Fill Me (17 page)

Alyssa turns to me with a glare. "You didn't tell me about this."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," I say.

She takes a seat next to me, pressing her legs against mine. Our eyes connect again, but I can't place her expression.

I turn back to Barbara. "Wasn't Alyssa wonderful?"

"Oh, yes." Barbara nods and sips her drink.

This is her fourth glass of wine.

"How was your trip, Mom?" Alyssa asks. She turns her gaze to her menu, somehow lost in the description of a salad entrée.

"Fine," Barbara says.

"And you enjoyed the play?"

"You know I'm not a theater person, Alyssa."

"We don't need to have this conversation," Alyssa says. She buries her head further in her menu. Presses her fingertips flat against the pages.

There's a long silence. Apparently these two have absolutely nothing to say to each other.

It's broken by a server. She grins. "Oh my God, you're Alyssa Summers, aren't you?"

Alyssa looks up from the menu with exhaustion. "Yeah."

"I love your show. It's so funny. My roommate and I watch it together every week!"

That gets Alyssa to smile. It's a real smile, and it brightens the whole damn room. "Thank you. That's very kind of you to say."

The server squeals. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask for an autograph."

Alyssa laughs. Under the table, she squeezes my hand. Her fingers are so soft and warm. It feels like everything could be okay.

"I'll see what I can do," Alyssa says. "But, until then, how about tequila on the rocks? A double. And a wedge of lime if it's not too much trouble."

"No, not at all." The server squeals again. She almost jumps up and down as she looks at me. She clearly wants to say something, but she doesn't. "Are you guys ready to order your food as well?"

"Mom? Do you want to go first?"

The server nearly drops her notepad, but she manages to keep it together long enough to write down all our orders and collect our menus. More drinks all around, especially for Mom.

Alyssa turns to me, squeezing my hand tighter. "You think she'll freak if I offer to leave tickets and a signed playbill at will call?"

"She might faint."

Alyssa smiles. "I'm going to say she's barely eighteen. God damn, I would have been just as excited to see... whoever the me equivalent is."

Barbara clears her throat. "I hope that young lady is in school."

Alyssa doesn't reply. I guess she knows better.

"She has a long time to figure out what she wants," I say. I run my fingers over Alyssa's hand to feel for her engagement ring. It's there. More of that weight lifts off my chest. Everything will be okay, even if this reunion turns into a nightmare.

"Well, I hope she's using contraception."

"Mom!"

"She's not going to figure out what she wants if she gets knocked up."

Alyssa turns her attention to her napkin.

"You should warn her," I say. "In case she doesn't realize the dangers of unprotected sex."

Alyssa stifles a laugh and squeezes my hand tighter.

The silence lasts until our server returns with drinks. Thank God. They could not be here soon enough.

I raise my drink to offer a toast. "To reunions."

They repeat it weakly, and we take long sips of our respective drinks. I wink at Alyssa as I slip my lips around the straw.

She shakes her head. Apparently my charms are not working.

I lean towards her, much closer than is socially acceptable in a nice place like this. And I press my lips against hers, soaking in the taste of her lips, her chapstick, her tequila.

"I missed you," I whisper so softly that only she can hear it.

She nods, a look in her eyes that says she missed me too. "I'm going to kill you for this." It's a whisper, even softer than mine.

"I'll let you two catch up."

The bathroom is around a nearby corner and down a long hallway. Damn wine went straight through me. I check my phone. Sometimes, in these kinds of circumstance, Alyssa will send a stealth text. "Get me the hell out of here" or "I'm faking an emergency in twenty minutes."

Today, there's nothing. I roll my shoulders back. This is a good thing.

I'm in the hallway, about to round the corner, when I hear Alyssa.

"Mom, you're being ridiculous."

"What did you think that boy was after? He was so sweet to you--always driving you home, taking you to dances. Didn't he buy your dresses?"

"Because his family has money and ours doesn't."

"You knew he was in love with you," Barbara says.

"If he was in love with me, he would have said so. Ryan was never shy like that."

"He's good-looking. Don't you think?"

"He had his chance," Alyssa says. "I'd rather not rehash this. It's already on TMZ."

"You're not a rock, sweetie. You need a rock. Someone dependable. Like Ryan."

Alyssa groans. "I'm with Luke. And you have no right to tell me how to live my life. Not when you haven't spoken to me in three years."

"Was it a sexual problem?"

"Mom! No. He was fine, but he was only fine."

"You know, your father was great in bed. Best sex of my life. Do you see where that got me?"

"Yes, if only you'd never decided to have a child. Maybe he'd still be around and you wouldn't have to deal with me."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Alyssa

Luke steps around the corner, a pleasant expression on his face. Fuck. If he heard that...

I dig my nails into my wrist. It's fine. He invited my mother. I told him I wanted nothing to do with her and he still sprang this fun family reunion on me.

Deep breath. It's not that bad. Boyfriends meet mothers, even estranged, clueless mothers who are trapped in the past.

It's not like Luke isn't aware Ryan is the only person who ever cared about me. Before him at least.

Mom stops her bullshit suggestions and returns to her wine, drinking it like it's my supposedly so-great-at-sex father. That's not a detail I need.

She looks Luke over like he's a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, a greaser with a motorcycle and a leather jacket. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so ridiculous. Luke is a lawyer.

He's even wearing a suit. His hair is neat. I'm sure he's been polite and charming. He always is.

Mom shakes her head. She disapproves.

Acid churns in my stomach. I shouldn't care if she disapproves. She's been out of my life forever now, and I have no intention of bringing her back into it.

Luke offers his hand and I take it. It's such a little thing, but it's so much, too much all at once. I'm glad I'm sitting, because there's no way I could stand. I miss him, I love him, I hate him.

Mostly, I want to drag him to the bathroom, rip off his clothes, and lick every inch of his perfect body until he's screaming so loudly the whole damn restaurant can hear it.

It's been so long since he's been next to me, and we haven't had a hint of foreplay since my last meltdown. No pictures, no Skype, not even a few dirty texts.

Nothing except me and my memories in the cold, empty bed.

"Mom wants to know how you met Ryan," I say. That ought to keep them busy for a while. For long enough that I can polish off my double.

Luke smirks. So he heard some of that conversation.

But he plays along. "It's not a very interesting story. He wanted to form a law firm. I was the only other family practice lawyer he knew. The only competent one at least. So magic happened."

Mom snickers. So she's had more than these two drinks. It figures. I never blamed her when I was a kid--she worked hard and worked late and hey, there was always food in the fridge--but enough is enough.

"I'm sure," Luke says, "you're really more interested in how I ended up with Alyssa."

"It's none of my business."

At least she's trying to be polite. It must be the second glass of wine. When she's sober, she's mean. Or she was. It has been forever since we've spoken.

Luke squeezes my hand as he flashes my mother a million-dollar smile. "It's not complicated. You see, your daughter is irresistible."

"She gets the point," I say. I don't need him going over the lurid details of our first few encounters.

Mom may be glad to tell me that my father was great in bed, but I don't wish to tell her that my fiancé is a fucking sex god. Even if it's the only thing that would derail this conversation long enough for me to slip out the back entrance.

"Ryan cared for you," Mom says.

"Ryan is a fucking asshole."

"How can you say that, Alyssa? He was always sweet to you."

"When we were both teenagers," I say. The acid churns in my throat. Fucking recovered bulimia acid reflux bullshit. "And sometimes even when he was in law school. But he wasn't like that later. Not after my..." I bite my tongue. I've never told her about my eating disorder, and I'm not about to start now. "Not after he started working. It was all about him, his career, what he wanted."

Mom shakes her head like there's no way this could be true. "He would have taken care of you."

"Yeah, well I don't need that kind of taking care of."

"Do you really think you can be an actress forever?"

I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. It's not her fault. She's been checked out for a long time.

"Yes, well. Luke has a lot more money than Ryan does."

That shuts her up. I look over at Luke. He's beaming, of course. Anything that compares him favorably to Ryan.

"A lot more," I say. "Probably ten times as much."

I look at Luke to confirm my hypothesis. I've seen his bank statement before, but we never really talk numbers.

He nods, unable to hide his smile. Damn, he still has such a gorgeous, earnest smile.

"I wouldn't put it in such aggressive terms," he says.

This is a hell of a time to back out of boasting.

"What terms would you put it in?" I ask.

"You still have no manners, Miss Summers."

I turn towards my mother. She's just sitting there, barely taking all this in.

"Yes, well, my parents must not have raised me well," I say.

"Ally..."

For once, Luke's voice is desperate. Needy.

So he'd prefer I not treat my mother like this. Too fucking bad. She spent most of my life ignoring me. I'm not going to take any bullshit from her now.

Hell, if I'm in, I might as well go all in.

"Since you're so comfortable telling me about my absent father's sexual prowess, I may as well return the favor," I say. "Luke is much better than Ryan was."

My mother shakes her head. She's already made herself clear--sex is really no motivation for a relationship in her eyes.

She's already convinced I should still be with Ryan. Nothing will change her mind, but...

I turn towards her. "Ryan wasn't exactly... giving. Luke, on the other hand."

"Ally, this isn't necessary," Luke says.

Damn. I've never seen him back out of bragging about his sex skills. He must really want this reunion.

I fold my arms. Fuck what either of them wants. I'm done doing what other people want.

"And he's bigger too," I say.

It barely registers with my mother, but Luke lights up. God, I'm not going to live that one down.

"You've made your point." Mom taps the table. Her only move after she's finished her drink.

I suck the last drop of tequila from my glass, then move on to Luke's. It's sweet and salty and it tastes like his lips.

"If you want to talk about something besides what a mess my life is, we can continue this conversation. Otherwise--" I fish my wallet out of my purse and take out three hundred-dollar bills. "Here's cab fare back to Massachusetts."

I throw the money in her face. She frowns. "You're making a scene."

"That's my money, you know. Money I earned from acting. And, guess what--my fucking show is coming back for another season, and I'll make even more money. More than Ryan does even."

She just shakes her head. There's no reason to bother. She's not here, not really. She doesn't have it in her to understand me.

I try to push myself out of my seat but Luke grabs me.

I bring my eyes towards his, shaking off his arm. "She was insulting you!"

"I've heard worse."

"Yeah, well I put up with enough of this bullshit when I was with Ryan." I hold my mother's gaze for a moment. "You had what you wanted for a while. We were together and was I good little housewife in training. Ready to become absolutely empty the way you are."

"Alyssa!" Luke yells. His hand clamps around my wrist. "You don't mean that."

"Are you listening? I don't deal with people who tell me what I mean." I step back and suck in a deep breath. My heart is pounding against my chest.

He stands up and wraps his arm around my waist. It's possessive, yes, but not like he's going to force me to stay. "Are you sure you want to go?"

I nod. "I'll pay the check first. With the money I earned acting."

I glare at my mother again, but she's too fucking drunk to even care.

"Did you even watch the play?" I ask.

She shrugs like it's nothing.

I shake my head, breaking free of Luke's grasp. Our server is in the corner, watching with her jaw hanging open. I move towards her and hand her two more hundred-dollar bills.

"Keep the change."

"But, Miss Summers. That's so generous."

I turn to leave, but I stop myself. "Wait. What's your name?"

"Daria Sanders."

"What's your night off?"

"Tuesday."

"I'll leave tickets for you at will call for next Tuesday. Don't miss it, okay? We're going into our last week."

She gasps, her hand going to her mouth. "That's so... thank you. Should I write my name down?"

"Okay." I nod, and lean in towards her. "Could you just keep this all to yourself?"

"Of course! I hate those paparazzi assholes. I can't believe the way they were spying on you and your new boyfriend." Her eyes go to my engagement ring and she squeals again. "Is he really as good as you were saying?"