“Oh, you mean, like Darlene?” I cut in, scoffing. “The one who went to your dad and told him everything your mom used to confide to her? Yeah, great friend that one was. Or Georgina, who your dad told your mom she shouldn’t be friends with anymore? Or Paula, who fucked your dad behind your mom’s back?”
Ethan’s mouth fell open. “Paula didn’t…wait! How do you even know those names?”
“Because Amanda told me. She tells me all kinds of shit I never want to
hear. But apparently I’m the only person she feels she can confide in, so…” I spread my arms and sniffed bitterly. “Lucky me.”
“Wha…?” Ethan shook his head, at a loss for words. Then he frowned. “But… Why you?” he repeated, beginning to believe me about my relationship with his mom, yet still stumped about the rest.
But I was just as baffled as he was.
With a shrug, I answered as best I could. “I’m not exactly sure. I think she contacted me the first time because… You know… She’d heard the same rumors about me that you had.”
Snorting, Ethan rolled his eyes.
I kept talking. “But then once we actually met, she started talking, like that really fast monologue she gets when she’s nervous.”
He narrowed his eyes and flashed his teeth at me. “It’s not even right that you know about her nervous chatter.”
“And when I actually listened,” I went on, ignoring him, “I guess she…I don’t know…thought I was a good person to talk to from that point on. Fuck, I’m not sure. I just know I wouldn’t have to do any of that if you did it instead.”
Riker’s frown deepened. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not her son. You are. So step up and do your job already, so I don’t have to.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, you idiot, that she’d rather do all this shit with you. Not me. She doesn’t really want to hug me. But she settles for me, because when was the last time you hugged her?” When he just frowned, I shook my head. “When was the last time you had a true legitimate conversation with your mother and listened to her instead of talked at her?”
“I talk to her every damn day,” he cried.
“Talking that didn’t involve you asking her to wash your pants or lecturing her about how much wine she drinks.”
He opened his mouth, only to close it and glare at me.
“That’s what I thought. Start treating her like someone you actually care about, and she’ll forget I even exist. Hell, she’d probably never hurt herself again. She just wants attention. Your attention.”
“But I don’t—” He cut himself off abruptly before flushing and sending me a dirty look as if I’d caused his problems. Then he mumbled, “I don’t know what to say to her.”
Oh, Jesus.
“You don’t have to say anything. Honestly, she likes it better when I just shut up and listen. The woman wants to be understood and accepted for what she is. It’s honestly as simple as that.”
He seemed to contemplate my suggestion, his gaze distant but pensive.
“Now, are you at least starting to believe I’ve never had sex with her?” I asked.
He lifted one shoulder, not meeting my gaze. “I guess.”
“Good.” I shoved him right back into the wall. “Now about Reese.”
His eyes widened as they flew up to meet mine. “What about her?”
“Are you sniffing around her just because of me?”
His expression filled with shocked disgust before he screeched, “What? No! I don’t even know what the fuck that means?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You threatened me last night. You told me you were going to hit me where it hurt the most.”