I roll my eyes and sigh, annoyed.
“It’s not funny, and this is a very bad idea.”
“Vixen…” he says with concern, “why do I get the feeling there is something you aren’t telling me?”
My chest floods with guilt as I study the distress on his face.
“I don’t know, Pax, maybe it’s because you have a guilty conscience for whatever it is you do on all of those glory rides you keep taking.”
“Why are you bringing that up right now? I think you’re deflecting. What is this really about?”
Great, now I’ve set off his red flag alert.
“Stop looking at me like that, you know what this is about. I just don’t want to sit through a breakfast with Satan, that’s it!”
“Alright,” he sighs, “I’ll drop it for now, but we are going to eat with them, so move your ass.”
I’m fuming inside, knowing that I have to give in, or he will become more suspicious if I keep fighting him on it.
I take a seat at the dining table, unhappy that Gabe is sitting in my father’s seat at the head of the table while making disgusting googly eyes at my mother sitting directly across from him. Pax takes a seat to my right, likely so that he can catch whatever Satan decides to launch at me before this event is through. I know it’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when.
“So, Helen,” Pax pipes up, “tell us about this trip you’re taking… Kirsten told me once how much you loved your time in Rio when Robert used to take you there. Is that where you and the schmuck are heading?”
I choke down a slice of bacon, trying not to laugh as Natasha fills my glass with orange juice.
“No, we are heading to a beautiful villa on the sands of Morocco actually, and darling, please address my lover as Gabe, will you?”
Pax nods and I roll my eyes to the fact she called him her lover. Gross! And Morocco my ass. I hope that’s code for rehab.
“It’s fine, Helen,” Gabe states. “I’m not easily offended by men who can’t seem to hold down a job or get an education, let alone enter into a committed relationship with a woman.”
Every hair on my body rises as I take in his statement, watching Pax’s face do nothing more than smile and nod in Gabe’s direction.
“Schmuck still about covers it,” Pax says nonchalantly.
“What in the fuck is wrong with you, Gabe?” I ask, deadpanning with him. “You don’t even know Pax, let alone Satan over there and you think you have a fucking right to an opinion at this table? Well, guess what, Wallstreet, you don’t.”
Gabe shrugs and says nothing back, just bites into a slice of toast with his eyes bolted to Pax’s.
“Alright, boys, let’s try to be civil” mother intervenes. “Kirsten, what is that you are wearing around your neck? Have you taken up religion recently?”
“No mother, I haven’t, it’s a gift from Pax if you have to know.”
“Good, because I have to say there is no God that will look upon your faults and forgive you for being such a disappointment to this family.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t need God’s approval. Besides I’m pretty sure that being born to you instantly disqualified me from ever being blessed by God’s good graces.”
Mother laughs, pleased with herself as she takes a sip of wine and I feel Pax squeeze my thigh as if to let me know he’s got my back.
“You know,” Mother starts in, again, “I remember a time not so long ago when I felt the exact same way about my mother, God, she was a wretched thing. You ought to consider yourself fortunate that she passed before you were born, Kirsten. That woman…” she pauses in thought, “if you think I am the Devil, well, let me tell you, she must have been the Antichrist. It makes me wonder what your daughter will think of you one day.”
I glare at her and shake my head with a smirk, knowing she’s trying to curse me.
“I won’t be having kids, Mother, so I guess we’ll never know.”
“Whatever do you mean? Don’t you think you should consider that Pax might want children even if you don’t?”
“Seriously, Satan!” I shout standing instantly enraged. “What me or Pax want is none of your business, and if you were half of the mother you should have been, you would fucking know that we aren’t even dating, you contrite, self-centered cunt!”
Mother stands just as quickly, her eyes narrowed, and her fist white-knuckled from gripping her fork.
Pax stands saying nothing but blocking me with his body.
“Drop the fork please, Helen,” Gabe states, now standing as well.
“Yeah, Helen, please do. It would be greatly appreciated,” Pax adds.
I peek around Pax’s body at my mother’s hostile expression and watch her hesitantly place the fork down on the table.
“Fine, you win for now, Kirsten, seeing as how these two always come to your aide as if I’m some kind of monster.”
She covers her face and begins to cry, but I can tell its fake, one of her dramatic performances.
Falling for it, Gabe makes his way over, wraps his arm around her shoulder, and then leads her out to the sitting room as I roll my eyes and cram another piece of bacon into my mouth.
“Never a dull moment is there?” Pax says, taking his seat.
“Nope.”
“Why have you never told her that I can’t have kids?”
His question catches me off guard and I stare at him, lost in the man who seems to be an imposter, not the Pax I know who never talks about his inability to bear children.
“Why would I tell her that? She
