My Brother's Girlfriend

Chapter Five

When I woke up, we were parked at a rest stop. My mother's seat was empty and I felt the overwhelming need to pee. I abandoned my blanket and jogged into the bathroom area. My mother's shoes were in the stall across from mine, and I tried to pee faster than her so I could jog back to the car and pretend I never woke up to avoid conversation. I lost, and my mother burst out of the stall just before me. 

"Oh, I didn't know you woke!"

"I had to pee." My voice was hoarse and I washed my hands quickly. I wiped them on my sweats and walked out to the car. My mother was close behind me with two iced coffees. I smiled at her and cracked mine open to sip at it. "Thank you." I said to her.

"Yes! Of course dear." She put the car in drive, and we continued towards New York. The sign in front of the rest stop said it was only a hundred or so more miles. I sighed and laid my head back on the car's head rest. My mother yawned, and forced her eyes back open as she gulped down a large sip of iced coffee. 

"Mom, do you want me to drive the rest of the way?" 

"Oh, Vivian, would you?"

"Yes, of course!" I mocked her usual response and she didn't recognize her own words or chose to ignore them. She pulled to the side of the road and I opened my door. She scooted over the center console and sat in my seat, tugging my blanket and pillow into place. She rested her head and shut her eyes. I climbed in and started down the highway until the New York exit came into view. Driving provided me a valid reason to avoid conversation and thinking to much. I turned the station on the radio up a bit and divided my attention to the road and my coffee. It was quiet until we reached New York. I woke my mother up and she gave me directions to the hotel we were staying at. I pulled up and let the valet take our car. My mother and my luggage was brought in on a golden cart by a man in a trendy suit coat with cuff links and epaulettes. It was six in the evening and my mother apparently had dinner being delivered to the hotel room. I laid down on the suite's couch and tried to calm my wavering thoughts and humming nerves. 

"Darling, are you alright." My mother brushed a hand across my cheeks. 

"Of course, I'm just getting nervous."

"For the wedding?"

"Yes, and the fitting and the rehearsal dinner, and the reception."

"Well, what makes you nervous?"

"Thinking about being second to center stage." I admitted, "I just worry that I'll get something wrong."

"Baby," she mumbled gently, "things will always go wrong in at least one way. Wrongs don't make a right, they make memories."

"You think so?"

"Of course! Remember at your father's and I's wedding? I tore my gown." I laughed replaying my mother's terribly red face. She was angered and laughing, so nobody could take her seriously. 

"I'll never forget it," I told her, "because my dad was there." She opened her mouth to mutter something to me about dad. It seemed important but the knock at the door distracted her and the thought was lost. I sighed, and sat back on the couch as dinner was brought in. Fancy silver platters and herbs, grease, and garlic stunk the room up. I wasn't sure of the food my mother ordered, it didn't smell or look amazing, but the taste was nice. It was french, and a hundred dollars. Collectively, my mother and Blake were billionaires. This meant they both spent money like crazy, and never even looked at the tab. When we ate, my mother and I decided to swim a bit in the hotel's pool. She packed my black lace bikini set, and her black swim gear. We rode the elevator down, and a man's eyes were glued to me the entire time. I pulled my towel higher around my chest and hurried off when the floor was correct and the doors opened.