"Things weren't all hearts and roses, Ellie. If you'd been around you would have seen that. The honeymoon was definitely over." She snorted. "He traveled a lot…too much. I suspected from almost the beginning he was sleeping with other women while he was on his trips. One-night stands. Code of the road. No one squealed to me." She hesitated. "Then he got cocky. And careless. I found proof. Receipts to strip clubs. Women's phone numbers."
She paused and sighed. "What does it matter now? I could show you everything. I'm not imagining or making this up. He was a dog, Ellie. I hid it from you, but that's the truth."
I let her talk. But I refused to let her off the hook by engaging.
She came up behind me and stood. "Austin was there. Funny. Comforting. Understanding. Uncertain about you, Ellie."
"He loved me." The words just popped out.
"Not enough," Mom said. "I recognized the kind of guy he is and will always be. He's like Doug, a philanderer. That's not what you want, Ellie. You're not like me. A guy like that would break you."
"He was faithful to me until you came along."
"Was he?"
I felt my heart stop. I went stone cold. A dozen little signs and insecurities popped up. The suspicions. The things I'd ignored. "Yes."
She laughed again. "You hesitated. Because you suspected. Because you know deep down Austin is a dog, like Doug. And that he wasn't faithful with more women than me. Wasn't faithful to you before I came along. I couldn't ever take someone who didn't want to be taken. Give yourself more credit than that, Ellie."
"I loved him!" I fought my emotions, trying to tamp down the anger and the hurt and fight back tears. "You broke me." I immediately wished I could take back my words. I was too vulnerable, giving her too much credit and power over me.
"I didn't break you. You're not broken. You're stronger than that." There was that fierce, protective tone in her voice again, the one from my childhood. The one that tried to force her desire into reality. She put her hand on my shoulder.
I shook it off. "Even if you're right that Austin was unfaithful, you didn't have to have sex with him."
"Don't act petulant, Ellie. It doesn't help." She paused again, like she was trying to get control of herself. "You're never going to believe me, but I didn't mean for that to happen."
"You mean you didn't mean to get caught. You called him and asked him over."
She sighed. "No one wants to get caught. Whatever Austin told you, he wasn't blameless. When he came over, he knew what he wanted. He wanted to come over, that was clear. He was eager and ready.
"He came onto me the minute he stepped in the door. And I…I had just found out about another one of Doug's indiscretions. And I took revenge on him, not you. Austin was handy and you were…collateral damage.
"It was wrong. I was wrong. If I could, I would take it all back. But the point is, Ellie, it proved to you that Austin isn't who you thought he was. He's a cheater. You can blame me all you like, but you should thank me for that. You were in too deep with him.
"I was afraid you were going to do something stupid like marry him and ruin your life. You were way too young and he was way too wrong for you."
I marveled that she could suddenly sound so maternal. That if someone had walked in on the last part of this conversation, missing the part about her sleeping with Austin, she would sound completely reasonable and like a concerned mom.
"I'm going to make it up to you."
"You can't, Mom. It's not possible."
"I think it is, Ellie. That's why I'm here. To protect my baby."
Chapter Eighteen
Logan
Logan suffered through an awkward meeting at the airport with his parents and brother. His mom kept watching him and staring at him as if he was a wounded baby bird. Logan hated that. Caleb was full of himself and shit. And his dad was his dad—brusque, arrogant, in a hurry. Harlan rushed off to his meetings with the College of Business. Logan took his mom and Caleb out to their hotel to check in and then they went to a local drive-in for lunch. After that, they went for ice cream at the university-run creamery. The university made premium ice cream and cheese.
Sue stocked up on cans of university cheese. She bought one for Logan. She swore he was looking too thin. It was all very normal, but beneath the surface, tensions simmered.
At four, he took them to his apartment. Collin, Zave, and their moms were out. Sue begged off to take a short nap on Logan's bed, leaving Logan alone with his brother. Logan grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Caleb. They sat on the couch, drinking in silence.
Logan tried to make conversation. "So, this injury of yours?"
"Nothing serious. I'll be back in another week. Don't panic, bro."
"Who said I was panicking?"
Caleb sneered. "Serious?"
Logan took a deep breath. They used to be close. Since joining the major leagues, Caleb had turned into someone he didn't know anymore. "Get over yourself." He paused. "Why are you here? Did Mom drag you along?"
"Dad did."
Logan snorted. "Dad? Why? I thought the last thing he wanted was to associate any of you with me."
"You underestimate him." Caleb took a swig of beer. "He thinks my presence is good PR for you."
Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're full of shit. You?"
Caleb shrugged. "Dad knows what he's doing. Usually. You're Mom's fave. He'll do anything to protect you for her. Even sacrifice me." Caleb sounded like he really believed that crap.
"What planet are you from? Since the day you were born, you've been his favorite." Logan shook his head. "And especially since I fucked up. He wouldn't sacrifice you for me even if Mom begged him."
"Maybe he's playing us both."
"That would be like him." Logan studied his brother. The guy had everything. But Logan was surprisingly not jealous. He hesitated. When would he get another time alone with Caleb? He was only asking this because of El. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving her. "Two, I have a favor."
Caleb stared at him, suddenly interested. "That's new. What do you want?"
"Money." Logan explained the situation with Amber and the IPO.
"Shit, Logan. I understand wanting to tell Dad to shove it. You risked the money Grandpa left you? Serious, that's not like you. You're the one who plays it safe. The responsible one."
"I thought it was safe," Logan said.
Caleb nodded. "Sounds like you."
"Look, I know everyone is after your money and hitting you up. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I'll pay you back as soon as we go public."
Caleb set his beer down on the coffee table. "I can't, man. I wish I could, but I can't. Dad's on my ass about how much I've been spending." Caleb looked out the window and frowned. "I blew through my signing bonus and a big chunk of my first season's pay. That put me on Dad's shit list. And now with this injury…"
For the first time since he'd arrived, Caleb let down his guard. He was the old Caleb, the irresponsible one. The good-time guy who'd part with his last dime to show his friends a good time. The one Dad was always trying to drill a sense of the value of money into. And worse, maybe Caleb wasn't worried about his injury, but Harlan was.
Caleb rolled his eyes. "Dad hooked me up with his lawyers and financial guys. He put me on a budget. I can't touch my own dough without Dad's permission. You want money, I'll have to go to him to get it. I will if you want me to. No guarantee he'll say yes. And it pretty much blows your plan."
Logan cursed beneath his breath. It always came back to his dad having the ultimate power. "No, thanks. You're right. I'll find another way."
"Another way to do what?" His mom stood in the doorway to his room.
"Logan needs money, Ma. You got any?"
Ellie
I took Mom to the dining hall to meet Tay and get something to drink. I could almost see Tay's thoughts as she sized Mom up. But Mom was on her sweetest behavior. That's the thing about Mom, she can charm when she wants
to.
Tay was working the grill with one of the guys. When Mom smiled at him, he became annoyingly flustered. The guy at the checkout register fawned all over Mom, too. You know that effect Heidi Klum has on guys? They act the same way around Mom.
Back in our room, Mom insisted we get ready for dinner. "I'll do your hair and your makeup."
"I can do them myself."
She arched a brow. "Makeovers are part of the experience. Bonding."
Resisting her was pointless. If she was making me over, she'd be distracted and we wouldn't have to talk. She wouldn't bring up more suspicions and cast more doubt on people.
I was still in denial and trying to process what she'd said about Austin. Since walking in on the two of them, I had repressed all those memories and doubts I'd had about him before. I was so angry at Mom that I blamed her for everything. And Austin corroborated my beliefs. Who was telling the truth? Was anyone? Or did everyone have their own agenda?
I obediently scrubbed off my carefully applied makeup and sat in my chair while she got out the moisturizer.
She dabbed some on her fingers, ready to apply it. Mom believed in priming a face with moisturizer, even for young, oily skin.
"Are you taking care of your skin? You have a pimple." She sounded surprised, like a zit could never happen to me. "I paid for your Accutane."
She had. As it turns out, it took more than over-the-counter acne treatments to give me clear skin.
I sighed as I handed her all the ammo she needed. But what was the use? She would pry it out of me anyway. "My period just started."
"Ah." She nodded almost sympathetically and studied my chin. "I thought I detected a bit of puffiness and circles beneath your eyes. Don't worry. I can fix that. Are you drinking plenty of water?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Ginger?"
"Of course."
"This pimple looks good. Nice and flat. Not bruised. You didn't squeeze?"
"Never."
She smiled. "Good. I can fix it." As she dabbed the moisturizer on my cheek, she paused and gently touched my scar.
I thought for a moment she'd gloss over it and avoid the issue. I would have.
"This is healing well, too." She massaged it gently with her fingertips, almost tentatively. "I could kill Doug for hitting you." Her voice was fierce.
"It was an accident." I don't know why I defended him. I bit my lip. "I haven't let it scar me, Mom."
The last time she'd seen it in person, it had been a fresh wound.
"Good." Her voice broke. She smiled bravely and began her makeup artistry.
I was holding my cell phone. It rang. A text from Tay. I read it and held back a laugh.
You were not exaggerating. Your mom is way hot. Did you see the way Jake stumbled all over himself trying to get her attention, ha ha.
I rolled my eyes and typed a response.
"Stop texting and close your eyes, Ellie. I don't understand why you resist false eyelashes," she said as she applied some. "Your real ones are pitiful."
"Thanks, Mom."
"No one can claim I'm biased. I see the faults in my kid as clearly as anyone."
"Thanks again. I'm happy to be on the short end of your gene pool."
"Shut up and let me work."
She hummed as she applied my makeup, just like she used to do when I was little. She had a pleasant, mesmerizing voice. When I was young, it was one of the things I lived for. If she was humming, she was happy, and I was in a safe, good place.
I tried to fight that old feeling of calm. Mom had planned all this. She was playing me.
When she finished with my face, she plugged in a curling iron and handed me a mirror. "Take a look."
I looked in the handheld mirror and suppressed a gasp. Mom had taught me a lot of tricks. I was pretty decent with makeup. But Mom was a genius, a true artist. I'd always suspected her of holding back when she did my makeup. She hadn't today. I looked better than I ever had before.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"You've gotten even better. Have you taken a class?" I looked at my profile in the mirror. "I think you've been holding out on me all these years."
You know those department-store classes and makeup sessions at the beauty counters? From the time I first remember, Mom had been going to those at least once every season.
"Why would I hold out?"
I shrugged, but she knew very well why.
"The MAC counter had one of their experts in recently. I picked up a few tips from him." She grabbed a strand of my hair and began curling.
She'd just finished when Bre and Donna returned. I introduced everyone.
"Wow, Ellie! You look gorgeous," Bre said.
Mom beamed.
I nodded toward her. "Mom made me up."
"I can do you, too," Mom said to Bre. "We have time."
Bre's face lit up. "Would you?"
Mom was on her best behavior. "I'd love to. What kind of a look do you want? What are your dinner plans?"
"We're going to a hot-wing place," Bre said. "Make me look hotter and spicier than the wings!"
Mom laughed. "With such fantastic material to work with? That's easy. You have a nice bone structure."
That's what they always say at the makeup counter. Sometimes I thought it was the equivalent of having "a good personality."
Donna and I watched Mom apply Bre's makeup and style her hair. I caught the worried looks Donna flashed at Bre, motherly concern because of her depression over breaking up with Dan. I also saw the grateful way she looked at Mom for perking Bre up and giving her girl confidence.
I wanted to scream that Mom was not that nice and considerate. That this was all fake. That she was only showing off. But I kept my mouth shut.
When Mom was finished, Bre looked the cover-girl model version of herself. Practically flawless, like she'd been Photoshopped in real life. She couldn't stop looking at herself in the mirror, and her eyes were round and happy. Mom had just made a fan for life.
Mom smiled at Bre. "What are you wearing tonight?"
Bre shrugged, still mesmerized by her own reflection. "I dunno."
"Mind if I pick something out for you?" Mom asked. "I'm good with clothes, aren't I, Ellie?"
Now she was dragging me in. Very devious of her. I nodded. "She has an eye for what looks good on people." I kept my tone neutral, refusing to play up to Mom and her vanity.
Bre was a true believer now. She flung open her closet doors and turned to my mom with an eager, hopeful look. Like Mom was going to pull a treasure out of the jumble of clothes. "Here you go."
Mom nodded and mulled over the possibilities, holding things up, discarding them. "Would you two like to dress alike tonight? You'd look stunning as the mother and daughter versions of a hot night out for wings."
Bre laughed, nodded, and turned to her Mom. "Mom? What do you say?"
It was impossible to miss Bre's eager, hopeful look. And clear that Donna wanted her to be happy. She laughed nervously and opened her suitcase for Mom. "You're welcome to try. I didn't bring much."
"I don't need much." Mom looked through Donna's things. After years of living under Mom's fashion tutelage, it was clear Donna wasn't being falsely humble. Mom didn't have much to choose from. I crossed my arms, leaned back, and watched the show as Mom held up various blouses and accessories.
"What do you think, Ellie?" She held up a blue blouse Donna had brought.
She was testing me and dragging me in so I'd bond with her again. I didn't want to play, but I didn't want a scene, either. And Bre was having so much fun. I pursed my lips and studied the blouse. I shook my head. "Too boxy. Try the lavender one. Bre has a complementary colored T-shirt in her closet."
Mom smiled. I'd passed the test. She pulled the very T-shirt I was thinking of out of a pile on the shelf of Bre's closet without hunting for it. "I think so, too."
Then she engaged me in the decisions about accessories and shoes. Finally, she laid out an ensemble for each—blous
e, jeans, shoes, and accessories. We turned our backs while they got dressed.
When they looked in the full-length mirror that hung over my closet door, they giggled.
"We look hot, Mom!" Bre squealed and hugged Mom and looked at me like she totally doubted all those stories I'd told her about Mom all school year. "You've been holding out on me, Ellie? You never told me you're so good with clothes!"
I looked at the clock and deflected. "We need to get dressed, Mom. You still need to touch up your makeup and hair. Harlan hates it when people are late."
"Does he?" A smile spread over her face. "He's one of those people who thinks others should respect his precious time, is he?" She winked at Donna and Bre. "We won't be very late, then."
We arrived at the restaurant five minutes late, both of us dressed in pink. Me in my bright pink sundress. Mom in a surprisingly sedate, but beautiful, pale pink dress. I was still trying to grasp that she'd toned down her look and picked a dress that in her opinion, if she'd admit it, looked like something a dignified mother would wear. Of course, she still looked stunning. She could wear anything and look good. Why was the Evil Queen letting Snow White shine tonight? I kept looking around for the Huntsman.
Mom wrapped her arm through mine as we approached the restaurant. She was wily. Shaking her arm off would have made me look like a bitch, and that was the last thing I needed.
"A meeting of the parents. This is a big deal, Ellie," Mom whispered in my ear. "Are you nervous?"
I stared at her. "With you for a mom? Why would I be nervous? Behave yourself."
She laughed. "Don't worry. I'll make a good impression. First impressions are so important. Now smile, Ellie. Let's make an entrance."
I was sure she'd make an impression. Just how good remained to be seen.
In a small town like this, there was no doorman. But Mom, being the siren she was, had barely wedged the door open when a man inside, a guest, stepped up and eagerly held it open for us. The Mom effect. It took me a minute to realize he was staring at me with the look men usually gave Mom.
I was so stunned, I smiled nervously at him, flustered, as we walked into the crowded foyer. What alternate universe had I just stepped into?