Humor/Satire / Plum Crazy Chapter 3
The sun poured over me and I turned my face up to the warmth. Mmm, it felt so good. Unfortunately it was Thursday and I had brunch at Carpaccio’s with my mother. Lavinia, Sr. was seated at the center table on the outside patio, dressed to impress in her champagne silk suit.
A glass full of white wine glittered in front of her. Oh fluff, I was late. She'd ordered wine. I'd be less disturbed if she'd been holding a stiletto and a severed head.
I straightened my yellow tulle skirts, sucked in a deep breath and headed into the bitch battle.
"Morning Lavinia, you're nearly six minutes late."
Which meant she had arrived ten minutes early and was now pissed she'd sat for fifteen minutes alone in public. Oh the horror.
"Plum."
"I refuse to use that ridiculous nickname and what are you wearing? Surely, you can afford something nicer than Goodwill castoffs."
"Plum." If you gave Lavinia Sr. an inch she'd take the whole bloody continent.
"Fine. You want to be named after a piece of fruit. Why not choose banana, it'd match that eyesore you're wearing."
I raised one eyebrow and started singing, ‘This Little Light of Mine” softly. I then got louder and louder. Heads were turning, Lavinia Sr.’s knuckles were white as they clenched around her fork.
"Fine. Plum." I stopped singing and smiled at the elderly couple giving me the stink eye on our left.
"Good Morning, Mother."
With one flick of her manicured finger, the waiter was at our table, groveling.
"We'll both have the egg white omelet, no butter. Two glasses of sparkling water. Sparkling, not tap water. I'll know if it's tap water, young man."
Good thing I had breakfast before I arrived. The waiter, whose name tag declared he was 'Brad' was already scurrying away. I snagged his arm with my hand.
"Brad," I smiled to soften the fact that I'd hurt him if he kept ignoring me, "I'll also have French toast and bacon as well. Thank you."
"She will not."
Brad's eyes darted between the two of us, trying to decide which of us would come after him with the flatware. I dug my blunt nails through his linen sleeve. His eyes widened and he nodded to me and I released him.
"Right away, ma'm."
Then we were alone. What do you say to the woman whose womb you once escaped from? Thanks for the emotional scars? For the first eight years of my life, Lavinia was all I knew.
Lavinia, Sr. sipped her chilled wine and I studied my cuticles. One can never overestimate the need of a good manicure. Less chance of physical evidence if I strangled her.
The waiter scurried back and forth, bringing the water in frosted glasses, plates of steaming food.
What did my mother want? A kidney, bone marrow? Nah, she’d just knock me out and scoop out the parts she needed. Besides, she looked perfect.
Her plastic surgeon must be able to buy an island in Tahiti by now. Her bubble breasts swelled the front of her designer suit, plus her face had that just ironed look of a botox treatment. And I was fairly certain she’d gotten cheek implants. Either that or we had some elf blood in our background.
“Binny and BM are doing well, by the way.” I shivered as I sipped my icy water.
“I don’t see why it would matter to me.”
“They are your sons.” I popped a chewy piece of bacon in my mouth. Delicious.
“They stopped being my sons when they chose their father over me in the divorce.”
“They were five-years old.” I shoved the other piece of bacon in as my mother stared at me in distaste.
“You’re never too young to understand loyalty, Lavinia.”
That was one lesson I agreed with. I cut into the French toast, dripping with butter and syrup.
“Mother, why are we here?”
“Can’t a mother have a luncheon with her daughter?”
I snorted, gagging on the bite of French toast I’d just crammed into my mouth.
“Don’t be crude, Plum. A lady never chews with her mouth open.” Lavinia Sr. was taking dainty little bites of her omelet. But I'm sure that was due more to an inability to move her facial muscles with all the botox floating in her system than any sense of class.
“You didn’t come to see me when I was in the hospital two years ago.”
“You were in a coma. You were as interesting as a potted plant. Why should I come and watch you mold? Besides, other people were checking on you.”
“Just tell me what you want, Mother.”
“My part of the hospital settlement.”
Was it possible that one of my mother’s boobs had popped and the silicone was slowly eating into her brain? I checked out her chest to see if her air pillows were evenly distributed. They seemed okay, if oversized.
“No.” Why should I give Attila the Nun anything? She could just pop her fangs into some new man's bank account and suck him dry. Go with what works.
“I deserve half, if it weren’t for me you’d never have received that money to begin with.”
“You shot me in the head, Mother.”
“Don’t carry a grudge, Lavinia. It was years ago and an accident.”
“I was eight and you shot me in the head.”
“I wasn’t trying to shoot you. Larry was cheating on me and I wanted to scare him straight. You got in the way, always going where you weren‘t wanted. Don‘t whine about it, you were only in the hospital a day.”
“That time, Mother. It put me in the hospital for emergency surgery sixteen years later.” The scar still itched in hot weather. Maybe I should shoot her in the head and see if she held a grudge. As she so fond of telling me, accidents happen.
“Well, that was your lucky day. The hospital gave you Demerol even though they had it in their records you were allergic. A quick coma later and you wake up a wealthy woman. What better luck could you have?”
Silly me, I would have preferred not to have brain surgery.
“What does this have to do with you?” Sometimes, my mother’s logic amazed me. I like finding a flat screen TV in an outhouse.
“If I hadn’t shot you to begin with, you’d never been in the position to benefit from the hospital‘s mistake.”
I stared at her, both awed and horrified. My mother, she‘d make a philosopher cry. For the first time since I hit puberty, I wasn’t hungry. I shoved back my plate, wiping my sticky fingers on my linen napkin. My hands were shaking. I hid them in the folds of my skirt. I will not throw my drinking glass at my mother, I will not throw my drinking glass at my mother. Even I didn't believe me.
“How much?” BM controlled most of the money but I could get a few thousand.
“I figure half would be fair.”
“No.” In the things that mattered, I’d never been able to tell her no for very long.
“I can make things very difficult for you, Lavinia. Your brother has developed some very interesting new friends, friends I’m sure the government would be interested in.” She took the last bite of her omelet, patted her lips dry, “Don’t make me be cruel.”
I clenched and unclenched my hands in my skirt, I eyed the silver butter knife. Then, my mother lost interest in me and turned toward the open gate. I followed her gaze.
A curvy brunette in an orange wrap-dress paused, scanned the group from behind oversized sunglasses. She cocked one hip, pursed her glossy lips and slid off her shades. Suze. Relief fluttered inside me with great pteradactyl wings. She spotted me and sashayed over.
Suze is the only woman in the world who I’d ever seen sashay. She leaned down, filling my nose with the scent of citrus perfume, and whispered in my ear, “Binny texted me.”
Binny had Suze’s number?
“Hello, you must be Plum’s birth mother. “ Suze offered a small, soft hand and a flash of teeth.
Lavinia took the hand like one would handful of snotty tissues, “Who are you?”
“I’m Suzette.”
“Suzette who?”
“Plum’s sister and your worst nightmare, you frigid bitch.”
If Suze hadn’t been my sister and a girl, I’d have tongue kissed her in that moment. Instead, I settled for another bite of the French toast. All of a sudden, I was really hungry.
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This 392 word review has not been unlocked.
I would like to have seen other parts of this story so that I could get a better idea of what’s going on but from what I see here this is brilliant for what it is. You listed it as humor and it is indeed very humorous. I especially enjoy when the focus turns inwards into “Plum’s” thoughts, and the descriptions allow me to almost see this playing out. Well done, I hope to see more.
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