The hair dryer was still running in Kristen’s room when the doorbell rang on my way to the garage. I called down the hall, but she didn’t hear me. Figured I might as well make myself useful, so I answered it.
The woman on the front porch wasn’t what I expected. She could have been Kristen’s grandmother. Maybe she was her grandmother. She looked like she was pushing seventy. Still good-looking though. Kind of regal.
I saw Kristen’s high cheekbones, petite frame, and large eyes. Her gray hair was pulled tight into a neat bun. She wore pearls.
When she saw me, she gave me a raised eyebrow and looked me over like I was a wine list that didn’t have her year.
“Well, hello. Is my daughter available?” Her eyes flicked coolly to my wet hair.
“She’ll be right out. Come in. I’m Josh, her carpenter,” I added, giving her a hand to shake.
“Evelyn Peterson.” She shook my hand firmly and then looked around the living room while she fished a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse and squirted some into her palm.
It was a little rude, but I watched this with amusement.
I saw where Kristen got her scowl from. Evelyn did not look pleased.
“I hope you don’t take the state of this house as evidence of a poor upbringing,” she said, rubbing her hands together and eyeing an empty beer bottle and dirty plate on the coffee table. “Kristen grew up with a
housekeeper, but I’d like to think I instilled a sense of pride in her.” She wrinkled her nose at one of Stuntman Mike’s half-chewed bones on the floor. “Even if it’s not always apparent.”
Kristen’s house was spotless. You’d be hard-pressed to find a dust bunny under the couch. Who gave a shit about a beer bottle and a plate?
She moved around the coffee table and picked up a green dachshund sweater from a stack Kristen had been inventorying. It read I SEE YOU LOOKING AT MY WIENER. Evelyn grimaced and set it down with two fingers.
My mom would have thought that shit was hilarious. Evelyn wasn’t a wiener-joke kind of lady, I guess.
I was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Too pretentious for my taste. Still, I was kind of her host at the moment, and I had to entertain her until Kristen took over.
“Uh…can I get you something to drink? A water?” I asked.
Her steely gaze settled back on me. “Thank you, no. Where is Tyler?” “I’m not sure. I just work here,” I said. It wasn’t my place to tell her
about the voicemail breakup.
She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm.”
Kristen came around the corner, her hand to her earring, and she stopped cold when she saw us together. Then she did something I have never, in the entire time I’ve known her, seen her do.
She turned red.
“I was beginning to think I needed to send out a search party,” Evelyn said curtly.
I braced for Kristen’s snarky retort, but to my surprise she didn’t reply.
Instead she stiffly kissed her mom hello.
“And where is Tyler?” Evelyn gave Kristen an air-kiss. “I hope we’re not going to be late. You know how I hate being late.” She glanced at a diamond watch.
Kristen’s eyes flicked nervously to me. “Actually, Tyler won’t be coming. We broke up.”
Evelyn’s lips pressed into a line. She waited a long beat before she replied with a cool, “I see.” She turned to me. “Joshua, would you care to join us? Our reservation is for three.”
Kristen spoke quickly. “He has a lot of orders—”
“I believe this was my brunch invitation,” Evelyn said. “You’ve deprived us of our threesome and failed to inform me in advance so I could make the proper arrangements to fill the seat. I’d like to invite Joshua, and it’s my invitation to extend.”
Her tone had a finality to it. I looked at Kristen. She’d gone totally silent. Kristen, silent.
This alarmed me more than I could comprehend.
Something protective told me not to leave her alone with this woman. This Tyler thing seemed to be some sort of hot button between them, and I got the impression a buffer was needed. Maybe that’s why she asked. The empty chair might piss Evelyn off and just make things worse.
“Sure, I’d love to come.”
Alarm ripped across Kristen’s face.
I looked down at my clothes. “I’m not sure I’m dressed for it though.”
I didn’t know where we were going, but both Kristen and Evelyn were in dresses and heels and I was in jeans and a Burbank Fire T-shirt. I didn’t have anything else to change into.
Evelyn sighed. “You’ll fit right in with all the other underdressed millennials there, I suppose. I’m sorry Kristen didn’t make it possible for me to give you more notice.” She turned for the door. “Oh, Kristen? You really should put your trash cans where they can’t be seen from the street. Curb appeal matters, dear.”
Evelyn came in a black Town Car with a driver. On the twenty-minute trip to the restaurant, she picked lint off Kristen’s dress and commented on her damp hair. In between the nitpicking, I learned she was a tenured law professor at UCLA and a judge.
Man, she was uptight. I wondered if she ever hugged Kristen as a child. I couldn’t picture it. I couldn’t even imagine her smiling. Come to think of it, she didn’t even have laugh lines. Just two deep wrinkles between her eyebrows where she drew them down.
Kristen seemed paralyzed. It was the weirdest thing. I kept looking at her, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. She reminded me of a cornered animal so frightened that its fight-or-flight response had shut off and it just sat there, frozen and terrified.
The restaurant was in Simi Valley, and I was definitely underdressed. The other millennials were no help. They were in sport coats and button-
downs. A hostess led us to a white linen-covered table with a small vase of roses on it by the window.
“We’ll have menus,” Evelyn said to the hostess in a bored tone. “I don’t trust buffets,” she explained. “Too many people pawing at it.”
Kristen and I shared a look. The buffet looked incredible. We both wanted to hit that up. It had a damn ice sculpture on it and a Bloody Mary bar. A fat prime rib sat on the carving table and iced crab legs and shrimp flanked the omelet station.
But I didn’t want to be rude. I was a guest. And Kristen didn’t look like she planned on arguing either, so we took our menus.
I don’t know why Evelyn let Kristen have one though, because when the server came, Evelyn ordered for her—eggs Benedict. Kristen didn’t comment, but I happened to know she hated poached eggs. She didn’t like runny yolks. And she definitely didn’t like being told what to eat.
I didn’t get this dynamic at all. Kristen was sitting there, but she was nowhere to be seen. Her flame was completely extinguished, like her mom drained all the fire right out of her.
Our drinks were delivered. I sipped an orange juice, and Kristen took a long swallow of her mimosa.
Evelyn pulled artificial sweetener from her purse and squeezed it into her coffee. “So, Kristen. What did you do to run off Tyler?”
What the fuck? My hand tightened around my glass.
Kristen carefully set down her champagne flute. “How do you know it wasn’t me who broke things off?”
Evelyn looked amused, like the question was absurd. “Was it?” Kristen sat rigid. A student in the principal’s office. “He reenlisted.”
“I see.” Evelyn set her spoon down on the saucer. “Well, I can’t say this surprises me.”
Something angry flashed in Kristen’s eyes, but she seemed to push it down. She pressed her lips together for a second. “And why is that?”
Evelyn raised her coffee cup to her lips and took a sip. “Well, a driven man like that wants the same in a partner, wouldn’t he?” She turned to me. “And Joshua, what is it that you do? Or do you build dog merchandise full time?”
The question was condescending. For all she knew, I did build dog merchandise full-time. And what the fuck was wrong with that?
“I’m a firefighter and paramedic.” “Do you have any higher education?”
Why did I get the feeling the question was meant to be insulting? She had to know not many firefighters also held doctorates. An associate degree in fire science was about the norm. But if I had to guess, anything under a four-year degree wasn’t going to impress her. I couldn’t care less. I was proud of what I did for a living. But she clearly meant to highlight what she considered to be a shortcoming.
“I never went to college. I went into the military after high school. And then the fire academy, of course.”
Evelyn spoke over her coffee. “And how long have you been sleeping with my daughter?”
“Mom!” Kristen stared at her, openmouthed.
I sat back in my chair and dragged a hand down my face. Well, Kristen’s bluntness was definitely hereditary.
Evelyn set her cup on the saucer and put her hands together. “Really, Kristen. We don’t need to play games. We’re all adults.” She gave me a disapproving glance. “I do hope this wasn’t the reason why Tyler decided to search for greener pastures, however. For once I thought you were on the right track.”
Kristen flushed again and my hackles came up. Was this lady for real?
“I didn’t have anything to do with him breaking up with her,” I said, feeling a little indignant. “And neither did she. It’s been hard on her, and I’m surprised you’re not more concerned about how she’s feeling at the moment.”
I felt Kristen’s wide eyes on the side of my face.
I went on. “And if you bothered to ask her, she’d tell you that he broke up with her in a voicemail like a coward.”
Maybe that would knock that joker off the pedestal Evelyn seemed to have him on.
Evelyn’s expression remained placid, and she didn’t get a chance to reply because the server came and started setting food down in front of us.
Kristen looked at her eggs with dismay. She was pretty picky about her food, and she got cranky when she didn’t eat. I got the feeling she’d muscle through this because her mom seemed to have some sort of mind control over her, but she’d hate it.
You know what? Fuck this.
I picked up her eggs Benedict and gave her my French toast. “Kristen doesn’t like her eggs like that,” I said to Evelyn, not even trying to mask my annoyance.
Kristen looked at me like I’d just given her one of my kidneys. I put a hand under the table and squeezed her knee.
Evelyn watched the whole thing with unmasked distaste.
I couldn’t fucking believe this was Kristen’s mom. How did this lady raise someone so cool? If it wasn’t for the uncanny family resemblance, I’d think this was some elaborate joke.
Evelyn draped a napkin over her lap. “Joshua, you might find my impatience with my daughter a little confusing. You haven’t known her very long. The thing that you don’t realize is that Kristen has a tendency to self-sabotage.”
“I highly doubt that,” I said, my jaw tight. It wasn’t her fault Tyler reenlisted.
She chuckled. “You would. But then you’re the most recent proof, aren’t you?”
Kristen’s fork hit the plate with a clatter. “I realize you’re disappointed that Tyler and I broke up,” she said with sudden vehemence. “But it is none of your business. Who I’m fucking is none of your business.”
Evelyn’s eyes smoldered. “Of course. Why would anything you do be my business? I raised you to be a prosperous person, poured myself into your development, and you’ve spent the last five years systematically undoing everything I instilled in you. First you stopped playing piano, turned your nose up at Juilliard. Then you walk away from Harvard so you can play house with Sloan. You discarded the elite college education I paid for by dropping out of law school to sell clothing for dogs…”
Piano? Law school?? Harvard???
Evelyn scowled. “Now you’ve botched the only relationship I’ve ever approved of. But of course, continue on, Kristen. See how far you can fall. You could have been making a respectable living, for God’s sake.”
I was beginning to lose my fucking cool. “She does make a respectable living,” I snapped. Shit, she made twice as much as I did, easily.
Evelyn sent me a cutting glare. “Our opinions on what constitutes a
respectable occupation are likely very different, young man. And I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”
Like hell I’m staying out of it. “She started her own successful business from the ground up. She gets to be her own boss and she gets to do it from her living room. I’d think you’d be proud.”
“Yes, it’s not exactly a meth lab that I’m running, Mother,” Kristen said, smirking into her mimosa.
There’s my girl. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, no one’s saying you should give up your hobbies, honey bunny.”
Kristen choked and spit her drink back into her glass, and we both launched into laughter.
Steam came out of Evelyn’s ears and she glared at us. Kristen descended into a giggling fit, leaning into my shoulder.
The spell was broken. She was back.
Evelyn dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and raised a finger at the waiter. “Well, it’s good to see that you’ve found someone to celebrate mediocrity with, Kristen.”
Kristen grinned up at me, still laughing. “We do know how to celebrate, don’t we, Joshua?”
“I’m all worn out after last night’s celebration.” I chuckled, wiping at my eyes. I slid my plate away from me and dropped my napkin onto it. “Ready to go?” I pulled out my wallet and tossed some bills onto the table. “Thank you for the invite,” I said to Evelyn as I pushed out my chair. “Kristen?” I gave her my hand.
She didn’t move.
Come on, Kristen—let’s go. Don’t stand for this shit.
She took my hand with a sideways grin and got up.
“Mom, this has been fun, as always.” Then she grabbed the money I put on the table, tucked it into my back pocket, gave my ass a squeeze, and led me by the hand out of the restaurant.
