Page 36 of Meet Cute Reboot
“You have to stop cutting them off like that.”
“No one wants to see this,” Luke says. “Trust me.”
“See what?” Cecilia Curtis says as she walks over to us, vodka tonic in hand, white flowing skirt trailing behind her. Korg sniffs the hem of her dress.
“No one wants to watch my drunk mother skulk aroundmyhouse like a ghost,” Luke says. “It’s dark in here. You could have turned on the lights.” He walks over to the doorway and flips on the recessed lights.
“Why would anyone see me?” Cecilia says.
“We were doing an Instagram Live,” Luke answers.
“That’s what all the commotion was about?”
“Why are you drinking, Mom?”
“Your father called.”
“I get that, but why did a conversation with Dad drive you to drink? Wait.” Luke rests his hand on my forearm. “I’m not sure you should hear this.”
I definitely shouldn’t hear this, but Luke’s mom is between me and my phone. Maybe I should just leave it on the couch and make a run for it. I can always buy a new phone.
“That’s whatyoudo when you’re sulking about Cassie,” Cecilia says, her voice wobbly. “You get drunk and spill your guts.”
I feel my eyes go wide. Warning bells go off in my head, and I’m pretty sure an “Abort” sign flashes on my forehead in bright red capital letters.
“Mother,” Luke growls. He narrows his eyes at his mother and tips his head toward me.
Cecilia and I lock eyes and recognition lights her face. “Cassie! He won you back! I’m so happy. Come in for a hug.”
My body feels like it’s slowly oozing to the floor. If I don’t get out of this house now, I’m going to sink into a pile of mortification.
Cecelia approaches enthusiastically and I have no choice but to catch her. Her bony arms wrap around me like we’re long-lost besties, which we most definitely aren’t. When Luke and I weredating, we went to Chicago a couple of times a year, once for an overnight weekend. I’ve seen her, like, seven times max?
She lets go of me and veers toward Luke, arms outstretched and ice tinkling in her glass. “I told you she’d take you back. How could she not? Just look at that face.” Cecelia squeezes Luke’s cheeks between her thumb and forefinger and then she encircles him with her arms, first looking up at him and then resting her temple on his chest. A moment later, her nose crinkles and she takes an abrupt step back. Vodka splashes out of her glass and onto the floor.
“You need a shower, son. Right now. Go upstairs.”
“No, Mom. I’m not—”
“Go. You’re stinking up the place. Cassie’s not going to snuggle with you when you’re smelling like that.”
My cheeks flare with heat.
Luke glances at me nervously and then refocuses on his mother. He rests his hands on her shoulders. “You’re drunk, Mother.”
“This house has eight bathrooms. Pick one.” She escapes his grip and shoos him away. “Go on. It’ll only take five minutes. Clean yourself up. Cassie and I can talk about old times.”
“I am not—” Luke shakes his head and wags his finger between me and his mother. “Nope.”
“Fine. You never listen to your mother.” Cecelia hobbles into the kitchen with us in tow. She starts opening cabinets, rummaging through Luke’s food.
“What are you doing?” Luke asks.
“I need more booze.”
“No,” Luke says emphatically. “You don’t.”
“If I’m going to have sex with your dad, trust me, I need more booze.” She continues rummaging.