Page 51 of Mom Com

“Thanks,” I say on his behalf, relieved that’s the only reason he stopped by.

“But while I’m here,” Jake says as though he could sense my thoughts and decided to push his luck. “Have you guys had dessert yet? Your mom tells me I need to do way better than root beer floats before she’ll agree to join us.”

Spence bounces in response. “Oh, she can’t join us, she’s going out with Wilder. But yeeeess to dessert!” he says.

So, this wasn’t just a casual stop-by of goodwill.

And with impeccably bad timing, the doorbell rings. It’s Jake who answers.

“Wilder,” he says with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, stepping aside so he can come in.

“Jake,” Wilder replies, and suddenly the small foyer feels very crowded.

In Wilder’s hand is a large to-go cup, which he offers to Spence. “I know you and I haven’t had a chance to hang out yet, but I figured if you’re anything like your mom when she was a kid, you might want this.”

Spence pulls the lid off. “Hot chocolate? With toasted marshmallow cream! Wow, thanks!”

For just a moment, Jake’s expression goes from unamused to surly. I guess he finds Wilder’s hot chocolate about as entertaining as Mom finds public nudity.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Wilder,” Jake says.

“I could definitely say the same about you,” Wilder replies, seemingly friendly in front of Spence even though I recognize his veiled insult for what it is.

I jump in to defuse the tension. “Yes well, we better be go—”

“I’m shocked you and Maddi are on speaking terms after what happened at the market today,” Jake adds to one-up him.

I instantly feel ill. If Jake of all people knows about Kate’s tirade, then who doesn’t?

“What happened at the market?” Spence asks, aware that there’s a conversation going on he doesn’t understand.

I give Jake and Wilder a look likeI will murder you both in your sleep if you repeat what happened in front of my kid. Also, screw you, Jake, for bringing it up like that.

Wilder opens his mouth to reply, but my mother enters. I find it very hard to believe she didn’t hear the end of that conversation.

“I see we have guests,” Mom says. “Can I offer you all a glass of wine or some tea?”

Oh, hell no. And let these two duke it out verbally for the next hour? I’m about two seconds away from throwing them both out a window.

“Wilder and I were actually on our way out,” I say, now squeezing around them to the closet and grabbing my coat. “But thanks, Mom.”

“And Dad and I are going to get dessert,” Spence echoes, clearly not wanting to miss his opportunity to drown himself in sugar.

“Okay then,” she says. “Maybe another time. You all have fun.” She smiles, but when she looks at me, her eyes convey a silent communication that feels a little like gloating that I’m once again cavorting with the Buenaventuras. I decide to ignore it.

I hand Spence his coat and gloves and pull his hat over his head.

“Mom,” he says like I’m fussing.

But when I give him a kiss on the cheek, he doesn’t resist. “Have fun and text me.”

“I will,” he promises, and I open the door, ready to get out of here before Wilder and Jake pull out their dicks and lasso the furniture.

Spence and Jake follow us out, and when Wilder opens my car door for me, I can feel Jake’s eyes on my back. If Spence weren’t here, I would yell at them both. Besides, the whole thing is idiotic. Neither of them is interested in me.

As soon as Wilder closes his door, I give him a pointed look. “Why is being in this town like reliving high school? Does no one grow up?”

He looks over his shoulder as he reverses out of my driveway. “No,” he says, and his answer throws me enough that some of my frustration dissipates. “It’s not that people don’t mature,” he adds, “but I think a lot of what we tell ourselves about adulthood is categorically false.”