I resented my mother.
And now, I almost hated her.
Though I supposed it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she knew. She didn’t do anything on purpose. But it was the fact that she could con anyone in the world into marrying her. Why’d it have to be Vince?
“I’d like to leave my ring on,” she said to the masseuse. “I can’t stop looking at it. It’s so nice being married again.” She shrugged her shoulders and flashed a coy, dimpled grin, as if it were her first time as a newlywed. “So, Dakota, how’re things with Harrison?”
“They’re still living together,” I interjected.
“When are you going to cut the cord?” Mom asked, shaking her head as if she truly gave a damn. It was all an act. It always was. “I’d love to see you meet someone new. I want to see that sparkle in those big, blue eyes of yours again.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “Who has time to date? Certainly not me. And who wants to date a woman who could be flown clear across the country at a moment’s notice?”
Coco and Harrison worked out well for a while since he was her producer. He flew wherever she did. They were both obsessed with their work and obsessed with each other, until shit got real. Coco still refused to talk about what really happened, which only told me it was bad.
“You know that boy you used to date in high school, the country singer guy, what’s his name again?” Mom scrunched her face, pretending like she didn’t remember. The whole world knew his name. Beau Mason was the biggest country rock singer in the history of music, with more platinum albums in the last decade than most recording legends had in their lifetimes.
“Beau.” Coco said his name through gritted teeth. She’d refused to talk about him in the nearly ten years that had passed since they went their separate ways.
“Yes! Beau Mason.” My mom smiled fondly, as if she had nothing but good memories of him. I barely remembered Beau since I was a little younger than her when they were together, but he was my sister’s first taste of real love. And her first taste of real heartbreak. Those things never leave you, no matter how much time passes. “You know, I heard he was retiring. For good. Can you believe that? He’s been so successful and he just wants to give it all up for a quiet life back home.”
“Good for him.” Coco rolled her eyes. It was the most she’d said about him in years. If you asked me, she was still wildly in love with him. She’d never admit it though, and she refused to listen to any of his songs.
“Maybe he’s not happy,” I said. I glanced across the room at my sister, and I could’ve sworn she was trying to blink away tears. I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be such a diamond all the time, sparkly and pretty and flawless on the outside and so hard that no one could break her on the inside. It was okay to be vulnerable sometimes. “Maybe he’s searching for something else. Someone else…”
Coco shot me a look that silenced my commentary. “You know, Addison was seeing someone recently.”
“You were?” My mom seemed shocked. “Please tell me you’re back with that nice Kyle boy.” She didn’t know the half of what went down with Kyle, and I never quite had the energy to share it with her.
“Nope, not Kyle.” I shot Coco a look. We were even.
The spa attendants ushered us into another room, where three massage tables were set up.
“Oh, gosh, I just love a good massage,” Mom drawled. “Vince tries to rub my shoulders, bless his heart, but he just doesn’t do it the way a professional can.”
I preferred my massages to be quiet and tranquil, but with Tammy Lynn’s inability to sit in silence for too long, it wasn’t going to happen that day. I breathed in the eucalyptus oil diffusing beneath me and settled into the soft cushion of the table as I tried to tune her out.
“Oh, girls!” my mom’s excited voice was muffled through the headrest of the massage table. “I forgot to tell you, Vince and I are planning a family vacation. We’re thinking sunny Florida! He’s going to rent us a house right on Cocoa Beach. For one week. All five of us. One, big happy family. How’s that sound?”
Like torture. Like pure fucking torture.
“Mom, I can’t take off work,” I objected. I couldn’t be around Wilder for seven days. Not when the wound was so fresh. Peeling myself from him had left a mark, and spending a week with him in Florida was going to be like picking the scab. “I’d have to talk to Brenda. I don’t know…”
“Same here,” Coco added. “I’d have to clear it with the network. I can’t make any promises.”
Mom was silent. Muffled sniffles echoed in the tiny room we shared. She was crying. In true Tammy Lynn form, she managed to make us feel like shit for not giving her what she wanted. She’d done it all our lives.
“It would really,” she said between sniffles, “mean a lot if you could try.”
I groaned. Maybe if I was lucky, Wilder wouldn’t go. “I’ll try, Mom. When were you thinking?”
“Vince is still working out the details. We were thinking next month sometime. Would that give you girls enough time to plan?” Gone were the sniffles and woe-is-me act. She seemed happy again.
Maybe she really did want us to be a big, happy family. Maybe she really did love Vince. Maybe he really did make her happy. And maybe he was going to be the one person to bring out the best in her—the person Coco and I always dreamed she would be.