Deadbeat Mother

Honest Lunch

~Natalia~

F**K!!!!!! F**k, F**k, F**K! That wasn’t my plan. I didn’t mean to come at her like that. After taking time in the car, I planned to be soft and gentle with her. I wasn’t going to let any smart-ass remarks leave my mouth, and I wasn’t going to be a b***h.

Then I saw her. I put eyes on her. Her beauty is the same as ever. How can she go through so much and still be so naturally gorgeous? She still seems sweet as f**k and humble as all hell. I guess all of these years just wouldn’t let me let things go. I just couldn’t be nice. I couldn’t dull the blade of my tongue or sprinkle sugar on the entire thing for sweetness.

I’m a horrible person, and I don’t know how to stop that. I couldn’t stay long after talking to her. I had to get out of there. They don’t need me until tomorrow; if something is missing, I can always come in tonight and fix it. I just can’t be here right now.

I don’t know where to go or what to do. I know that Evan is probably home; it didn’t look like he planned to go in today. It’s around lunchtime, so Cooper is still at school. I just need to be in the presence of someone, and I guess I don’t have many in the way of choices.

When I get to my car, I take off down the streets of San Francisco. I’m surprised I made it without getting pulled over. I hop out of the car and run up the stairs. I bang on the door repeatedly until it opens. “Nat? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I push my way through the doorway.

“You aren’t at work, so why should I need to be?” I plop on the couch, eyeing the liquor bottle on the coffee table. I grab it and pop the top, downing the rest of the amber liquid. There wasn’t a lot left, maybe a shot or two. I just needed something to take the edge off.

I hear the door close, and I lean my head back, closing my eyes. “Looks like someone had a long day, or I should say a long morning. Want to talk about it?” I may feel back, but I’m not an i***t. I would never sit here and make her look good to him. I still want him for myself, and I won’t be the one to jeopardize that.

“Why her?”

“Excuse me?” I feel the couch sag beside me but keep my eyes closed.

“Why her? We were all friends for a while, yet you were always so hung up on her. Why?”

“Why are you asking about her? Why are we talking about her?” I turn to Evan and open my eyes.

“Just answer the question.” Evan sighs.

“There was always something there, something deep inside of her that spoke to me. I wondered if I had seen her wrong; if I was off about her, but I wasn’t. Everything I thought turned out to be real.” Clearly, that’s a lie since she left like she did.

“After all of these years, why not me?”

“Can we not do this, Natalia? We really shouldn’t do this.” I stand up and start to pace the living room.

“Why not?! I want to know why I’ve never been good enough. Why don’t you want me?” Evan says nothing, and I continue to pace. I stop moving and stare at Evan, waiting for his response. The time ticks by, and the tension starts to become heavy. “Evan….”

“Because you aren’t her.”

~Mia~

Neela said she wanted to have lunch, and I had spent some time trying to find some places for us to go eat. I had to make sure they had enough room for two huge men because I’m sure we wouldn’t be able to shake them. I abandoned all plans when Neela told me we would stay on-site for lunch.

It dawned on me why this would be the most ideal space when Nokio left us to our meal, and those two were not allowed to interfere. Nokio didn’t let them see him step out; he kept them away because he didn’t want them to bother him. I’ve never seen a designer be so accommodating, but that’s what’s going on between him and Neela.

We have been eating for a bit, the best seafood I may have ever had. Neela looks like she’s in heaven. I guess it’s been so long since she’s been able to be back home that she’s enjoying every second.

Neela quietly pushes her food to the side and puts her eyes on me. “I wanted to talk to you, and I’m not sure how much time we will have.” I nod and wipe my mouth, pushing my plate to the side as well. “Is your email still tutorgirlz4them-?”

“At college.edu, yeah.” S**t! I haven’t thought about that email in so many years. I live and die on my work email, so I barely use that one anymore.

It doesn’t take long for a ping to ring from my phone. I look at Neela, and she nods at me, her happy mood slipping. “This is strictly between us. I want you to keep these things safe and, no matter what, don’t tell anyone you have them.” I have no idea what’s going on, but something tells me this is more serious than the open tampon she gave me earlier. I pick my phone up and navigate to my personal email. I open the email from an address I’ve never seen before. The content of that email brings tears to my eyes. They are pictures of a woman who is being hurt repeatedly. There are pictures of bleeding, cuts, and bruises. There are still images of attacks as well as videos.

The tears are falling down my face as I look up at Neela. I want to ask her who this is, who is enduring all of this hurt and pain. I look down again, and that’s when I see it. The picture I’m in actually has the woman’s face. I blink the tears away so I can focus on that face, and the shock causes me to drop my phone. I quickly look up; fresh tears are gathering. “It’s….. it’s you.”