Banished to the kitchen like some kind of scullery maid, I was on dish duty while the rest of my colleagues made up for my absence.
Like a true friend, Tag kept me company whenever he went on break. His stories of the sloppy drunk ladies hitting on each other's husbands almost managed to fix my foul mood (almost).
If I wasn't in trouble, how come, Bianca, didn't have to apologize? I know the answer, of course. She was invited and I was a waitress.
Thankfully, I was released to help my colleagues clean up after the party.
Tag was helping me close down the folding tables when a familiar voice called for everyone's attention.
"Thank you, all, for making tonight a wild success!" Hyacinth's throaty voice echoed into the vaulted ceilings of the Opera House lobby. "Your tireless work to keep my guest's wine glasses full has helped us raise over three hundred thousand dollars for Serenity Rose. To show my appreciation, I'd like to tip each of you two hundred dollars."
A chorus of cheers and hoots filled the space in an enthusiastic choir.
Hyacinth Smithe makes her way around the room, handing everyone a small white envelope.
When she gets to me, she gives me a playfully shrewd look.
"Where'd you disappear to Moira?" Hyacinth's sly grin is contagious. "I was hoping to introduce you to my son."
"Kitchen duty," I duck my head.
"Oh?" Her laughter is priceless. "I heard you had a run-in with that spoiled brat, Bianca Howe."
Tag's eyes bulge out of his head at the juicy gossip.
I, however, feel terrible, because that means Mrs. Gotlieb probably had to explain to her boss why she was down one server.
"There's a little something extra in your here for having to deal with that pathetic mean girl." Hyacinth hands me an envelope.
"Thank you," I whisper while tucking it into my pocket.
Ms. Smithe nods and walks off while I remain frozen in place.
"Girl, what kind of drama did you forget to tell me about?" Tag's voice rises with every word.
"It was nothing," I shrug. "Some girl accused me of taking too long with her wine glass."
"Ugh, gross," Tag says with a melodramatic roll of his eyes. "Is that why you were in the kitchen all night?"
"Yeah," I giggle at the ridiculous face Tag is making. "Mrs. Gotlieb put me there after a handsome stranger corrected Bianca's accusations and saved my butt."
"Um, who's handsome?" Tag squeals.
"The handsome man isn't the point," I assure him.
"Look, I've spent hours listening to boring rich ladies talk about taffeta while their husbands grab my ass!" Tag complains loudly. "I need this. I need to believe in handsome princes. Give me a little fairy dust, please, girl!"
"Fine," I concede. "A handsome prince road to my aide and vanquished the evil queen Bianca. The end."
"I'm a handsome prince?" A velvety voice sends me into near cardiac arrest.
Tag and I turn simultaneously to find Will's athletic frame shaking with gentle laughter.
"No! I was just telling a story," I stammer. "I mean, yes, you are handsome, but that's not the point."
"Stop talking." Tag leans over to whisper.
"Ok," I sigh and hang my chin in embarrassment.
Once again Universe, you win.
"Well, fair maiden," Will bows and lowers his head of perfect hair. "It was my pleasure."
When our eyes meet, those annoying butterflies tickle my ribs until my face hurts from having to suppress my smile.
"It was good seeing you outside of class, Moira, but I've got to go," Will says. "I'll see you on Monday, right?"
I nod as a boyish smile lights up his face and melts my insides.
Mr. Benedict waves and departs, ignoring the stares of every woman in the room.
"What?" Tag squeaks in a hushed tone. "Did that gorgeous man say, class?"
"Yup," I start folding the table legs again. "That's my teacher."
"That man?" Tag declares in disbelief. "That exquisite example of manhood, who called you a fair maiden, is your teacher?"
"Yup."
"What are you studying?" Tag has completely forgotten about the table at this point. "His ass?"
"No!" I give him a pained look. "We need to focus!"
"Sure, what do you want to focus on?" Tag shrugs suggestively. "Oh! How about which negligée you should wear to seduce him this Monday?"
"Not helping."
"I am helping, girl," Tag scoffs, but he kneels to help me with the table, finally. "You just don't know it yet."
Two hours later, I was in the front seat of Mrs. Gotlieb's minivan as we sped toward Auburn.
"Thank you again for helping out tonight," Mrs. Gotlieb says while watching the road. "And I am really sorry about Bianca, honey. Are you doing alright?"
"I'm sorry for all the drama," I reply. "But I'm alright. I'm used to Bianca's bitchy behavior."
"Don't apologize, hon," Keri's mom shakes her head. "You know, I wish I could tell you that bullying stops when you get older, but it doesn't. People that are hurting will hurt other people, no matter how old you get."
"Good to know," I mumble, slumping into the seat.
For a while, we stared at the dashed lines of the freeway zipping through in the van's headlights.
"You know that miserable girl, Bianca, acts way too high and mighty for someone who grew up in Auburn," Mrs. Gotlieb cracks.
I nod my agreement.
"She was one of Keri's good friends when they were kids, you know," Mrs. Gotlieb continues. "They had a huge falling out in middle school. Keri says Bianca did this thing called slut-shaming. Have you heard of that?"
I nodded as my head started to spin.
When Keri found out she was pregnant in high school she confided in me that she had cheated on her longtime boyfriend, Ryan. She never told anyone who Joey's biological father was and Ryan broke up with her as soon as he found out.
The dots were connecting in my head and the picture was getting ugly.
Bianca only slut-shamed the girls that Rory slept with. Which would also explain Keri's longtime hatred for Rory.
It was staring us in the face the whole time, Rory was Joey's dad. It's mind-boggling to think that my best friend didn't tell me, but then again, it was her secret to tell (and not even her mom seemed to know the truth).
"How's your mom?" Mrs. Gotlieb asks.
"She's been doing alright!" I try and bury my shock in a smile.
"She has?" Keri's mom doesn't sound like she believes me.
"Yeah," I report. "She's been going to meetings with her counselor and she's been looking into part-time jobs."
Mrs. Gotlieb stayed quiet for so long that I started to squirm.
"Why?" I ask eventually.
"Honey, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Mrs. Gotlieb sounds like she's sorry. "And I want you to know that after I tell you this, Mr. Gotlieb and I will be here for you if you need us."
Her voice trails off as my stomach plunges into my shoes.
"You're scaring me," I mumble.
"I'm not trying to scare you, honey, I'm trying to warn you," Mrs. Gotlieb's voice cracks with emotion. "Two days ago I was running an errand in town, and I saw your mom coming out of The Blue Dart."
The silence that follows grows so big and so thick that it feels as if it's suffocating me.
The Blue Dart is a local dive bar known for being a seedy place to score. I can feel my fingernails cutting deep crescent-shaped grooves in my palm as I try and stay calm.
"Moira, honey?" Mrs. Gotlieb sounds really upset.
Rationally, I know I should be grateful for what Mrs. Gotlieb is telling me. It's coming from a place of love for me and my mom.
Inside, however, I'm battling the urge to scream at Keri's mom. I want to scream at anyone unfortunate enough to be near me.
After all those months of sobriety, after all the promises she made, after all the crying, and the fighting, and all of the hard work it took to help my mom, I have to find out from a family friend that it meant nothing.
I can't tell what's worse, the fear of what's going to happen to my mom, or the fact that she's lied (again).
"Do you want to talk about it?" Keri's mom asks.
A gentle pattering of rain taps the windshield.
"No," I repeat, staring out at the water streaking down the glass and wishing I could just cry.