Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(15)



"Technically, you're telling me."

"Bob, this is serious. Where the hell is she?"

"Call her."

"I tried, you big lummox. That's why I'm calling you."

He laughs at me.

"She'll be fine. Trust me. Your mom knows what she's about. Listen, call me if you don't hear anything in an hour or so."

I glance at the clock above her desk. It's almost one o'clock. I was up all night goofing around on the Internet. I assumed she'd just come home without bothering to inform me. She didn't say anything before leaving.

That's when I hear a crunch of tires on the sidewalk outside and rush to the front window, overlooking the door. A black Lincoln is sitting out front of my house, and there's a man stepping out from the back. He strides around and opens the door.

He looks familiar.

My mother steps out, taking his hand as she rises. She's wearing the skirt she probably had on last night, but her other things are over her arm and I swear she's wearing a man's dress shirt, the tails hanging loose over her skirt. She grins and rises up on her tip-toes to kiss him. On the lips.

Oh my God they had sex.

I almost fall right on my butt from shock. I may be, uh, innocent myself, but I have enough friends at school to recognize the, ah, glow. My Mom did the deed with this guy last night. He's dropping her off after what I presume is a night of post museum donor party sex. Like, the guy's penis was in her vagina.

Oh my God.

He turns around, looks around, and it hits me again, he looks really familiar. Dark hair, lean build, and he's got those little Reed Richards gray hair things at his temples. He's not dressed to the nines but he looks like he should be. He walks Mom up to the front door, and I rush down the stairs to the foyer.

I hear him saying, "Keep the shirt," and she breaks out laughing.

She waves to him, then turns around and notices me, and her look sours.

"What?"

"I…" I don't know what to say. "You didn't come home last night and you didn't answer your phone."

"My phone? Oh. I must have left it here."

"Yeah, in the desk. Who is that guy?"

"Steven Temple. He's a newer member of the donor list, but quite generous. We hit it off."

I fold my arms over my chest. "You hit it off."

She does the same gesture, just as defensively. My God, her hair is all floofed. She has bed hair.

"We hit it off. I haven't been on a date in years. I like him," she shrugs. "We'll be seeing each other again tonight. Which reminds me, I need to freshen up."

She almost brushes past me and I just stare at her in shock, swiveling around to watch her go up the stairs. She's not wearing shoes, she's carrying her freaking pumps in her hand. She's even doing that butt sway thing.

My mom got laid. I have to tell Charity.

Of course, she's not online. I end up sitting there drumming my fingers for twenty minutes before the little blip next to her name turns green and she gets on the chat with me.

My Mom didn't come home last night.

OMG is she safe?

She just got here. She was with a guy!!!

Doing what?

What do you think?

I don't know. Museum stuff?

They had sex, Charity.

OMG!!!

It goes on like that for about fifteen minutes. Finally I've had enough, say bye-bye to Charity and start pacing my room. I need to make up my mind about my admissions letters. I'm either going to buckle down and go where she wants or make a stand and go where I want.

I'm starting to lean towards going my own way. I could get a job on the side to support myself while I work, and I'd come through it debt free. I'll do the same if I go Mom's way, but then I'll have surrendered and solidly become her pet or her means to live vicariously or something.

After quite a while brooding, I hear a door swing shut and, curious, poke my head out into the hallway. That's when my mother walks past my room wearing a cocktail dress. I'd hesitate to call it slutty, I mean it's still her, but for her it's pretty risqué, with a skirt that only comes down to her knees, bare shoulders, and a tight bodice. She's gone the whole nine yards, lipstick, earrings, a string of pearls, and she did up her hair, smoothing it against her head.

She actually looks pretty good. Younger, too.

"Yes?"

"Uh, nothing," I squeak. "Are you going out with that guy again?"

"Yes. We're going to Philadelphia for dinner and a movie."

"What movie?"

"The Sixth Seal. Ingmar Bergman. It's showing at-

"Euuugh," I choke out. "Fine, fine. Have fun."

She tilts her chin back a little. "What are you going to do this evening?"

"Nothing," I shrug.

"I've heard Lucas is throwing a party."

"Mom, you're supposed to be talking me out of going to the jock's house party. You know his parents are down the shore."

She waves her hand. "You'll be fine. Besides, Lucas wouldn't hurt you. He adores you."

I'm pretty sure half the things Lucas pictures doing with me would hurt, actually.

"No, not interested."

She shrugs. "I see. Fine, then. Enjoy sitting around doing nothing."

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