Way Down We Go

Chapter Twenty Three

"I only call you when it's half past five
The only time that I'll be by your side."

"Mariposa Valois!" a woman shrieked. I rolled my eyes, what are you doing?!" Catherine shrieked at me, after damn near making a hole in my wall for the doorknob slamming into it with such ferocity. I glared at her through my reflection in the mirror, illuminated my the ring light and the professional lights my photographer had set up for an exclusive photo shoot we had been doing as I fixed my deliciously dishevelled hair and makeup.

"Hey!" I complained, lowering the liquid lipstick from my face and turning to my mom, clad only in a white silk, floor length robe. Catherine fumed from the doorway, her face almost as red as her blouse as she snared at me like a bull seeing red. I furrowed my eyebrows. "What was that for? That's expensive," I wined.

"I don't give a damn and neither should you!" Catherine boomed.

"Maybe I should give you two some space," the photographer said. I nodded and blew a kiss as he left my mom alone with me.

"I'll be a minute, babe." I said as he closed the door softly.

Then, Catherine exploded on me.

"What on earth are you turning into?!" she shrieked at me. I blinked at the shrill sound. "The sex, the drugs, the booze! I thought we turned a corner when the psychiatric doctor put you on whatever the hell those are," she threw an arm to one of my many pill bottles that decorated the bathroom dresser. One of the ones I technically needed, not one of the ones I wanted, might I add. "but you've changed even more! You may not be a shivering, whimpering wreck anymore but this vain, materialistic, hedonistic pop star damn sure isn't an upgrade!" she snapped. "You haven't communicated with us in a month!" she hissed.   "You're not my daughter any more, I don't know where she's gone!" she cried, now more emotional then angry at me.

"Are you finished?" I asked, slipping down from the marble sink, my bare feet padding upon the cool tiles, warm from the raising steam of a recently drawn hot bath. 

That seemed to only fuel the fire, and before I knew it, Catherine's palm struck out and struck me across the cheek. I cried out in surprise,  hunching over to hold my now throbbing cheek. For all we had done wrong to each other, and when I struck out at her as a traumatised six year old girl, Catherine de Medici had never risen a hand to me before. Well, until now.

"Snap outta it!" Catherine screamed at me. "Enough with this pity party, enough with the drugs, the booze, the alcohol, the working yourself to death and cutting us all off!" she yelled. "Enough, Mary!" she yelled again, gripping me by the shoulders and jerking me back and forth. Even though I stood several inches over her, the woman seemed like a lioness right now. "I know what Francis did and I know how terrible it is, hell, Henry's been doing the same since before we got married! But your heartbreak doesn't give you the right to destroy the bond I have spent so long trying to attain with you, the amount of years I didn't know where you were and if you were okay nearly killed me, but you don't get to burn the bridge just because you're angry with my son!"

"Angry, you think I'm just angry?" I asked, stepping away from her to gain balance between us. "I'm heartbroken, humiliated! He burned the bridges of my friendship with Lola and is gonna play happy families with her whilst married to me! How is that right?!"

"You're giving him every right to be with her -even though, for your information, he is not with her-, you're divorcing him as we speak!"

"Yes, that's right, stick up for precious baby Francis! Never stand by me!"

"I am standing by you! But you don't get to make me stand aside and watch you kill yourself!" she snapped at me.

"I am not," I hissed. "Am I, a fully grown adult, not allowed a drink whenever I want one? Can I not let loose with a little bit of fun every now and then? Is a celebrity not due the same release as a businesswoman?" I snapped.