my home, my work and my life."
I had hopes that she would leave it at that but I knew I shouldn't get that lucky. I hear her very expensive shoes hitting the marble in tiny steps as she tries to keep up with my long strides. When she can't and she is sure she is out of earshot of anyone important she chooses to yell out.
"Please don't go there again." she seems desperate. But it does the trick I do stop, turn and wait for her to catch up. She does and looking down at her I can see she hasn't changed at all really in all these years. Not thanks to genetics though. No, it is thanks to the best money could buy.
"Go where mother? Back to my life and the real world. The one that doesn't involve pretending to care, throwing money at things as we stand around in overpriced gowns and suits drinking $200 a bottle wine eating over priced cuts of meat and saying oh those poor unfortunate people, insert cause here" I even did the air quotes on the last one. "I'm sorry mother but tomorrow is Saturday and I have soccer with my team. I actually don't want to be driving at four in the morning then up at eight."
"Oh please, don't even pretend this is about that. Don't get me wrong, it looks good that you are hands on and involved." She would see it like that, about how it looks. "This is about who you hired. Didn't you learn with that artist husband of yours? You tried to fix him to make up for your early years and what did that get you? You were 31 a widower. He hadn't even made a name for himself. I know you thought you loved him but really weren't you just trying to make up for what..."
Putting my hand up I successfully stopped this train. She had never liked Jason, voiced it all along but now trying to connect things I just can't deal with it.
"Mother I love you, I know where you are going. I will continue to support and show up and play the good son. But I will never, Never be set up with this friends son, nephew or hairdresser. I will not put myself out there to look good."
"Certainly not if you are wagging after that freak who put you through nothing but hell all your life!" her voice is rising and I know her brain has been running overtime. "When your father told me you hired that, that, person" oh she is on a roll now. "All I could do is think about how many nights I sat with you as you cried yourself to sleep."
I had to stifle a laugh and sound sincere for fear I ruin her night with an episode. Putting my hand on her arm I kiss her cheek. But I have as always spoke my mind.
"Mother dear, it was Nanny Kree that was there but I am sure the morning briefings had you quite upset. But really, I am fine thank you for your concern." Brining up the nannies always left her silent and I easily made my way out to the valet.
The drive home was to quiet though, left me with to much time to think. It had been almost a week, he left, I woke up on the couch mid Monday. I was confused but relaxed, and warm. He had covered me with the blanket I had put on him. That reassured me that his leaving wasn't a freak out he didn't leave in a panic. No no one covers someone and makes sure they are comfortable if they are bolting and about to go get a fix. Do they?
A/N: Okay weather here in the midwest is CRAZYY! So I am combining 4 chapters into two just to get them out to you all. I have been scared to write most of the day for fear of a power outage. But I am here and so I am getting it out condensed because net keeps going out.
