She made it all sound so simple, like signing up for cable.
She continued, “I only want you to hear from his mother’s mouth that he is a good boy who loves you. He lied to me and, for this, I am upset, but it should only convince you of his good nature. He wanted to protect me and nothing more.”
I drew a breath and nodded.
“We want you, Leely. We do not know you, but we know you are the only woman to take our Patricio’s heart and make it bigger than himself. He does not care about being the real father of your baby. He only cares about loving you and being a husband to you, and this is everything.”
Her words brought tears to my eyes. And it was so sweet how much she loved her son. But it changed nothing. Or did it?
No. Definitely no.
“Thank you, Bibiana. But it’s like I said, the issue was never Patricio. It was always—”
There was a knock on my door.
Great. I went over and opened it. “Mom?”
“Hi, sweetie! I thought you might enjoy a little three-bean salad and a meatloaf.” She moved past me and then stopped, catching sight of Bibiana. “Well, hello. I didn’t realize Lily had visitors. I’m her mother, Gladys.”
Bibiana stood. “It is so nice to meet you, Leely’s mother. I am the mother of Patricio.”
My mother set down her containers of food on my little kitchen/dining table. “Oh my god. It’s so nice to meet you. Patricio is such a lovely young man.”
Why did I suddenly feel like a kindergartner whose mom was meeting one of the other moms in order to set up a playdate?
Bibiana walked around my coffee table to give my mother a giant hug and a kiss on each cheek.
Once properly greeted a la Italiana, my mother pulled back. “So nice to finally meet you.”
“You can call me Bibiana. We are almost like family.”
My mother’s stiff brows told me she was confused but trying to hide it in the name of politeness. Given I was done with the charades and juvenile game playing, I felt obligated to tell my mother why Bibiana was here. But before I could open my mouth, there was another knock at the door.
I froze with fear. The last two knockers had been these two women, and frankly, I needed to get packed and off to the airport. With a groan, I went to open the front door. “Max?”
He looked like a castaway—thick stubble, wrinkled clothes, circles under his eyes. He still looked manly and gorgeous with that tall frame and angular jaw, but it wasn’t like him to look so…sloppy. Max was Mr. Perfect even on casual Fridays.
“Lily, you remember my mother, Maxine.” He stepped aside and there stood…there stood…
His mother? What the fuck? She wore her dark hair perfectly straight and had on large sunglasses. A white bandage covered her nose.
Maxine leaned around him and extended her hand. “Hello, Lily,” she said with a stiffness that sounded like an insult.
Stunned, I took her hand and shook it, but I looked at Max.
“May we come in?” he asked.
Fuck. Patricio’s mother was inside as well as my own. Neither was a fan of Max’s mother, and I was pissed and heartbroken over Max.
“Lily, I know what you must be thinking,” said Max, “but just hear me out. Please.”
“Uhhh…okeydokey.” I stepped aside to let them pass.
The moment I shut the door and turned, I was greeted with the uncomfortable view of everyone looking at each other, glaring, but saying nothing.
This is awesome.
I clapped my hands. “All right. Let’s do introductions.” I gestured toward my mother. “This is Gladys, my wonderful mother. This is Bibiana,” I looked at her not-happy face, “Patricio’s mother. And this is…” I tried my best not to snarl, spit, or swing with a fist at her bandaged nose, “the woman who gave birth to Max.” She didn’t deserve the term “mother,” now did she?
“Lily…” Max growled.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands. “This is Max’s mother.”
No one said anything.
Awkward. Awkward. More awkward…Excellent.
“All right. How nice of everyone to stop by, but I have a flight to catch,” I said.
“Lily.” Max grabbed my arm. “You need to hear me—”
Someone pounded on my front door.
“Well,” I said with acerbic enthusiasm, “I wonder who that could be?” Perhaps the IRS or a drug gang. I mean what could possibly make this situation any more horrible?
I reached for the door. Ah. He could.
“Patricio.” My shoulders dropped. “Why don’t you come in and join the godawful party.”
He cocked a brow.
“Never mind,” I said, this time leaving the door wide open in case anyone else wanted to join the fun.
Patricio took one look at his mother and started berating her in Italian. I could only assume he wasn’t happy about her meddling. While those two began to rant, Max pulled me aside.
“Lily,” he spoke softly, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other day. It was wrong to walk away from you like that.”