It's been a long time since Lainey slept in on a Sunday. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she woke up without the assistance of an alarm. What sleep was meant to be like. No alarms. No waking up wishing the world would end. Just sleeping until she literally couldn't keep her eyelids closed any longer. She sat up and stretched for a full ten seconds. She must've slept without stirring even once. She stepped out of bed and made her way over to her vanity dresser.
"You look really bad," she croaked to the girl in the mirror. "But you slept really good," she added with a smile. She showered and dressed and took another look at the girl in the mirror. "Hey there, sexy!" she joked.
Lainey actually never thought too highly of her looks, despite all the compliments her eyes alone managed to get some days at school and work. Eric even wrote a poem about her eyes when they were together. It was a horrible poem. But a genuine one. Lainey figured it was when Eric broke up with her for Vera Barnes that her self-esteem plummeted. She barely remembered the days when she felt she was the most beautiful girl in the world. That may have been because Eric made her feel that way by constantly reminding her she was. Then Vera Barnes, with her platinum blonde hair and auburn eyes and supermodel good looks, caught Eric's attention.
Lainey never once blamed Vera for their breakup. She couldn't have. Not entirely, anyway. It would have been wrong. It was Eric who decided to split. Lainey promised herself she wouldn't be bitter about their breakup. She promised to quickly get over it. It's been almost three months since their very awkward breakup, but she still found herself flushing in Eric's presence? And why do she still keep that stupid photo card on her vanity dresser? Lainey almost cringed when she realized how pathetic it was. She grabbed the photo and stared longingly at it. She wore a big smile as Eric embraced her from behind. They had taken it at last summer's annual culture fair. The last fair they'd attend together.
Ugh! Who cares? Lainey thought. She turned the card sideways and motioned to rip it in half.
But she didn't.
Instead, she tossed it back on her vanity dresser. That was when Lainey was startled by the sudden knocks at her door.
"Elaine?" Mom called from outside.
"Yeah, Mom? Come in."
Mom slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
"Hey," she said cautiously.
"Morning."
"We need to talk," Mom said.
Lainey shrugged and sat at the end of her bed.
"I got all day," she humbly said.
"I was thinking over lunch. You hungry?"
***
Fawn booted up her desktop. Mama's guests left her with too many questions. Why could she hear Vivienne's voice in her head? What did she mean by Do you even know what you are? What was the weird tension between Mama and Jules? What was the real reason they all traveled to Sancova?
Once Fawn's computer had booted up, she searched for directions to Sancova Heights Hotel. The hotel was about a nineteen-minute walk from Sancova High or eight bus stops. She decided she'd make the trip there after school the following day.
Knocks came at Fawn's bedroom door.
"Come in."
Mama slowly entered and took a seat on Fawn's bed.
"Hey again," she said.
"More surprise visitors?" Fawn joked, shutting down her desktop.
"No . . . no, I just wanted to . . . see how you were doing."
Fawn spun around in her swivel chair.
"What do you mean?"
"Have you had any weird visions or dreams or . . . anything like that?"
"No."
"Anything weird or out of the ordinary happening around you . . . or to you?"
"No, Mama. Why do you ask?"
Mama sighed and pursed her lips.
"I don't have an answer for that, baby."
Fawn narrowed her eyes.
"O-kay."
"I apologize for the confusion. That's . . . all I can say."
"Really, Mama. It's okay."
Mama smiled.
"Hey, I was thinking pizza for lunch. You want?"
Fawn cheesed.
"Uh . . . yeah!"
* * *
Mom made reservations at the Abalone Tavern in town. The drive to the restaurant was rather quiet. Mom tried to stir up a conversation several times with small talk but Lainey's one-word responses apparently discouraged her as she finally submitted defeat when she decided to turn on the radio. Lainey could only imagine how awkward their lunch was going to be. They weren't exactly on speaking terms. Her mother had just made her quit her job. Her one outlet from home. From school. From the nightmare she'd been living for a week. How could she pretend she did not hate her for it?
Lainey turned down the radio and said "We haven't been to the Abalone in forever," in an attempt to at least try to be socialble. "Not since Dad died, I think."
Mom shifted in her seat.
"Sheesh, has it really been that long?" she asked.
"About a year, yep," Lainey said. "But I still very well remember Dad's order. Every single time, the same thing."
Mom chuckled.
"Oh, you mean the the swordfish . . ."
" . . . Lump crab meat . . . "
" . . . Sweet potatoes . . ."
"And room-temperature red wine," Lainey and Mom concluded together.
Laughing.
Lainey couldn't remember the last time she and her mother laughed together. Genuine, non-awkward laughter. It felt nice.
They pulled up to the Abalone, parked and made their way inside the restaurant. It was a large seafood restaurant with stone walls, some with waterfalls, and large fish tanks adorning the middle walls of the restaurant which Lainey found excessive and rather morbid. They found seats and placed their orders. Mom decided to try something new, ordering the sesame crusted tuna and vegetables. Lainey went with the more obscure "Abalone Seasonal Special".
"At least the prices are still the same," Mom said, closing her menu.
"Yeah. And our usual seats were available," Lainey added, which only made the empty seat by the window stand out more.
"It's not the same, is it, sweetie?" Mom asked Lainey with a genuine smile.
Lainey solemnly shook her head, her eyes growing warm.
Mom shifted in her seat and leaned forward.
"I brought you here today to discuss what you asked me about the other morning."
"What are you talking about?" Lainey asked.
"When you asked why your father and I divorced."
"Oh," Lainey breathed.
"But for now, how about we just enjoy our food," she said, grabbing a bread roll from the full basket on their table.
Lainey grabbed a roll too.
"Cheers," she said blandly.
An hour later Lainey was stuffed. The Abalone Special consisted of grilled shrimp, white rice and potato hash and eggs.
"God . . . if I eat anything else, I'm gonna explode," Lainey groaned, her head turned sideways on the table. "But damn if that wasn't good."
Mom laughed.
"Sometimes it really pays to try new things," she said. "I really enjoyed the sesame tuna."
They were quiet for another five minutes before Mom finally called Lainey.
"Elaine, sit up sweetheart," she said.
Lainey, much to her dismay, did so.
"Ready to talk about your dad?"
Any fatigue Lainey had felt prior to those six words seemed to disappear instantly.
Lainey gave a single quick nod.
"Yeah, sure."
Mom finished the last bit of her wine and cleared her throat.
"I guess I can start off by saying that I loved Richard, very much so. And still do. I've never held any type of grudges or animosity toward your father after the divorce. I want you to know that, honey."
"Okay," Lainey said.
Mom deeply sighed and said "Your father . . . he hurt me in a way I never thought he would."
"What do you mean?" Lainey demanded.
"Let me finish, honey," Mom said. "I loved Richard. So, so . . . so much. So much that it hurt. So much that we got married and had a beautiful daughter -- started a family."
"Mom, please," Lainey said, her voice merely a whimper. She realized she was on the verge of tears, fearing what was to come. "Just tell me!"
Mom sighed again.
And said words that sucked the air out of Lainey's lungs.
"Your father had an affair, honey."