“What type is that?” Claire asked.
“Woven bamboo shades. One of our customers told me that they would make the place look more authentic, so I think I’m going to take the advice.”
“Yellow or brown?” Claire raised her eyebrow.
“Brown.” My mother sipped her juice. “The walls in the shop are all painted in earth tones so it’ll match better.”
I put my arm around Claire’s shoulders. “I guess I need to start paying attention to those HGTV shows...”
“That makes two of us.” My mother shook her head. “So Claire, what do you do at Statham Industries?”
“I’m a marketing director. I oversee the slogans and artwork for promotional campaigns.”
“Did you do any work for the sPhone blue? Those commercials are beyond beautiful.”
I smiled. “She did.” I listened as my mother talked about her inability to work anything my company produced, as she and Claire talked about their favorite books; I’d somehow forgotten that my mother was a huge literature fan before she got hooked on drugs.
The waiters discreetly refilled our glasses and brought out the courses one by one.
I was in the middle of tasting the chef’s mushroom risotto when I noticed Claire scrolling away on her phone. “Who are you texting?”
“Ashley and Caroline...I swear they think every time I go out is an opportunity to borrow my car...I’m just going to give in and buy them separate cars for their birthday. They do deserve it...”
“I’ll help you pick the cars out.” I squeezed her hand. And I’ll buy them...
“You have daughters?” My mother smiled. She seemed like she was actually trying to make this dinner go smoothly. “How old are they?”
“They’re sixteen...”
“Wow, twins? I have a friend in my therapy group with twins. She swears they’re a handful, but I think it’s because they’re fraternal. A boy and a girl going through puberty at the same time? That’s got to be rough.”
We all laughed.
The hostess from downstairs walked over to our table. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner, but the gallery room is only going to be open for one more hour. Would you like to take a tour now? In keeping with the artist’s vision, the women start on one side of the gallery and the men start on the other. It enhances the experience.”
“I’d love to.” My mother stood up. “What about you, Claire?”
“Yeah, it sounds great. I’ll come right after I finish my dessert.” She smiled.
“Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No, you don’t have to.” Claire shook her head. “I’ll be down in five minutes max.”
My mom looked at me with a glance that said “I’m really trying here...” and I smiled at her. I was shocked at how well she’d behaved herself tonight; I didn’t think things could have gone any better.
As the hostess escorted my mom downstairs, I looked over at Claire. “Thank you so much for coming, tonight. It really means a lot to me.”
“You’re more than welcome. I think you two are going to be okay in the long run.”
“Let’s hope so. Hurry up and finish your dessert. I want us to see the gallery.”
“It’s not like we can see it together. The hostess just said—”
“I don’t give a damn about what enhances the experience...” I brought her head close to mine and whispered in her ear. “Part of the exhibit is a pitch black room and I’m going to experience that with you.”
I moved Claire’s dress back over her shoulders and gave her one last kiss. We walked through the rest of the exhibit hand in hand—leaning on one another, discussing what we did and didn’t like.
Once we reached the last piece, a huge plastic “X” covered in polka dots and graffiti, I spotted my mother by the doors.
She walked over and reached for Claire’s hand. “It was a pleasure getting to know you better tonight, honey. Maybe next week we could all do it again?”
Claire shook her hand and nodded. “Definitely. That’d be great.”
“Greg is going to take me home, Jonathan. I texted him while we were eating dinner. I figured you and Claire may want to spend more time together tonight.”
Who is this woman and where the hell is my real mother?
“Thank you.” I gave her a hug and whispered, “Thank you so much. I’m sorry for what I said earlier in the car.” I let her go and watched her walk outside to the town car.
As soon as the car pulled off, I pulled Claire into my arms and kissed her like my life depended on it—holding her body tightly against mine, slipping my tongue deeper into her mouth each time she moaned. “Come home with me tonight.”
Chapter 25
Claire
I was breaking up with Jonathan. Today.