under her breath. I wasn’t sure who she was referring to as ‘we,’ unless she still believed there were spirits inhabiting her double-wide.
Once the tea was steeped, she made a production of presenting it to Oliver as if it were manna from heaven. I had to give the man props for not spewing the nasty concoction out in a violent spray across the room. I knew from experience that the bitter brew tasted like my mother had plucked random weeds from her yard to make it.
“Hmm,” he said noncommittally as he winced and forced himself to gulp down the overly-large sip he had taken.
When mother went to retrieve a plate of wafers from the kitchen, I leaned over to Oliver and whispered, “How’s your hot salad tea?”
He tried, but failed, to swallow the chuckle. Out of the side of his mouth, he said, “You could have warned me.”
Mother fluttered back to the living room, presented the dry-looking plate of cookies, and sat down with a flourish. After spreading out her barely-there gown to her liking, she said, “So, how long have the two of you been lovers?”
“Mother!” I squawked, horrified by the audacity of this woman. It was inconceivable that she had raised me.
She bugged her eyes out at me as if she was completely innocent and had no idea why I was so irritated. “It’s not like I don’t know that the two of you are lovers, dear. And I, for one, think it’s lovely. I saw no reason for you to tie yourself forever to the first man that settled between your legs.”
“That’s enough,” I snapped in her direction, leaving no room for negotiation. She could embarrass me to no end, but I would not allow her to in any way disparage Dylan or his memory.
“You seem upset, hon.” She pretended to be clueless as to why I would be. “Moxie always used to make you feel better. Want me to see if I still have a can of it buried in the back of the cupboard?”
“No, thanks,” I answered, thinking that if she managed to find one, it would likely be long-expired.
Oliver jumped in to alleviate some of the tension. “Moxie?” Turning to me he asked, “Isn’t that what the tee-shirt you wore to bed said on it?”
“Yep,” I answered. Realizing that he must not have heard of the regional soft drink, I added, “It’s a New England classic, and it’s the absolute best soda ever.”
“Well, then, I must try one while I’m here,” he decided.
I almost managed to forget for a moment that my mother was there as I answered him. “I’m sure we can make that happen. You’re going to love it. I used to drink it to cure all of my ailments.”
Turning his head to include Mother in the conversation, he revealed, “My mom used to swear that those mini chocolate-covered donuts cured everything. She would have me take three by mouth and send me to bed. It sounds strange thinking back on it now, but it always worked.”
“Yuck!” my mother weighed in with her opinion of the processed sweet treat at the same time as I said, “Genius.”
When the conversation lagged for a bit, I asked my mother, “Have you heard anything from Dad lately? He hasn’t returned my calls the last few times I’ve tried to reach him.”
“Not surprising,” she said with judgment dripping in her tone, as if she thought she was the epitome of what good parenting looked like. Turning to Oliver, she revealed in a conspiratorial tone, “Violet’s father is a total hippie. He never missed an opportunity to miss an important moment in her life.”
It was tempting to point out the dance recital she missed because she was at a yoga retreat, the birthdays she forgot, or the numerous times I had to forage for food and spend entire nights alone because she was dating someone new and spending all of her time with him.
Forcing myself to take the high road, I said, “Yes, my father’s a bit flighty.”
Not seeming to sense that the statement applied to her, too, my mother scoffed. “A bit?”
Deciding I’d endured enough, I said, “We need to get going, Mother.”
“Already? But you just got here. I haven’t even had a chance to show Oliver my art studio.”
“Maybe next time,” I promised, even though I knew there wouldn’t be a next time with Oliver by my side. It was a depressing thought, so I quickly added, “Today, I need to give Oliver a driving