I don't like board games. I may stock a wide variety in my store and I may play them with my kids a couple times a month, but I don't care for them. I lack the competitive streak necessary to make them fun, I think – I don't have that burning desire to win and I'd rather read a book or watch a movie than spend hours playing some infuriating game with convoluted rules that inevitably ends with one of my kids in a grump.
But watching Annie makes it worth it. The moment we sit down on the floor around the coffee table – me with my back against the sofa for support – her entire demeanor shifts, her game face on. I watch with a smile as she counts out the cash that Hannah had already laid out for us by the time we got home a half hour ago. Our drink at Deer & Pine turned into two, and it was hard to tear ourselves away from the heat of the fire.
The house was oddly quiet when Annie and I stepped into the hallway, covered in snow after a ten minute walk in a growing blizzard. I walked to meet Annie after her shift, assuming she'd driven, only to find out her dad had dropped her off. We got home shivering and Hannah emerged from the living room, where she'd set up the game, and told us that Otto was reading Ava to sleep. My heart often swells with love for my kids, and that was one of those moments where I felt it might burst.
It's finger food for dinner today. Things we can pick at as we play: fries and the dinosaur nuggets Hannah loves; carrot and cucumber sticks and hummus; plum tomatoes and chips and dip. I lay it all out on the table alongside the Monopoly board and dunk a cucumber stick in the hummus.
"You look very serious," Otto says to Annie, whose thick eyebrows are pulled together in an adorable little scrunch above her nose.
"Monopoly is a serious business. I'm trying to remember your weaknesses."
Otto laughs. "From when I was seven? Hate to break it to you, Annie, but I've only gone from strength to strength since then."
"Your arrogance will be your downfall," she says. "Any house rules?"
"If you have to pay any kind of tax, you put the money in the middle and if you land on free parking, you take it all," Otto says. "Um ... we don't do the whole thing where we go round the board once before we can buy properties. If you want to do deals with other players, you have to do it during your go."
"What about if you land on the same square someone else is already on? In my family, that means we can kick them off to jail if we want to."
"We do that too," Hannah says. "I think it's mean, though."
Otto shrugs and says, "That's just the game, Han."
"Alrighty then. Youngest goes first. You're up, Han." Annie rolls the dice towards Hannah.
Otto gasps and says, "So that's why you insisted on sitting to Hannah's left. You wanted to go second!"
Annie winks. Something tells me she's going to be a ruthless player. I may not like the game, but I think this is going to be fun.
"Mo-om," Otto whines, as though he's several years younger than he is. "Switch with me. I don't want to go last."
Sitting opposite Annie and getting to watch her is as good as sitting next to her so I pick up my wine glass and my plate and shuffle around to sit between my children. Hannah rolls five and immediately buys Reading Railroad. Annie's up next: she blows on the dice for good luck before rolling double threes and snaps up Oriental Avenue and her second roll lands her on Connecticut Avenue. In one fell swoop, she has two thirds of the light blue properties.
"Shit," Otto mutters. "The dice like you."
She gives him a broad grin and says, "I'm very likable."
I raise my glass. I should probably have more to eat before I finish my third glass of wine because it's already going to my head. "Cheers to that."
"Ew, Mom."
"Seriously, Otto?" I shake my head at him. "How is that ew? Are you saying Annie isn't likable?"
"No, I'm just ... never mind," he grumbles, rolling the dice into the middle of the board. A three and a one, which lands him on income tax. He grumbles more as he throws two hundred bucks into the center.
"Hey. Don't be a grumpy cat," I say, nudging him with my toe. "No sore losers in this house, okay?" I take the dice off him and laugh when I throw the exact same roll and move my counter to the income tax square, nudging Otto's piece to the edge. "What'll it be? Am I kicking you to jail already, or are you going to stop being immature about the fact that your mom's seeing someone?"
"Sorry," he says, looking away.
"I know your dad's had girlfriends since we split up," I say, holding up the game for a moment when I'm struck by the sudden fear that my son might be uncomfortable with my queerness. "Are you rude to them, too, or is it because we're both women?"
Annie's eyebrows jump up to her hairline. Otto goes bright red.
"No! Mom, no, I'm not homophobic, jeez!" he cries out. His shock at my tentative accusation makes me feel better.
"Otto always says ew," Hannah says. "Even when Dad just talked about going on a date with Cindy last week."
"So you're just being immature?" I ask. He's still beet red as he nods and busies himself with a handful of fries.
"He's jealous," Hannah says with a cheeky grin. She turns to her brother and says, "Stop being mean to Mom just because she can get a girlfriend and you can't!"
"Hey. Don't be a dick, Han," Otto says.
"This is refreshing," Annie says, loading up a chip with guacamole. "Usually it's the game that causes the family arguments."
"We're not arguing," he protests, lifting sheepish eyes to me. "Sorry, Mom. I swear, I'm not homophobic. I don't care that you have a girlfriend. It's just, you know, kinda gross in general when parents date."
"It's not gross, it's nice!" Hannah cries out. "Mom's happy!"
Annie lifts her eyes to mine and gives me a small smile that I return. I wish I'd kept my mouth shut. Instead I take another sip of wine and pass the dice to Hannah.
"I won't send you to jail," I say to Otto, putting my tax money in the middle. I take a vaguely dino-shaped chicken nugget and dunk it in ranch dressing. Something to soak up the wine. "But you have to stop saying ew. It's childish."
"Okay. Sorry, Mom." He glances at Annie. "Sorry, Annie."
She flaps a hand and takes another chip. "No biggie."
"And I could totally get a girlfriend if I wanted one," he says to Hannah, who shrugs as if to say whatever.
"Let's not derail the evening so early," I say. "It's your turn, Han."
Nobody rocks the boat for the next hour, and Otto perks up once his luck turns around and he manages to get all three of the orange properties. I'm failing miserably – I got my hands on both of the browns and a couple of other random pieces, but I'm certainly not going to win. He doesn't say ew when I get up to open a second bottle of wine and I kiss Annie her when I lean over her shoulder to top up her glass, my hand on her back for balance. I'm still standing when there's a knock at the door.
"It's a bit late for visitors," Hannah says. I don't miss it when she lands on one of my properties but I'm distracted by the door and she hurriedly presses the dice into Annie's hand, urging her to roll before I ask for rent.
I have definitely had more to drink than I should have. My head swims when I turn around too fast and I have to take a moment to steady myself before I open the door. And then I'm sure I'm hallucinating, because on the other side is my mom. An entire week of ignoring me, and now she's on my snow-covered doorstep.
"Mom?"
"It's freezing out here," she says in lieu of a greeting. "Can I come in?"
I should say no. I should turn her away. But I'm a bit tipsy, my head not screwed on straight when I open the door wider and say, "Sure."
She steps into the hall and shakes the snow off her coat.
"Um. Why are you here?" I ask when the moment sinks in. "You never replied to my text."
"I thought you needed some time to calm down," she says. "I was shocked by your message, but I understand that you were lashing out in a moment of emotion so I thought it best to keep my distance."
I frown at her. "I know I was rude," I say, "but the sentiment remains the same. You were way out of order, the way you treated Annie."
"Honestly, Laurel, I don't understand why you associate with someone like her." She starts to take off her coat but the bitter dismissal in her voice sobers me up and I put out a hand to stop her.
"Mom. Why are you here?"
"I thought we could talk. Rationally."
"And you couldn't have called first? It's eight o'clock on a Saturday. I'm in the middle of something."
As if on cue, Hannah calls out, "Mom! It's your turn!"
My mother ignores my question and steps past me, into the living room, and I almost run into her back when she stops still in the doorway, staring at the scene before her.
"Hi Grandma!" Hannah says, grinning up at us. "We're having game night. Mom didn't say you were coming."
Annie is pale-face and wide-eyed. Her stare flicks from me to my mom and back again, her fight or flight instinct getting stuck on freeze.
"Hello, sweetheart," Mom says to Hannah, soft as butter. "I didn't know you were having a game night. I just wanted to come over for a chat with your mommy."
I wrinkle my nose. Neither Hannah nor Otto have called me Mommy in years and it sounds so condescending coming out of Mom's mouth.
"It's a bit late for you to join the game but you can play with me if you want?" Hannah asks, scooting over to make space.
"No, that's okay, sweetheart. I'm just going to borrow my daughter for a moment," she says.
"But Mom, it's your go!"
"Roll for me, hon, I'll be right back," I say.
The smile my mother offers my children is so sweet, so loving; the grandma version of Christine Miller is so unlike the mom that I know. Great for my kids. Pretty fucking shitty for me. I shoot a panicked look at Annie and lead Mom to the kitchen, away from prying ears, and I open my mouth to ask her to leave but she gets there first.
"What is she doing here?" she hisses under her breath. "I came over to make amends with you, Laurel, and here you are, sleeping with the enemy."
She has no idea how accurate that is. Except: "Annie's not the enemy, Mom, what the hell are you talking about?"
"I told you I wasn't comfortable with her being around my grandchildren after the way she spoke to me in front of Ava," Mom says, pure fury in her eyes, her words so sharp I have to step back. "Now she's part of your little game night? Worming her way into our family through a game of Monopoly?"
I stare at her, slack-jawed. "What has gotten into you?"
"I don't like her," she says, plain and simple, folding her arms.
"Annie introduced my kids to Monopoly. She's been babysitting since Christian and I broke up," I say, almost losing my balance when I adjust my stance, "so she's not worming her way anywhere, and this is my family, not ours."
There are footsteps behind us. I whip around, hoping it's not Hannah coming to pull me back to the game. It's not. It's Annie, rosy-cheeked from the wine.
"Hey. Can't help but feel like I'm part of this," she says, coming to stand by my side. I'm glad to have her next to me, but I dread whatever bullshit my mom's about to spew.
"Hi," I say quietly.
"You are not part of anything," Mom says.
"Um. Well. You're arguing about me, so forgive me for being misled," Annie says. "Listen, I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the garden center. I was out of order. You took me by surprise and I didn't know who you were, and I snapped when I thought you were trying to kidnap Ava. So, yeah. Sorry."
The apology takes Mom by surprise. She's all geared up for a fight and Annie just blew the wind out of her sails. After an awkward moment, she says a tight little, "Thank you."
Annie's so close to me that my body acts on instinct, my hand finding hers, and my beady-eyed mother doesn't miss a trick. She steps back, her eyes narrowing, and my gut churns.
"Mom," I say, before she can break my heart for once and for all, "I really don't want my kids to lose a grandparent. I don't want to cut you out of their lives because I know you're a different person with them and they love you, but every word out of your mouth to me is judgmental or rude and I can't take it. And you've been nothing but horrible to Annie when all she did was defend the child she was looking after from someone she didn't know. You were way out of line, trying to grab Ava off her."
Mom's face pinches, her lips pursed. "Alright," she says. "I may have been a tad ... abrupt."
Annie snorts. Mom's expression gets even more pinched.
"But that doesn't excuse the way she spoke to me in front of your child."
"She literally just apologized to you, and also, I don't give a fuck!" I cry out, like a wind-up toy that has finally been released. "I really, really don't give a fucking fuck that Annie swore in front of Ava, Mom, I really fucking don't, okay? You know what I care about? I care about the fact that my own mother seems to hate me for no good reason that I can see, and I care about my children because no matter what you say, I am a fucking good mom. And I care about Annie." My grip on her hand tightens. She squeezes right back. "I have cared about Annie for a long fucking time."
Another set of footsteps. I freeze before I look over my shoulder to see Otto standing there, leaning against the kitchen table.
"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" he asks. Shit. I didn't mean to yell so loud. Mortification sinks in. I have always tried to keep my problems with my mom to myself, so my kids can form their own opinions.
"Always bad news first," Annie says, jumping in when I can't find my words. "Rip off the bandaid and all that."
"Okay. Bad news: I think Hannah might have a hearing problem," he says. "Good news: she's unaware of this little domestic. I told her you're talking about Christmas presents."
I mouth thank you to him. He gives me a small smile.
"Is everything okay?" he asks. I don't know what to say to that. No, everything isn't okay, but it's nothing new. Although I just came out to my mom, and either she's ignoring it or she doesn't understand.
There is a little less ice in my mother's voice when she says, "You think I hate you?"
"Uh, I'm gonna go back to the living room," Otto says. "Annie, you coming?"
She looks at me. I nod, silently saying I've got this, and she lets go of my hand, following my son.
"Maybe hate is a strong word," I admit once they're gone, "but you certainly don't radiate love. You treat me like an inconvenience and an idiot and I can't take it, Mom. You make me feel so horrible about myself. I think I've done pretty well in life, all things considered, but then I spend five minutes with you and I feel like shit."
Mom frowns like this is all news to her. "I don't hate you, Laurel. You're my daughter. I hate that you think I hate you."
"Could you try acting like it, then? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me, you know. I know I'm all grown up now but it's still nice to hear sometimes."
She unfolds her arms and lets them hang by her sides. "I ... I'm sorry. I do love you, Laurel. you're my child. Of course I love you."
I never thought I'd hear the words. Tears spring to my eyes. I furiously blink them away. "I know you don't approve of my life, I know you don't like that I choose to work and you've made it abundantly clear that you think I'm some kind of hussy for having Ava, but none of that is going to change," I say. My voice is shaking. So are my hands. I've never had a face to face confrontation like this. "This is who I am. I love my job and yes, I had a baby out of wedlock, and I'm dating Annie. If you can't be okay with all of that, then I don't want you to be around my children."
"You're dating." Her voice is flat. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
"Yes. I love Annie. I hope she's going to be in my life for a long time."
"You love her? You've never even mentioned her name to me. How long has it even been?" She struggles to keep the judgment out of her voice. It's her natural state. I mentally give her a point for being more concerned about the length of my relationship than my bisexuality.
"Eight years," I say. It's like she's been slapped, the way her jaw drops and her eyes fly open.
"Eight years?"
"We fell in love when Christian and I were in the thick of our divorce," I say, holding onto the counter for support. "Life got in the way and we couldn't be together then but we are now. So I mean it when I tell you that if you can't accept Annie, I can't have you around."
"This is ... a lot," Mom says.
"Go home. Think on it," I say.
She nods slowly. I hate that she needs the time, that she has to think on it, that she can't immediately say that she wants to stay in my life no matter what. It stings like a thousand papercuts, and I have to use every last energy reserve not to break down in the kitchen when Mom pulls her coat back on and walks to the front door. She hesitates with her hand on the handle.
"We'll talk soon," she says, and I hope that's a good sign. I nod, and she walks out into the snow, and I do my best Emma Thompson in Love Actually – blink away my emotions, fan my face, and paint on a smile to return to my family.
"Whose turn is it?" I ask brightly, taking a too-large swig of wine as I sit down between Otto and Hannah once more.
"Mine," Hannah says. "I rolled for you again and you landed on the tax so I put your money in the middle."
"Gee, thanks, Han." I ruffle her hair and she grins at me. She really doesn't have a clue what just went down. Thank god for that. Otto, on the other hand, eyes me cautiously as though I'm about to crumble. When Hannah's not looking, I hold my hand up in the okay sign and he nods. I breathe in deeply and let it out slowly.
The game goes on for another two hours. I'm the first to go out, when I land on one of Otto's hotel-covered properties and I can't even cover half of the rent. Hannah's next, bankrupted by the Annie-owned Atlantic Avenue. I move to the sofa, a more comfortable place to watch the rest of the game, and Hannah joins me. She lies with her head in my lap and I am soothed by stroking her hair, teasing free the occasional knot as we watch the bitter battle to the death between Annie and Otto.
They wheel and deal and dodge and dive until, at last, after Otto's already had to sell half of the hotel empire he's built up over the last three hours, he lands on Park Place and there's no way out. Annie claps and crows and jumps to her feet to dance. I stopped drinking after my mom left. Annie did not.
"Hell yeah! I've still got it in me. Suck on that, Otto Jacobs."
Otto stands and holds out his hand. "Good game, Annabelle. Good game. But it won't be our last. I will beat you."
"But not tonight," I interject, before Annie can challenge him to an immediate rematch. "It's past bedtime for all of us. Come on, Han. Time to head upstairs."
She yawns and unfurls herself from my lap and doesn't protest. It's after ten and I don't know about anyone else, but I'm drained. While Annie packs away the game – winner tidies up, another house rule that Otto informs her of as he heads to his room – I pull back the curtain to check on the snow. There's a blanket of white outside, at least a few inches deep already.
"I don't care what you say, you're staying here tonight," I tell her.
"I won't argue with that," Annie says. She puts the lid on the box and slides it onto the shelf under the coffee table. "How are you? That was pretty intense, with your mom."
"Yeah."
"You really stood up to her," she says softly, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around me, her chin on my shoulder.
"Maybe too much," I say.
"If the truth is too much, then maybe that's for the best." Her voice is a soft murmur. "Thank you for sticking up for me."
"Of course." I turn my head to the side, my cheek brushing hers. "Now come to bed with me."
Once I've checked on Ava and kissed Hannah goodnight and asked Otto to stay up too late, I crawl into bed with Annie for the first time in ... ever.
"You never stayed the night before," I say when I turn off my bedside light and we're lit only by the glow of the moon, its dim light reflecting off the snow.
"I've wanted to sleep in this bed for a long time," Annie says. She's facing the window, the moonlight softening her already soft features, painting her blonde hair honey gold. I push her hair off her face and kiss her, my hand resting on the curve of her shoulder under the neckline of her borrowed pajamas.
"I love you," I say quietly. I've lost track of whether or not I've said that to her. I know there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I withheld those words the first time around, but I don't want to be that person.
"I love you too," she whispers, her blue eyes the color of the ocean at night in this light. "I heard what you said earlier."
"What part?"
"Well, all of it," she says. "I was eavesdropping. Had to make sure your mom wasn't talking shit about me, of course."
"Of course." I can help but smile at her sweet face, even if a knife twists in my chest when I think about my mom.
"You said you want me in your life for a long time."
"I did. I do," I say, holding her gaze. "I watched you leave once. I can't go through that again."
"Bearing that in mind," she says, "is it too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend?"
My lips tug into a wider smile. "Oh, absolutely. Far too soon."
Annie inches closer. She waits a moment. "Now?"
"Still too soon."
She shuffles closer. So close that her nose brushes mine, our knees touching beneath the covers. When I try to focus on her face, my eyes cross and she shifts between blur and clarity. She's smiling. Her smile is so pretty, her mouth so soft when she kisses me and lets the moment linger, our lips a mere millimeter apart. "How about now?"
"Now is good," I say, my breath hitching.
Her lips brush mine when she says, "Will you be my girlfriend?"
"I suppose."
"You suppose? You suppose? You wound me, Laurel." Annie throws herself onto her back with a dramatic sigh, and she resists when I try to pull her back to me. "You shouldn't suppose, you should know."
I crawl across the space between us and, with my winter comforter around my shoulders, I sit on her thighs and lean down to kiss her. I pull the covers over our heads, plunging us into darkness as we kiss. "I know, Annie," I whisper between kisses. "I fucking know."
She wraps her arms around me and manages to get on top, pushing me onto my back, and she giggles when tries to lean over me but she loses balance and her whole weight drops on top of me. When I gasp, she presses her mouth to mine and steals my breath, and I cling to her. I won't let her go again.
*
nothing like a game of monopoly to start fights! hope you enjoyed this chapter!