“Oh, god!” Mom’s dramatic exclamation, coupled with the eye roll, had Taylor chuckling. “Peruvian? What is he, an animal? He didn’t even take you to the Greene?”
The slight hurt more than it should have. Victor had exceptional taste. I always knew that. He was fashionable; his gifts were always tasteful—if not perfect. He was well groomed, and he hated tuna, just like me. It wasn’t the Peruvian that turned my stomach, it had been only the ceviche. I didn’t like sushi either. Any sort of raw meat, did me in.
“No, Mom, we didn’t go to the Greene.” I wished I could evaporate, just vanish out of sight and not have to deal with Mom’s nagging. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we change the subject?”
Taylor shrugged. “Sure. Did you at least tell her you broke it off with Javier?”
Perfect, thank you, Taylor. “No, I didn’t have a chance.” I felt Mom’s laser eyes slicing through me and I didn’t even have to look at her to know she was using them. It didn’t matter that Javier was “lower-class trouble.” Even if Mom had hated him, I was still in trouble for not telling her my personal details.
“You did what?” And there was the shocked, hurt tone. “Darling, you know you can talk to me about anything.”
Zina grimaced, held a finger up, and walked away. Clearly, she had better things to do than to stand around and listen to me being lectured by my mother about how I’m keeping her at arm’s length and not being a dutiful daughter by sharing my gossip with her.
“Yes, Mom. I know. It just happened so I didn’t have a chance to tell you yet. I’ve been… busy.” My thoughts went to the large amount of time I’d spent on the phone or texting Victor and a grin snuck out against my will.
“Busy making googly eyes at another man.” Taylor gave me a playful push and I almost dropped my violin. “What is he, like 50 or something?”
I could have killed her. I could have literally tackled her to the ground and used a violin string to silence her and her tattling mouth right there. It was like she had no sense in her brain at all. Or maybe she just liked to be spoon shaped and stir the pot. Whatever the case, she smirked at me and tapped her foot, as if waiting for a response.
“I think Mom and I should talk privately. Thanks, Taylor.”
Before either of them could protest, I shoved my violin into Taylor’s hand, and guided Mom away from her. I searched for a quieter spot to have this conversation because I knew how Mom would react. As we weaved through the throng of musicians, we passed by Javier, who glared at me.
“Jillian!” He snagged her arm and offered her the kiss-kiss I loathed. “So good to see you. Did you hear the news?”
Mom’s eyebrows rose slightly. “What news?”
“I’m moving to Prague. Got into their symphony orchestra. I’m a string baby; what can I say?” Javier’s fakeness was revolting—acting like he wasn’t affected by our breakup. But I was happy for him. Prague was a huge step for him, and he’d be better off for it. If he could control his gaming and focus on the music.
“Congratulations, Javi, now if you could excuse us?” I yanked Mom away from him and pulled her into the hallway where only a few lingering guests remained.
“Why did you come here?” I didn’t mean to snap at her or make her feel unwanted, but the surprise appearance threw a wrench into my evening.
“Fifty? Kitty, you’re too young to date a 50-year-old. I’m too young to date a 50-year-old.”
“Mom, don’t patronize me. I am a woman, not a child. I can date whoever I want.”
“It’s whoever, dear, and a man twice your age is not a catch. Unless he’s wealthy and terminal. Then hold on to that sucker.” She winked at me and pinched my arm. “Who is this mystery man and how old is he actually?”
My gut churned. She’d find out eventually, but the thought of telling her right then and there made me want to vomit. “It’s not really serious.”
“Baby girl, I want to know who he is so I can look into him. John has contacts you know, and he could tell you if the guy is legitimate or if he is just using you for sex.”
“Mom!”
The idea that my mother knew I was sexually active appalled me. Yes, I was an adult, but no adult wants to think of their parents knowing about their bedroom habits. I blanched as Javier and Brynne—a bassist—passed by, hoping the vomit stayed down long enough to ditch Mom and call Victor for moral support.
“Well, dear, I’m just trying to protect you.” She handed me her purse and put her jacket on. “Is he someone I know?”
My chest tightened. More than you know.
“No, Mom. Not really.”
“Tell me he’s not older than me. At least tell me you have some sense in your head.” She draped her purse over her shoulder and glanced down the long hall toward the main exit. John, her current sugar daddy—age 49—stood waiting, tapping his watch.
“No, he’s not older than you, okay? Now it looks like John is waiting.” My phone began to vibrate—incoming call—and I pulled it from the pocket of my slacks. “I gotta take this, okay?”
Mom pouted but nodded. “Let me know how this whole thing goes, dear. I have to join John with his partner anyway. The symphony was his idea. You know—show off his pride and joy.” She winked and walked away, and all I could think was how disgusting it was that her husband called me his pride and joy when the only thing he’d done was belittle me for being “only a musician.”