“And, what?”
“Well…”
“Mom.”
“Well…we got to talking, and she said she was hoping to have a few people help her plan the big reunion, and I guess I kind of…sort of…maybe told her you’d be able to help a little.”
I can’t even speak, my throat is so tight.
“It’s a good thing, honey! Think of all the friends you’ll get to see. I really wish I’d gone to my reunions. They’re a milestone—”
“You’re joking, right?” I toss back. I know it’s rude not to let her finish, but the beating of my heart has tripled in speed, and if I don’t find a way to get out of this soon, it’ll give up the fight, I know it.
“Mom, for the love of everything, tell me you’re joking.”
“Ava—”
“High school for you was very different from high school for me, Mom. You know that.”
I wait for her to plead her case or apologize or something, but all she gives me is the raspy exhale of air.
“Rose Lucie, I know you’re still there. I can hear your heavy breathing on the phone.”
“I don’t breathe that loud,” she retorts through a sniffle, and I groan. God. Why does she always have to cry when I get up the nerve to tell even an ounce of the truth?
I try to gentle my voice as I explain all the things she should already remember. “My high school experience wasn’t all sunshine and freaking pom-poms, Mom. Callie Camden was an absolute wench to me. I already keep in contact with the people I want to keep in contact with. I don’t need to see anyone else.”
She sniffles again, and I close my eyes and tap my closed fist against my forehead.
“It’s just such a shame you and Callie stopped being friends when you went to high school. You girls used to be so close when you were young.”
“We stopped being close because Callie stopped treating me like a human, Mom. In fact, she was pretty much a mega bitch to everyone.”
“Ava, language.”
“Oh no, don’t try to avoid this conversation by pulling the language card on me, Mommy Dearest. You just volunteered me to help Jackie the Ripper plan a high school reunion.”
“Ava!” My mother bursts into laughter at my words. “Jackie the Ripper? That’s taking it a little far, don’t you think?”
“Nope,” I respond, popping the p. “In my opinion, referring to Callie as Jack the Ripper’s nonexistent twin sister is me being nice about it.”
“Aw, honey, I’m sorry,” she finally apologizes. “I just thought it was such perfect timing since the reunion is the day after Christmas and you’re going to be in Vermont for the holidays and Kate’s wedding. And Callie seemed so interested in seeing you. I just thought maybe you girls could use this as a chance to move on from all that ugliness. I’m really sorry if I’ve upset you. I would never try to do that.”
My shoulders sag at the sincerity in my mom’s voice. Obviously, I don’t want my mom to feel bad—I just want her not to volunteer me for shit I don’t want to do.
But I’m a mere apple, right under the tree. Rose Lucie is the biggest people-pleasing woman you’ll ever meet in your whole life, and in the lottery of genetics, I won that chromosome jackpot handily.
Knowing she can’t help herself any more than I can, I raise my white flag in record-breaking time.
“It’s fine, Mom.” Honestly, it’s not fine, but I can’t not let it go. I have a best friend waiting for me next door so we can get to our Halloween party. His patience is usually pretty great, but I have to imagine it runs out at some point.
“You promise you’re not mad at me?” she asks.
“Promise, Mom,” I lie. I’m still mad. Totally mad, but I loathe making my mom feel uncomfortable. “All is forgiven.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” she mutters, and I don’t miss the way her voice softens with relief. “And, Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t forget to let Callie know you’re not going to be attending.”
“Wait…what?” I question. “Why do I have to be the one to let her know? Pretty sure that’s your job.”
“What was that, honey?” she asks. “You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”
“Mom, I know you can hear me. You’re on your house phone.”
“Ava? Ava? Hello?”
“Mom, be serious. Your house is nowhere near any tunnels.”
“Ava, honey, I can’t hear anything you’re saying right now!” she exclaims, continuing this insane charade of making weird noises into the receiver so I think we have a bad connection. “I’ll call you later, okay? Don’t forget to let Callie know about the reunion. Love you, sweetie!”
Click. And just like that, she ends the damn call.
Fracking hell, Mom!
With a roughness I’ll likely regret later, I toss my cell down onto the kitchen island and groan so loudly, it echoes off the walls.