Page 21 of Mom Com

The toy store owner (and mother of four) chuckles behind the counter.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Lyndsay says with the non-frightened dreaminess of someone who has never pushed a large human through a small hole.

Kate, however, is far too focused on my face for my liking. I know I caused a scene the other night, and no one regrets that more than me, but honestly, it’s starting to feel like this is personal, like she sees me as a threat. I wish I could tell her just how absurd that notion is without it being ten kinds of awkward.

“I’m not sure I would be brave enough to do it all alone,” Kate says with a sigh.

“How far along are you?” I ask Lyndsay, redirecting the conversation before it turns into one about my past.

“About seven and a half months. We’re actually here shopping for my baby shower.” She indicates the sizable shopping bags on Kate’s arm. “Kate’s the one planning it. I was just going to do something simple, but you know Kate... always so elegant.”

Kate perks up in response to the praise. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she says and with a small laugh adds, “you’ve been a lifesaver helping me come up with ideas for my one-year anniversary.”

My heart slams into my ribs, the ferocity of my reaction taking me by surprise. I don’t know why, but I assumed her relationship with Wilder was short-term, six weeks tops. “One year? Wow.” I hear the hitch in my voice (and I’m certain she does, too), which annoys me. This is categorically not something I care about.

“It’s funny because it doesn’t feel that long,” Kate says with an easy shrug. “But then again, if our mothers had anything to do with it, Wilder and I would already be picking out our china patterns.”

And once again, my nervous system takes a blow, my heart doing calisthenics. The notion that Wilder’s mother wants him to marry Kate rings true. She’s exactly the sort of person Mrs. Buenaventura gushes over—wealthy family, outwardly perfect. But why, oh why is my body betraying me and acting like this is a big deal? They deserve each other; go forth and get married, spawn beautiful, horrible babies together for all I care.

“See, my mom’s old-fashioned,” Kate continues. “She swears that a woman’s biggest nightmare is ending up alone.”

Here we go again. Maybe she’s not trying to instigate an argument, but fuck if I’m going to let her insinuate that my life is a nightmare in hearing range of my kid. “Funny, my worst nightmare is sitting on the toilet and having a hidden spider attack my vagina, but to each their own.”

Lyndsay bursts into embarrassed laughter, which she quickly squashes.

Kate appears a little horrified, which I have to say is satisfying. “Anyway, we were just headed over to Nothing Batter,” Kate says, clearing her throat, “if you’d like to join?”

The mention of my father’s bakery brings my anxiety back front and center. “I’ve just come from there,” I manage.

“Oh, well, in that case, we really must run,” Kate trills. But as they exit, Kate says to Lyndsay, “I think it’s so sweet Wilder has an interest in that little bakery. It will be such a fun pet project for the both of us.”

And there it is, a dagger on the way out, leaving me with no doubt that she sees me as a threat—a problem I don’t need and certainly don’t want.

I’m about to tell Spence that we have to go, my desire to get home to find that addendum transforming into a visceral need. But as I turn around, he’s already there.

“Really?” he says with raised eyebrows.

“Really what?” I say, unsure what he heard or what he made of it, my mom-fixer-sense activating in case he picked up on Kate’s subtext.

“I mean, you know I’m proud of you for being an independent woman,” he says, lowering his voice and looking around him, “but if you could just not yell about your vagina in here, that’d be awesome. I’d really like to come back.”

As always, he manages to say the one thing that takes me out of my head.

I nod, and this time when I smile, it’s real. “You’re right. I’ll definitely work on that.”

He gives me an evaluating look like he’s not totally convinced, but he’s hopeful.

* * *

I make it back to Mom’s ready and raring to ask her for the will. But as it turns out, her car isn’t in the driveway—like the final fuck you of this never-ending afternoon. No matter, I think, I’ll simply find the thing myself.

“Christmas movie?” Spence offers as we step through the door.

“Sure thing,” I reply, pulling off my coat and haphazardly tossing it onto a hanger, trying to mentally suss out where my mother might have stashed the addendum. “You go pick one out and start it. I’ll be there in a few minutes with snacks.”

The instant he disappears into the living room, I make a dash for the antique mail table in the foyer. I pull open the drawer, but a couple of minutes of shuffling through envelopes indicates it’s not there. So, I head for the dining room, yanking open the top drawer of her sideboard where she keeps her passport and such. Only I don’t have to search this time, because Dad’s addendum is right on top, unfolded, making me feel even more foolish for not seeking it out last night. But the convenience of it strikes me as ominous, indicating whatever I’m missing is so important that my mother laid it out for me to find.

I snatch up the paper and scan through the part I remember her reading, wincing at the line:Ownership of There’s Nothing Batter Bakery shall heretofore be transferred to my daughter, Madeline DeLuca, and to Wilder Buenaventura in equal parts.But two paragraphs down is where I find what I’m looking for: