"Mother, let me introduce you to my date, Sax…" Turning, I blushed as I looked to him for the answer.
"Saxon Bishop," he answered, offering a tattooed hand to Jacqueline.
Internally, I was dying from laughter as I watched the internal war flit across her face on what to do. Good manners meant shaking his hand in return, but Sax was not someone she usually surrounded herself with. Bearded, muscular, and tatted, he didn't fit into her country club dream. In the end, she presented her hand tentatively, throwing me a look of hatred as she did, knowing she had to or it would be considered rude.
"Honestly, Loren, bringing a man you don't even know the last name of to my dinner party when I stressed the importance of not embarrassing me. It's like you live to torture me!" she bristled.
Sax turned her hand over and kissed the palm before giving it back to her. Jacqueline Hanover stood stunned for a moment before a slight blush crept up her cheeks. I kind of wished I had a camera to capture the look on her face. I didn't blame her for being disarmed by the man, he had a knack for it. Before I could grab my phone out of my clutch, she blanked her features back into the disdainful housewife she was.
"Hmph. Well, at least you're not late."
I was beginning to realize it might kill Jacqueline Hanover to say something complimentary toward me. Perhaps Mother believed for every nice thing she said to me, it subtracted the good she would receive. My mother was an emotional hoarder. I guess I should be more surprised by this than I was. Thinking about it now, she did kind of fit the profile.
Sax continued to hold my hand as we followed Mother. I'd asked him on a spontaneous whim, but his presence was already giving me confidence and strength to persevere through this meal. A maid stepped out and took our coats before we could step into the sitting room. It had always amazed me how they did that, be there precisely the moment Jacqueline needed something.
Earlier, I'd assumed this dinner was Jacqueline’s way of forcing me to spend longer with them and a platform for her to remind me of all the ways I was a disappointment with my current life choices. Staring into the room now, I knew it was much worse. Standing stock-still in the entranceway of the room, I felt the bottom of my whole world drop away. If Sax hadn't been holding my hand, I might've turned and run from the house.
Almost as if he sensed my impending doom, Sax squeezed my hand, grounding me in the present. It seemed my earlier spontaneity to spice up this evening might be the thing that saved me. My mother's sweet smile as she took her seat communicated everything she felt about me. Maybe I'd never seen it before, or perhaps, I choose to ignore it, hoping for the best from my mother.
Nonetheless, as I stood motionless and stared across the room at the one person who'd broken me in two, I could only concur that my mother, Jacqueline Hanover, absolutely despised me.