Mothers’ Match

“Our mothers have been hanging out,” Bailey informed me.

“Yeah?” I dumped the broken noodles into the boiling water.

“Apparently about once every three weeks.” I scrolled through my calendar, trying to find landmarks for important dates. I can’t remember when it was that Bailey met with our mothers at the café and chewed them out. I refused to go after texting my mother and seeing her absolute naïveté to not only the case but how she is a pawn on the opposing side. She played innocent, and I figured that if in innocence she could cause so much heartache, I would preserver her ‘innocence’ and just not give her the ammunition. “They’re besties, or at least that’s what it looks like.”

“It really does. I don’t think she hung out as much with her other ‘best’ friend.” I tried scrolling through my mother’s schedule back when I was living with her. The one person she hung out with most and might have called a best friend she met maybe a few times a year.

“I know my mom’s gay. What do you think, do you think your mom likes girls?”

I considered. I couldn’t imagine her liking anyone, she probably hadn’t dated anyone in four or five years. “I know she hates men.”

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