“She pees the bed.”
“Not my bed. And she just did it that one time because you yelled at her.”
Faith sighed and walked into the kitchen. “How long are you staying?”
“As long as you need me.”
Faith groaned inwardly and opened the door to the small wine cellar. It wasn’t that Faith wasn’t happy to see her mother or that she didn’t love her, she just didn’t want the responsibility right now. Not for Valerie and certainly not for the evil Pebbles.
For as long as Faith could remember, her mother had never really been a mother. They’d been “friends,” as opposed to child and parent. One of the best days in Valerie’s life had been the day Faith got a fake ID and they could party together.
And when Faith had turned eighteen, she’d followed in her mother’s acrylic-heeled footsteps on the stage.
She pulled a perfectly chilled bottle of chardonnay from the rack and closed the door behind her. She knew her mother believed anything could be solved with a fine bottle of wine, a good cry, and a new man. While Faith didn’t believe that herself anymore, she did believe everything tasted better served in Waterford—something she’d learned from her late husband—and she set a pair of crystal glasses on the black granite countertop.
“I ran into Ricky Clemente at Caesars last weekend. He asked about you,” Valerie said as she ran her pink nails through her dog’s fur.
Faith didn’t know which was more appalling, that her mother chatted with “Ricky the Rat,” the guy who’d cheated on her with half the dancers in Vegas, or that she was in Caesars. She glanced at her mother as she uncorked a bottle of Virgil’s finest.
“Don’t look at me like that. I was meeting Nina at the Mesa Grill for dinner. I stayed away from the slots.”
Faith wanted to believe it, but she didn’t. Her mother had relapsed too many times to be trusted in a casino. Her mother was a pleasure seeker. She needed it like oxygen, and playing the slot ma chines had been pure bliss for her. Thank God she’d never really developed a fondness for cards or dice.
“Ricky said you should call him.”
Faith made a gagging noise as she poured the wine.
“If not Ricky, someone else. You need to jump back on the horse. Take a few rides around the track.” She reached for the glass and held it to her lips. “Ah, the good stuff. This will make you feel better.”
“I feel fine, and it’s too early to date.”
“Who said anything about dating? I’m talking about riding around the track a couple of times with someone fun. A man closer to your age.”
“I don’t want to ride anyone.”
“It would get rid of that sad look on your face.”
“My husband just died.”
“Yeah. Last week.” She set Pebbles on the floor, and the dog waddled to the pantry door and sniffed around. “You need to get out. Have fun. I’m here to make sure you do both.”
Most mothers would have come over with a casserole and cautioned their daughters not to jump into anything too quickly. To take it slow.
Not Valerie. Valerie wanted to party.
“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping and go somewhere nice for dinner.”
“Tomorrow I have to meet with Virgil’s former assistant.” Darby had put her in touch with Julian Garcia and he’d agreed to meet with her the following afternoon. If he also agreed to work for her, and she wanted to hire him, he’d begin working tomorrow night. Starting with the s
econd game against Vancouver. If he didn’t agree and she didn’t like him, she didn’t know what she’d do next.
“After your meeting then.”
“After the meeting, I want to read my hockey books.”
“What’s happened to you?” Her mother shook her head, disturbing wisps of fine, blonde hair. “You used to be so full of life. You used to be so fun.”
She used to be a stripper who partied until the sun came up. She used to be a lot of things she wasn’t anymore.