Jennie's POV
We haven't moved from our spot in the chair for at least thirty minutes, when finally Lisa lifts her head from my chest and says, "Can I eat now?"
"Yes." I give her a weak smile and start to climb off her lap, but she pulls me back.
"I didn't say for you to move. Just slide my plate over." She smiles.
I slide her plate over and reach for mine across the small table. I am still reeling from this new information and now I feel a little uneasy about going to the wedding in the morning.
Sensing Lisa doesn't want to discuss her confession further, I take a bite off my plate and say, "You are a much better cook than I expected. Having shown your hand, I expect you'll cook for me more often."
"We will see," she says with her mouth full and we eat the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence.
Later, when I'm loading the dishwasher, she walks up behind me and asks, "Are you still mad?"
"Not exactly," I tell her. "I am still not happy about you being out all night, and I do want to know who you fought, and why." She opens her mouth to speak, but I stop her. "But not tonight." I don't think either of us can handle any more tonight.
"Okay," she says softly. Worry flashes in her eyes but I choose to let it go. "Oh, and I didn't appreciate you throwing my internship in my face, either. That really hurt my feelings."
"I know. That's why I said it," she answers, a little too honestly. "I know. That's exactly why I don't like it."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't do it again, okay?" I tell her and she nods. "I'm exhausted," I groan in a small attempt to change the subject.
"Me, too; let's lie down for the rest of the evening. I got the cable turned on."
"I was supposed to be doing that." I scowl at her.
She rolls her eyes and sits next to me on the bed. "You can just give me the money for it . . ."
I stare at the wall. "What time are we leaving here tomorrow for the wedding?"
"Whenever we feel like it."
"It starts at three, so I think we should be there by two," I say.
"An hour early?" she whines and I nod. "I don't know why you insist—" she says but is cut off by my phone ringing.
The look on Lisa's face as she leans over and grabs it tells me immediately who it is. "Why is he calling?" she huffs.
"I don't know, Lisa, but I think I should answer." I grab the phone from her hand.
"Kai?" My voice is soft and shaky as Lisa's glower burns a hole through the apartment.
"Hey, Jennie, I'm sorry to call you on a Friday night but . . . well . . ." He sounds panicked.
"What?" I push, since he always takes longer than necessary to explain stressful situations.
When I look over to Lisa she mouths, "Speaker."
I give her an are-you-kidding look, but end up putting Kai on speaker anyway so Lisa can eavesdrop.
"Your mom got a call from the dorm supervisor about your final bill being paid for the room, so she knows you moved out. I told her I have no idea where you live now, which is the truth, but she refused to believe me. And so she's coming there."
"Coming here? To campus?"
"Yeah, I guess. I don't know, but she said she's going to find you, and she's being irrational and is really pissed-off. I just wanted to warn you, you know, that she's coming."
"I can't believe her!" I shout into the phone, but then thank Kai before hanging up.
I lie back on the bed. "Great . . . What an excellent way to spend tonight."
Lisa leans on one elbow next to me. "She won't be able to find you. No one knows where we live," she assures me and smooths my hair off my forehead.
"She may not find me, but she sure will pester Wendy and ask every single person she sees in the dorm and make a huge scene." I cover my face with my hands. "I should just go over there."
"Or you could call her and give her our address and let her come here. On your territory, so you have the upper hand," She suggests. "You're okay with that?" My hands move from my face. "Of course. She's your mother, Jennie."
I look at her quizzically, given the rift between her and her dad. But when I see she's serious, I'm reminded that she's willing to work on things with her parents, so I should be that brave, too. "I'll call her," I say.
I look at the phone for a while before taking a deep breath and hitting her number. She's terse on the phone, speaking very quickly. I can tell she's saving all her hateful energy for when she sees me in person. I don't give her any details about the apartment or tell her that I live here; I only tell her the address where I am and get off the phone as fast as I can.
Instinctively, I jump out of bed and begin to straighten up our place. "The apartment is already clean. We have barely touched anything," Lisa says.
"I know," I say. "But it makes me feel better."
After I fold and put away the few items of clothing that were on the floor, I light a candle in the living room and wait at the table with Lisa for my mother to show. I shouldn't be as nervous as I am—I'm an adult and I make my own choices—but I know her and how badly she's going to lose it. I am already overly emotional from the brief glimpse into Lisa's past I was granted an hour ago, and I don't know if I have it in me to go to battle with her tonight. I look over at the clock and see it's already eight. Hopefully she won't stay long, and Lisa and I can get to bed early and just hold each other while we each try to deal with our family legacies.
"Do you want me to stay out here with you or give you two some time to discuss everything?" Lisa asks after a bit.
"I think we should have a little time one-on-one," I say. As much as I want her by my side, I know that her presence will antagonize her.
"Wait . . . I just remembered something Kai said. He said the final bill for my dorm was paid." I look at her questioningly.
"Yeah . . . so?"
"You paid it, didn't you!" I half-shout. Despite my energy, it's not really out of anger, just surprise and annoyance.
"So . . ." She shrugs.
"Lisa! You have got to stop spending money on me; it makes me uncomfortable."
"I don't see what the big deal is. It wasn't that much," she argues. "What are you like secretly rich or something? Are you selling drugs?"
"No, I just saved up a lot of money and don't really spend it. I lived entirely for free last year while I worked, so my paychecks just kept piling up. I never really had anything to spend money on . . . but now I do." She smiles wide. "And I like spending it on you, so don't fight me over it."
"You're lucky my mother is on her way and I only have it in me to go to war with one of you," I tease and she lets out a long chuckle that fades until we're just sitting, holding hands and waiting.
A few minutes later there is a knock . . . well, a pounding at the door.
Lisa stands. "I'll be right in the other room. I love you." she gives me a swift kiss before exiting.
I fill my lungs with the deepest breath I can manage and open the door. My mother looks eerily perfect, as always. Not a single smudge marks her heavily made-up eyes, her red lipstick is smooth and silky, her blond hair is neatly piled almost in a halo around her head.
"What the hell do you think you're doing moving out of that dorm without telling me!" she shouts without introduction and pushes past me into the apartment.
"You didn't give me much of a choice," I counter, then focus on breathing in and out to stay as calm as I can.
She spins back to glare at me. "Excuse me? How did I not give you a choice?"
"You threatened to not help me pay for my dorm," I remind her and cross my arms.
"So, I gave you a choice, but you made the wrong one," she snaps.
"No, you're the one who's wrong here."
"Listen to you! Look at you. You aren't the same Jennie that I dropped off at college three months ago." She waves her arms to gesture up and down my body. "You are defying me, even yelling at me! You have some nerve! I have done everything for you, and here you are . . . throwing it all away."
"I am not throwing anything away! I have an excellent internship that pays me very well; I have a car, and a four-point-oh grade point average. What more could you possibly want from me?" I shout back.
Her eyes light up from the challenge, and her voice is full of venom as she says, "Well, for starters, you could have at least changed your clothes before I came. Honestly, Jennie, you look like hell." As I look down at my pajamas, she switches to a new criticism. "And what is this . . . you wear makeup now? Who are you? You're not my Jennie Ruby Jane, that is for certain. My Jennie Ruby Jane wouldn't be hanging out in some devil worshipper's apartment in her pajamas on a Friday night."
"Do not speak about her that way," I say through my teeth. "I have already warned you."
My mother squints her eyes and cackles. Her head falls back in laughter, and I fight the urge to smack her across her perfectly painted-on face. I immediately cringe at my violent thoughts, but she's pushing me too far.
"And another thing," I say slowly, calmly, to make sure I deliver the pronouncement just so. "This isn't just her apartment. It is our apartment."
And just like that, I get her to stop laughing.