A screeching horn, crunching tires, and a coughing muffler barge into our moment without warning. By the time I turn to see what all the commotion is, I’m met with a tiny bottle-blonde flying out the passenger side of a rusted El Camino.
“Mama!” Scarlett drops her things on the pavement and dashes toward someone I can only assume is her mother. Though from a distance, it would be easy to mistake Lexi for one of Scarlett’s friends. She’s not much bigger than her daughter, and with her cutoff shorts and skintight tube top, she’s dressed more like a high schooler on summer break than a grown adult woman meeting up with her daughter.
But I’m not here to judge.
“Mama, this is my friend, Elle,” Scarlett introduces us a moment later.
“Hi.” I wave. “So nice to meet you.”
Lexi waves back, grinning wide as she slides her hands into her back pockets. “Likewise. Scarlett told me all about you over the phone. You guys want a ride?”
She points to the open back of the El Camino, and I steal a peek at the man sitting in the driver’s seat in his wraparound sunglasses and no expression on his face.
“We can just walk.” I point in the direction of her house. “Just a couple of blocks.”
“No, no,” Lexi says. “I insist. Just hop on back. We’re going to Jared’s anyway.”
“Why was the house locked up, Mama?” Scarlett asks. “Dede said she hadn’t seen you in weeks.”
Lexi pushes a casual breath between her lips before laughing. “Dede needs to mind her own business, doesn’t she? I’ve been living with Jared. The house just feels so lonely without you there.”
Lexi reaches for Scarlett’s hair, dragging her fingers through a strand before tucking it behind her ear.
“You look so much older since I last saw you,” Lexi says in a bittersweet yet proud tone. “Getting so pretty too.”
Lexi’s driver shifts his car into park before crossing his arms and making no effort to hide his impatient annoyance at having to wait.
“Should we go somewhere and catch up?” I ask. “We’re staying at the Best Western. We were just talking about ordering in tonight, maybe watching a movie. You should join us.”
The light in Lexi’s eyes fades a shade, and her attention weaves from Scarlett to me and back. I don’t mean to make her feel like a third wheel, but I can’t let the two of them go anywhere alone together. I promised West.
“Lex, hurry up. I’m fucking starving,” her driver says. “Wrap it up.”
Scarlett takes a step closer to her mom, threading her fingers with hers. “You’re going with us, right, Mama?”
Lexi turns toward the douche in the car. “It’s my kid. She’s only here for the weekend.”
The man grits his teeth before pounding his steering wheel. “Not my problem, Lex.”
My heart hammers hard in my chest as my surroundings grow murky. Everything inside of me wants to call Lexi out for not making Scarlett a priority, and everything else inside of me wants to go animal on this douche for making her choose between him and her own flesh and blood.
But it’s not my place.
“I’m sorry, Scarlett.” Lexi’s soulful eyes lock onto her daughter’s. “Jared and I are going through a little bit of a rough patch right now . . . if I don’t go with him, it’ll probably be the end of the road for us. And he’s letting me crash with him, so that’s a whole thing.”
My jaw falls.
“Mama . . .” Scarlett’s voice breaks. “Don’t do this . . .”
Taking a step closer, I start to interject before stopping myself, lips pressed together so tight they burn with all the things I want to say to this woman.
“Maybe we can get breakfast tomorrow?” Lexi asks. “Jared goes to work tonight, and I’m picking him up in the morning when he gets off. I could meet you guys somewhere before that?”
“Since when do you get up before noon on a Saturday?” Scarlett teases her.
“Jared’s been good for me,” Lexi says with a girlish chuckle as she tosses a smirk his way. Releasing her daughter’s hand, she fusses with her thin blonde hair, sweeping it into a messy bun and securing it with a leopard-print scrunchie.
“Our time here is limited,” I say.
Jared revs his engine before cranking his classic-rock radio station so loud we have to shout to hear one another.
“I’m sorry, Scar.” Lexi cups her daughter’s face in her hands before leaning in and kissing her forehead. “Tomorrow at seven. Let’s meet at Joe’s Café on the square. You can tell me all about New York and everything then, okay?”
With that, Lexi climbs back into Jared’s mustard-yellow El Camino, leaving us in a trail of exhaust.
“I’m so sorry, Scarlett,” I say.
She sniffs before grabbing her suitcase. “For what?”
I try to find the right response, only it escapes me. I can’t relate to her situation—not even close. My mother is the opposite of hers in every aspect of the word.