“Do I really have to?” I questioned myself as I stood below the apartment block.
After our confrontation, Lance packed his stuff and vacated my apartment, without a second word. And according to my P.I (what do you think?) he had been staying in mama’s apartment. With that b*tch Fiona no less.
Ever since that conversation with mama, I had been thinking a lot. Do I really want to be estranged from my other son? All along, Lincoln was close to Dan. He listened to his father and mostly stayed with him. He seemed more of a distant relative that I got to see on special occasions, than a son. And Gia and I barely got along either. But then I didn’t have to worry about their marriages. Both found very eligible partners. Lincoln married a heiress of the influential Villareal family, with vineyards stretching from Champ Le Sims to Monte Vista. I couldn’t have made a better match myself. Even Gia married a very influential and independently wealthy critic, despite her rebellious ways.
It was only Lance.
I scowled, as I stepped out of the lift. I could never comprehend what he sees in that basic b*tch, that made him so besotted. He had a very compatible partner in Lucielle. What more he could ask for? There was no way I would accept that Fiona girl, let alone inviting her to move in. But it seemed it was better to keep her under my watchful eye. And I knew that was the only way to get Lance to move back.
I’ll concede, for now.
And it was her whom answered the door. Really. Talk about awkward. Putting on the most plastic smile I could, I said to her, “Can I speak to my son, please?” I really wanted to put her in place, but control Roisin, I couldn’t ruin my plan could I?
“Sure…” She stammered, pointing to Lance who was sitting on the sofa.
But the instant I sat down on the sofa, he bolted up, muttering something about cleaning glasses. Holy plumbob! How dare he snub his mama like that? I swallowed, and followed him to the kitchen.
“Lance! I don’t look that repulsive right?” I said a little self-depreciatingly. “I’m not here to start an argument today. I want to make peace, really.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking at me albeit skeptically.
“Look, I’m sorry. I would like you to move in with me.” I turned to look at Fiona for a second, “And with Fiona too.”
“Yes, please move in with me. With your…” I paused for a second, “wife.” I don’t know why I stumbled on that part, perhaps because of my reluctance to accept Fiona as my daughter-in-law. But as I’d been told, the papers have been signed and the marriage registered. It was not as if I had other options.
“Thanks mama!” He beemed. “I really appreciate that.”
With their backs turned, I couldn’t help but frown. I was far from pleased with the arrangement. I really don’t like Fiona. Imagine putting up with that b*tch under my roof! However, I knew it was the best way going forward. At least I have her under my nose, watching her every move instead of letting her run wild and turn my son against me.
“Yea, just bear with it.” I told myself. “Soon, she will realise and give up.”