When she finally had fallen asleep it had been broken and restless; and here she was, still staring at her ceiling, but this time the shadows were gone, and now filtering in through the window was the morning sun that didn’t help the headache that formed behind her eyes from too much drinking, too much thinking, and not enough sleep.
The sound of her cell going off had Mary closing her eyes and lifting her hands to rub at her temples. And although she didn’t look at the screen, she knew who it was, and it was too damn early to talk to her mom. But if she ignored it there would just be another call in ten minutes, and then another ten minutes after that.
With a groan, she reached out and blindly grabbed for the cell, the phone sliding across her bedside table before she curled her fingers around it and answered it before bringing it to her ear.
“Hi, Mom.” Her voice was gritty from lack of sleep, and her throat dry and sour from a night of drinking.
“Mary? Why do you sound like that?”
She wanted to groan as nausea rose up in her stomach, but she pushed it back and cleared her throat. “I didn’t sleep well. I’m tired. That’s all.”
For the next five minutes her mom talked about wedding plans—per usual—and reiterated how Mary needed to have a date for appearance sakes.
“And if I don’t?” Mary was surprised that smartass comment came out, the sharpness in her voice pretty clear. The line went silent, her mother probably shocked by Mary snapping back, but right now she just didn’t care. She was tired and hungover and just in an overall shitty mood.
“I don’t like the way you’ve been acting as of late. I don’t know if it is the people you’ve been spending time with that you’ve grown disrespectful, but I won’t tolerate it, young lady.”
For fuck’s sake.
Mary rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up so her back was to the headboard. Her skull pounded with the new position. “Sorry,” she mumbled, but she didn’t mean the apology. It was just said to placate her mother.
The sound of china clinking told Mary her mother was probably sitting at her dining room table drinking her morning tea and planning what ridiculously time-consuming activities she’d do with her socialite friends later in the day. “I just called to make sure you and your date will be here for our family dinner Friday before the wedding. I’m also inviting a few close friends.”
God kill me now.
“We’ll have dinner at the house Friday evening with Joe and Margo.”
Just hearing Margo’s fiancé’s name had her wrinkling her nose. Joe Barton was not only a prosecuting attorney, but was renowned in their community as a shark in the courtroom and always out for blood. A real piece of shit, Mary concluded.
“I’ll be there, but not sure I’ll have a date.” Wait for it. Wait for it.
“Mary Sandra Trellis, we’ve already added the extra head in the order count for the wedding. Please don’t disappoint me.”
“Mother, things come up. I can’t help it if plans change.”
“And plans can change once more in everyone’s favor.”
“Yeah,” was all Mary said.
She could absolutely go there without a date, but things would be so tense, so awkward, and the thing with her mother was that she wouldn’t keep face and stay quiet. She’d cause drama, call Mary out in front of everyone like Mary had done something wrong. She’d embarrass the hell out of Mary.
Taking Alex didn’t even seem plausible anymore, but who else could she ask? Was she actually contemplating still taking him with her? And all because she wanted to piss some people off and say, without actually saying it, that she didn’t give a fuck what they thought? That her own respect wasn’t high on her list because she would take a man who had been vile with his words?
But in reality, bringing Alex, even if he was an arrogant asshole, was a hell of a lot better than going to the damn wedding alone and being subjected to her mother’s manipulation and gaslighting.
Dammit, she honestly didn’t know what to do, because her pride demanded she never speak or look at Alex Sheppard again; but another part of her wanted to take him because he was such a prick he would scandalize all of the people that ever made her feel like shit while growing up.
Twenty minutes later she was off the phone, showered and dressed, and headed into the kitchen. The scent of coffee filled their small home, and she spotted Darcy slung over the couch, her roommate and friend hungover as well, it seemed. Mary stopped and smirked as she saw Darcy had one arm and leg hanging over the couch, a blanket thrown half on and off her body, and the television muted but playing some black and white movie.