plate. When I reach the end of the buffet table, I wait for Zane and see his plate loaded with food. Guess it runs in the family, I chuckle to myself.
We head to the table where his parents and Jackie are sitting and find room for ourselves. Everyone starts asking questions about me and we answer them all.
A voice pipes up, “How can you be Rylee’s mother? Were you, like, fourteen when you had her? And where is the girls’ father—or fathers?”
These rudely asked questions came from the younger woman who had been giving me the stink-eye. Since her mother and Angélica are friends, it figures that she’s at our table. I’m astonished at her rudeness nonetheless, and Zane tenses.
“She’s a bitch and pissed Zane found you,” Jackie whispers to me. “For years, her mother has been claiming that she”—here she points at the young lady (and I use the term loosely)—“and Zane will marry and make my mother and her related through marriage. Don’t worry, Zane never went there with her. He only tolerates her for our mother.”
“Yes, I’m Rylee’s mother and no, I wasn’t fourteen when I had her. I was eighteen when I adopted her and their father passed away years ago,” I inform her politely.
I hear a soft intake of breaths at the straightforwardness of my answer.
Lisa—that’s her name—gives me the stink-eye again. “That must’ve been hard,” she simpers. “I guess now that you found Zane, you expect him to take care of you. That’s not very fair to him.”
“Lisa, shut the hell up,” Zane growls. He’s pissed and ready to explode, but I’m going to handle this. Not him.
“No, Lisa, I don’t expect Zane to take care of us. I can provide very well for my family. I may be young, but I do have a steady job and money. That car we came in”—I point to the Jeep—“is mine. That baby there is a Jeep SRT, custom ordered and terribly expensive. I paid for that. My clothes are designer and so are Rylee’s. I paid for those. With my own money that I earn workin.’ And, before his death, my husband made sure we were taken care of. He made sure that we would never suffer for money.” I jerk my thumb at myself. “I help run the company he started with his friend, The Phoenix Corporation . . . you might’ve heard of it. If not, please look it up. But, most importantly, I raised my daughters to know right from wrong, to be respectful, and to love and accept themselves. I’ve tried to be the best mother and we made it through a situation that could’ve torn my family apart. I’m gonna tell you this only once—you can say whatever you want about me but never bring my daughters into a conversation where you’re being hurtful and rude because you will not like the way I react. So, you see, I can take care of my girls and myself. Now, please tell me what you do. I’m very interested to hear about your job.”
I smile sweetly, but I really want to drag her across the backyard by her hair extensions after slapping her silly.
She’s shocked at my reply and opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. She looks like a gulping fish. Serves her right. I don’t want to sink to her level, since my momma taught me to be a lady, but if she continues to be rude to my daughters, she’ll see the mama bear I can turn into. For my girls, I’ll do anything to protect them—I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.
“I’m really sorry,” I say quietly, turning to Angélica and Julian. “I do hate to be rude but I don’t want y’all to think that I need Zane to take care of us financially. I’m pretty well off and I’m not lookin’ for a hand-out. In reality, I didn’t want to start seeing Zane. I’m not a typical woman of my age; I am a mother first and foremost. I was pretty clear with him that I came with my girls; that we were a package deal. If y’all have a problem, please let us know and we’ll leave.”
“If anyone has a problem with my woman, speak up NOW!” Zane
We head to the table where his parents and Jackie are sitting and find room for ourselves. Everyone starts asking questions about me and we answer them all.
A voice pipes up, “How can you be Rylee’s mother? Were you, like, fourteen when you had her? And where is the girls’ father—or fathers?”
These rudely asked questions came from the younger woman who had been giving me the stink-eye. Since her mother and Angélica are friends, it figures that she’s at our table. I’m astonished at her rudeness nonetheless, and Zane tenses.
“She’s a bitch and pissed Zane found you,” Jackie whispers to me. “For years, her mother has been claiming that she”—here she points at the young lady (and I use the term loosely)—“and Zane will marry and make my mother and her related through marriage. Don’t worry, Zane never went there with her. He only tolerates her for our mother.”
“Yes, I’m Rylee’s mother and no, I wasn’t fourteen when I had her. I was eighteen when I adopted her and their father passed away years ago,” I inform her politely.
I hear a soft intake of breaths at the straightforwardness of my answer.
Lisa—that’s her name—gives me the stink-eye again. “That must’ve been hard,” she simpers. “I guess now that you found Zane, you expect him to take care of you. That’s not very fair to him.”
“Lisa, shut the hell up,” Zane growls. He’s pissed and ready to explode, but I’m going to handle this. Not him.
“No, Lisa, I don’t expect Zane to take care of us. I can provide very well for my family. I may be young, but I do have a steady job and money. That car we came in”—I point to the Jeep—“is mine. That baby there is a Jeep SRT, custom ordered and terribly expensive. I paid for that. My clothes are designer and so are Rylee’s. I paid for those. With my own money that I earn workin.’ And, before his death, my husband made sure we were taken care of. He made sure that we would never suffer for money.” I jerk my thumb at myself. “I help run the company he started with his friend, The Phoenix Corporation . . . you might’ve heard of it. If not, please look it up. But, most importantly, I raised my daughters to know right from wrong, to be respectful, and to love and accept themselves. I’ve tried to be the best mother and we made it through a situation that could’ve torn my family apart. I’m gonna tell you this only once—you can say whatever you want about me but never bring my daughters into a conversation where you’re being hurtful and rude because you will not like the way I react. So, you see, I can take care of my girls and myself. Now, please tell me what you do. I’m very interested to hear about your job.”
I smile sweetly, but I really want to drag her across the backyard by her hair extensions after slapping her silly.
She’s shocked at my reply and opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. She looks like a gulping fish. Serves her right. I don’t want to sink to her level, since my momma taught me to be a lady, but if she continues to be rude to my daughters, she’ll see the mama bear I can turn into. For my girls, I’ll do anything to protect them—I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.
“I’m really sorry,” I say quietly, turning to Angélica and Julian. “I do hate to be rude but I don’t want y’all to think that I need Zane to take care of us financially. I’m pretty well off and I’m not lookin’ for a hand-out. In reality, I didn’t want to start seeing Zane. I’m not a typical woman of my age; I am a mother first and foremost. I was pretty clear with him that I came with my girls; that we were a package deal. If y’all have a problem, please let us know and we’ll leave.”
“If anyone has a problem with my woman, speak up NOW!” Zane
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