I’m surprised she hasn’t used handcuffs. Or one of those ankle bracelets that reports if I leave the vicinity. But needless to say, mom is mad. Way mad.

So, mother/daughter bonding now is my life.

Mom will be cutting back on her volunteer hours. Don’t think I haven’t heard of the kids who’ll suffer for that. She’ll be bringing work home, as needed, to be home when I get done with school for the day.

When school is over for the day I am to come home. Straight home. Exceptions will be made for softball, but then I’m to come right back home after games.

There’s two weeks of school left.

I don’t think I’ll survive.

Even worse, I’ve still got to face everyone on Monday.

Jake was by this morning, along with his mom, to pick up the car. He waited outside. I was banished to my room. It’s not like we’re Romeo and Juliet or something. Geez.

I wasn’t quite able to hear what his mom and mine talked about. I sort of tried, but probably not enough. Anyway, what I did hear, they seemed to be getting along.

Why is that? Couldn’t his mom just say that my mom was wrong and be done with it?

And it’s not even mom that she should be mad at, it’s Bette Porter.

Hello, Mrs. Jake’s mom, but my ex-girlfriend got a little vigilante on your son last night and stuff, I hope you don’t mind.

It’s so embarrassing.

Speaking of one Ms. Bette Porter, we’re going to see her again. Lunch. Soon. Aunt Shane’s going, and Aunt Alice will be there. I think Uncle Frank is taking a pass, which is too bad. He seems to be in the doghouse with mom’s crew as often as I am, but for different reasons, I think. He never quite says.

So, the order du jour. Get cleaned up. Get washed up. And get ready for the rest of your life which will never been the same.

Did I mention I felt like ***** this morning? Because I did.

Mom took extra glee in waking me up, I’m sure.

Why would mom drink if she’s just going to feel like I do today on the next day?

Geez some of this stuff just makes no sense. I thought it was easier when you get older, no one telling you what to do and all that.

Now it seems like the whole world is not only telling me what to do, but telling me that what I’m already doing is way wrong.

Like I didn’t know that already.

Oh, wait, whenever I think it can’t get worse, it gets worse. Cramps. This morning I woke up – excuse me, was awoken – only to discover I had both cramps and a hangover.

Can you believe my luck?

So, now I’m cleaned, showered, and in pain.

I took more ibuprofen, which is quickly becoming my drug of choice. That should make mom feel better. Okay, I’m not really sure why it should make her feel better. The whole thought kind of made no sense. But I feel better, and that is what’s important.

I thought maybe if I could convince mom that I felt really, really horrible that she’d give up on the lunch idea.

It’d probably take a death certificate, mine, to buy my way out of this one.

Things got a little better when Aunt Shane came over.

Things always get better when Aunt Shane comes over.

She never acts like I’m a toddler, like so many adults seem to. Actually, that’s one thing I can say in the favor of Bette Porter lately. She stays well away from me, which I take as treating me like Im older. Or something. Whatever; it works.

Hopefully she’s staying well away from mom, too, although mom doesn’t seem to show much interest in her.

Well, except for that near-miss on the hand holding. Geez.

The way all of that turned out I should have just let them go into French kissing in the restaurant. Would have saved me a lot of embarrassment.

Would mom French kiss Bette Porter?

Now that I’ve got some experience at this stuff, I can see why they might like it, in theory. But, they’re like old and stuff. Isn’t there an age limit on all of that stuff.

Okay, this is a line of thought that I officially do not want to pursue. Time to talk to Aunt Shane.

“Hey kiddo.”

She gives me a hug as I come into the room. Aunt Shane was always great for hugs. No matter what was up or what I did, I knew that she’d never forget the hug. That’s so cool, right?

Not that mom’s been withholding of affection or anything like that. But with mom, while she’ll give me a hug, she still doesn’t let me off the hook. With Aunt Shane, okay, I screwed up, but Im never on the hook.

Aunt Shane pushes me back to arm’s length and gives me the once over. “First hangover, huh?”

“Yeah.” I pull a face. “And my last.”

For that she gives me a smile. “Keep it that way.”

I nod my head in complete agreement. Now, if I could do something about the cramps.

“So, kiddo.”

Uh oh. When Aunt Shane leads off like that, I’m in trouble. I hope it’s not a mom-driven fact-finding probe. “Yeah?”

“Who was that boy last night?”

Oh geez. I suppose she probably heard the shouting match. “Umm, he’s a senior.”

“And does he have a name?” She motioned with her hands for me to speed it up. “Yeah.”

Now I’ve got the follow-up raised eyebrow. Might as well finish answer the question, even though the answer that I gave her was, technically, complete. “Jake.”

“Jake, huh?”

“Yeah.” I hope I’m not blushing.

“You know if you need me to kick his behind or anything for you”

Great, what did Porter tell her? “Umm, I don’t think that’suh”

Now she’s got her hand on my shoulder. It’s the serious look. Well, you know, it is Aunt Shane, after all.

“Seriously, Jess, even if you like a guy, you don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know but” Like, I really don’t think he’d have done anything.

“C’mon, Jess. It’s me.”

That whole blush thing, one more time. Gah! Based on the faces Aunt Shane was making, I must have had some pretty good ones, myself.

“I know your mom wants you to tell her this kind of stuff, but I know that can be hard.”

You don’t know the half of it, Aunt Shane. That, added to thinking about mom and Bette Porter earlier. Geez. That’s enough to really warp a kid’s mind. “Yeah.”

“I’m always here for you, right?”

Now I give her a hug. Because she’s my Aunt Shane. That’s reason enough, right?

Yeah. It is.

(tbc)