“Shit,” I mutter, knowing full well that I can’t send my mother away and thankful we don’t have any of our spare bedrooms except for one available.
“Rob, go in the room by the garage and mess up the bed or something. I’m not letting my mom stay here.”
I walk into the house with Rob and Joey on my heels. Joey is standing next to me when I pick up the phone. Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“You can let her in,” I tell the guard.
“Sure thing, Mr. Wilson.” He hangs up, sealing my fate. I lean against the table and inhale and exhale deeply, trying to calm my nerves.
“Is she that bad?” Joey rubs my shoulder, and while her touch usually calms me, it’s not doing much to push my anxiety away.
I nod.
“If we handled Jules, this should be easy, right?”
“She’s like Jules on crack,” I groan.
“Oh.”
Pulling Joey into my arms, I hold her as tightly as I can until the doorbell rings. Rob walks by, muttering something as he heads back outside.
“My parents don’t know about you, unless they watched the show. I meant to tell them, but you’ll see why I didn’t once you meet her. My father is just as bad, but in a different way. All they want is money, or the fame that goes with being ‘Joshua Wilson’s’ parents. I can’t remember how many times they’ve been remarried, but I know it’s over five.”
“You told me in the house.”
“Right.” I nod, taking her hand in mine. We walk the few steps to the front door. “Oh, and she wears nothing but gold and diamonds. They’re mostly
fake, but she doesn’t care. God you’re beautiful,” I tell her before I kiss her.
Joey shocks me by reaching for the door. She swings it open as I stand behind her. My mother is looking away until she hears the door and turns slowly, taking in Joey before her eyes rise to meet mine.
“Did she sign a pre-nup?” My mother doesn’t wait to be invited in. No, she brushes past Joey, bumping into her as if she’s not standing right there.
I chuckle bitterly to myself and shake my head. Some things never change.
“Are you stupid? Is that how I raised you?” She holds her arm out toward us, indicating to the shawl draped over it, and eyes Joey.
“She’s not your maid, Mother.”
She scoffs. “I’m her mother-in-law.”
“Only on paper,” I say, hoping to remind her of where she stands in my life. It’s a shame, but not uncommon, for parents of actors to act like this. They have expectations that aren’t often met and expect to control every aspect of their child’s life. I think it kills my mother that she’s never been in control of my money.
“Well on paper I am everything to you.” My mother eyes me defiantly and I find it comical.
Joey leans into me for moral support—or maybe to remind me that if I kill my mother I will no longer know what it feels like to have Joey touch me, given that I’ll be behind bars for murder.
“To answer your question, no I’m not stupid, and considering you didn’t raise me I think I’ll leave that question alone. As for what’s on paper, you’re no longer the beneficiary on any of my accounts, Joey is and that isn’t going to change any time soon.” It feels damn good to say that to her and watch her face morph into something very few have seen.
“What about your father?”
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her question. Always trying to one up him, or telling me that if I do something for him I have to do it for her.
“He’s not either. Now tell me, who can I thank for your unfortunate arrival?”
“Josh,” Joey chides. Even after the backhanded comment my mother made about her, she’s still wants me to be nice. Unfortunately, I don’t care enough about my mother’s feelings to really give a shit.
“Yes, maybe you should listen to your wife about how you speak to me.”