Abby Hale: You know…She/Him…SHIM…DUH!
Ava Readsalot: Okay. Officially, that theory, yeah that is a few fries shy of a happy meal if you get my drift.
I’m in a fit of giggles when the sound of the phone ringing echoes through the apartment. I hear Alexandre answer it.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, no problem. Okay. See you soon.”
Ava Readsalot: Fuck!!!
Abby Hale: What’s up?
Ava Readsalot: Alexandre, just got a phone call…GRRR. With my luck…
Abby Hale: With your luck what??
Ava Readsalot: Shit. Okay, I got to go. Alexandre is walking in.
I quickly close the screen to my laptop as he enters the bedroom.
“Who was that?”
“Oh just my mom. She’s coming over.” He’s standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
“Alexandre, what do you mean she’s coming over? When?” My voice is rough and abrasive. I can’t hide my annoyance.
He shrugs. As if I’m not worth the aggravation. Goddamn him and his shrug. Just spit it out! Tell me what my fate will be.
“What, like now, Alexandre? Is she on her way now?” I stare at him with disbelief, and he shrugs his shoulders once again. Oh my God, if he shrugs again, I might be forced to kill him.
“I’m not even dressed.” She always shows up unannounced.
“So get dressed.”
“Some notice would have been nice,” I murmur under my breath as I jump off the bed and head into the bathroom. Quickly turning on the water, I take a quick shower. I don’t think I’ve ever showered so fast in my life.
I step out, pull the towel around my body, and dry the beads of water dripping down me. As I start to run the brush through my hair, I decide to let it air dry as time is obviously not in my favor. I throw on some clothes and sit down in front of my vanity to do my makeup. I apply a small amount of blush to my already defined cheekbones, and I’m about to apply gloss as Alexandre steps into the bathroom.
“My mom is here.” He bites his lip, and his voice is rimmed with something I’m not used to hearing…apology?
The word “Okay,” sounds odd as I continue to apply my lip-gloss. He turns to leave and stops and looks back at me.
“Mom wants us to go to a fundraiser tonight. We’re going; be ready at 8 pm.” His voice is now void of emotion, leaving me cold in the aftermath. As he walks out of the room, I trail behind him.
I enter the living area and plaster on a smile. Maybe this won’t be so bad. No such luck as I catch Lenore looking me up and down, her disapproval evident.
“Ava, please go get your hair done. You are looking a little…” She looks at me again. Her lips pucker like something tastes sour, and there is disgust in her eyes. “Well, dear, I’d invite you to come to brunch with us before you need to get ready for tonight…but honestly, you seem like you need the time to put yourself together better.”
I want to die of embarrassment. My eyes lock on Alexandre. He says nothing. He’s lost in his own thoughts and probably doesn’t even realize his mom has spoken. He does this often. It is his defense mechanism, I think. He just turns off, afraid of the confrontation that could ensue. You would assume after all these years that I wouldn’t wait for him to stick up for me. I used to hope that he would, but that ship has sailed.
I know he won’t.
Somehow, miraculously, I’m able to hold myself together long enough to watch them decide where they would like to go for brunch. I dart from the apartment, leaving them still in conversation. I’m in such a hurry to leave that I barely have time to grab my cell phone. Dialing and breathing I stand by the entrance to our building…heart racing and pissed.
“Jules, oh my fucking God….I just can't, I just can't,” I say frantically into the phone.
“Calm down Av, breathe. Damn girl, what is wrong?” Her voice is calming…too bad it’s not helping.
“I just can’t. Honestly I want to fucking kill her, just beat her ass, and after that I want to string him up, too,” I spit out.
“Whoa, Whoa! Who are we talking about?” The confusion is evident in her voice.
“Lenore, Jules. His God damn mother.” I pace back and forth looking like a crazy lunatic “She…she told me to be presentable. What the fuck? All I do is be presentable. I mean can you believe this shit?”
“Yes Ava, I can. She has always been like this! I’m not sure why you thought you would marry her son and ‘poof!’ all would change.” Her voice is serious and rough. She understands and sympathizes with the pain I’ve gone through.
“I mean, I’m her daughter now…I just thought getting married would, I don’t know, give me legitimacy or something.” I sigh into the phone. “K, k listen, I’m freaking out, Alexandre and Lenore are going to brunch, and I was told to make myself decent. I need to buy a dress, get my hair done, and…hell, makeup, and I just can’t think.” The words come out with frenzy.