amazing procedures and potions out there, but she chooses not to. Maybe she’ll change her mind now that she’s back in the dating world. I could take her to Dr. Grant. He can work wonders. I’ve seen the results in his waiting room. She really should get some boobs, or at least a Wonderbra. It’s so competitive out there.
Damn you, Alphonse. Why did you have to die on me? I’m not ready to go hunting. It’s a good thing I didn’t let myself go to pot. Ha! Like I would ever let that happen.
I’m still holding Michael’s hand. He’s infatuated with me. I can tell. It’s an ego boost, but I’m not interested in him. He’s got a weird vibe. And I don’t know where they stand. She was pushing him away, but maybe she’s playing coy with him. It’s not my style, but if she can work it, more power to her.
“Is my daughter giving you a hard time, Michael?”
Michael looks down, and Liz glares at me. I don’t want to mess up her game, so I better back off. If she likes him, she’ll be furious and won’t let me stay. I let go of his hand. She grabs his hand and pulls him away.
“You should leave, Michael. It’s going to get ugly.”
Why would she say that? I haven’t done anything. Michael totally doesn’t get what’s going on, but he knows enough to split.
“Uh, thanks for dinner. It was great.”
“I’m glad you came.”
I can’t help myself. It’s too tasty to pass up.
“But you didn’t. Did you?”
I wait for them to laugh, at least a little chuckle. Michael looks down, but I can see his slight grin. Liz is mortified. That girl really needs to lighten up. Michael says “Good night,” and I give him a little peck on the cheek. Probably shouldn’t have, but I’m friendly and spontaneous. Sue me. As Michael leaves, I call to him.
“Hope to see you again, sweetie.”
She hisses, “What the hell do you think you’re . . .”
I tried to be good, but I’d much rather be naughty and have fun. Apparently I have set her off. I put my hand up to stop her attack.
“You have to be nice to me. Something bad happened.”
It’s lame, but effective. Her voice softens a bit.
“I am nice to you, but you . . .”
“Alphonse died.”
It’s a showstopper. Death will work every time. You can depend on death. Too bad you have to use it so sparingly. Her eyes roll back. She’s shocked and appropriately upset.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”
But the sympathy only lasts about thirty seconds. I’m bawling again. But does she put her arms around me or offer me any comfort? No way. How did I raise such an ice queen?
“Can I at least sit down and have a glass of wine?”
“Of course.”
She pours me a glass. But I can tell she wishes I would evaporate. She gawks at me in a clinical kind of way.
“How did he die?”
“Massive heart attack.”
From the expression on her face, I can see that she would love to ask me if it happened during sex. But my streaming tears keep her from coming out with it. I better seize the window of opportunity.
“What am I going to do?”
“One thing I know, Mother. You’ll find another man soon. You always do.”
I can’t believe she just called me a slut. I’m in mourning.
“Alphonse was different. He understood me. We were compatible. He was the only one who didn’t notice when I missed my shots. It’s hard to find a man. Especially if you’re not young.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. With all your enhancements and fake parts, you’ll never age. Don’t worry. You’ll find a replacement soon.”
The depth of her disdain is appalling. I need to turn this around. Come on, brain.
“I had an epiphany, sweetheart. I was walking on the beach and I ran into this Rastaman. He helped me see that what’s really important to me is family. I need to be with people who care about me to help me through this difficult time.”
I can’t decide if she’s buying it. She looks perplexed and doesn’t respond. Sorry, but I need an answer, ASAP.
“So what do you say?”
“I’m your daughter. I have to care.”
Not what I was going for, but I can work with it.
“I know how much you care, darling. You can’t imagine how comforting that is. So I can stay here until I get myself together?”
Got her. And she knows it too. I sniffle, take out a tissue and wipe my eyes. She’s madly trying to come up with a reason to say no.
“I . . . uh . . . isn’t there somewhere else.”
My only child. I can’t believe she’s not stepping up to help me. What else can I use?
“You need me now, too. I can help you.”
She looks at me suspiciously.
“I know that Richard’s gone.”
She’s angry.
“Who told you?”
“Richard. At least someone had the decency.”
“I can’t believe you just said that. I called you to tell you, and you said you were busy giving head. That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, especially under the circumstances.”
Picky, picky, picky. Hasn’t she ever been interrupted by a phone call during sex? She never cuts me any slack. I shouldn’t have listened to Alphonse. I should have let it ring. Now I have to suck it up and apologize.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I was totally lost in the moment. Too bad that doesn’t happen to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself with Michael. You’ve always been cold and sort of asexual, don’t you think? But at least you’re not wasting any time, moving right on to the next. Maybe you’re more like me than you think.”
“I just met the guy. He happened to move in next door. I was being a nice neighbor and invited him to dinner. I’m not looking for a bedmate. I’m not like you. And I never will be.”
I’ve managed to rile her again. Why do I do that? I can’t seem to help myself. I see things more clearly than she does, and I’m too
