But Angela shakes her head, her expression vicious.
“I’ve been living in poverty while all this time, you’ve been boinking two billionaires. I think there’s something in there for Mommy, don’t you agree? Come on,” she hisses again while jerking on my wrist. And with that, all hope for a peaceful resolution evaporates as we barrel into the restaurant where my lovers await.
9
Rick
My dad glances at the commotion at the front of the restaurant, and his face twists with disgust. “I’d know that screech anywhere,” he says sourly. “Boys, it’s Angela. Your former stepmother.”
Furrowing my brow, I squint, trying to see. Sure enough, there’s a scrawny, stick-thin blonde waving her arms about while speaking in a loud, shrill voice. Her hair is molded into a helmet whereas her cheap-looking, hot pink stilettos look as though they could snap any minute. I squint. Do I know this woman?
Suddenly, it all comes back to me. Yes, my dad was married to an Angela while my brother and I were in high school, but that Angela was beautiful and fresh, even if she was a witch. Clearly, time has not been kind to the woman. Too many hours on the tanning bed have left her skin leathery and orange, and her highlights are chunky and outdated.
“What’s she doing here?” Ryder growls, his brow lowered. But at that moment, Angela sees us and makes eye contact. I shudder internally because there’s something not right about her. Her gaze has the intensity of a berserker, like someone hell-bent on their mission.
Angela begins stomping toward us, dragging along a figure in her wake, and suddenly, we get a clear view of who it is. It’s Chrissy, our beautiful girl. But what’s she doing here? Her eyes are wide with fear, and immediately, my brother and I jump to our feet.
“Well if it isn’t Fred-fucking-Walsh,” Angela sneers as she comes up to our table. “You fucker.”
“Wow. That’s some greeting,” my dad says, his voice as cold as ice. “How nice to see you, Angela.”
I’m about to threaten to wash the old witch’s mouth out with soap when she turns to us, sneering.
“Oh, and look! Freddie has his sons with him! Twin double-fuckers,” she curses.
What the hell? I’m not going to let this woman hurl insults at us for no reason, but then Chrissy steps forward.
“Please stop,” she begs the woman. “Just stop now. We’ll leave and everything will be fine.”
But Angela’s on a roll and nothing short of a club to the head is going to halt this train.
“You know, Fred, you left me with nothing. Nothing,” the woman hisses, gesticulating wildly. “You were a hotshot lawyer with millions in the bank, and you left me with zip after the divorce.”
“You ruined our marriage yourself, Angela,” Fred cuts in, his tone impassive. “You cheated on me with the pool boy, or don’t you remember?”
“Oh that?” Angela asks blandly. “That’s nothing. It was just a fling, and I don’t know why you’re still hung up over it.”
We all stare at her because that’s a bald-faced lie, and obviously, my father is astonished at how easy it is for her to twist the truth.
“Angela, you married Buddy Stanton after we divorced,” my dad says in a tight voice. “You cheated on me with the pool boy, and then married him.”
The deranged woman giggles.
“But I didn’t want to. Oh no. Like I said, it was just a minor indiscretion, and I had to divorce Buddy anyways because he had no ambition. He certainly couldn’t afford to keep a woman like me,” she scoffs. Then, the despicable woman continues. “Anyways, I’ve been living in poverty for years now, Fred, and it’s all your fault. I never had a chance after you threw me out. No one wanted to be my friend because let’s face it – everyone in Sheridan kowtows to the powerful lawyer in town. No one even believed my side of the story! They wanted to keep kissing your ass,” she sniffs.
I’ve had enough. This is incredibly insulting to my elderly father, and I want her gone.
“Please leave,” I say in an even tone. “We’ve heard enough of your filthy lies, and you clearly aren’t in your right mind. Chrissy, would you like to stay for lunch? If you’re feeling better that is.”
But that’s when the blonde woman turns to our girlfriend, her expression filled with malice.
“Oh, and it gets better too! Because Fred, your sons like to double-dip, did you know that?”
I inhale deeply, but my brother beats me to it.
“Our personal lives are no business of yours, so I suggest you get out,” he grinds through his teeth while taking her elbow in a firm grasp. But Angela shakes him off with a wild gesture and then turns back to my father.
“No, Fred. Like I said, your twin sons like to double dip. Literally. And with their stepsister too! Surely, that information is worth something to you.”