Chapter 50: Mia
The waitress returns with my Diet Coke and Mom's margarita.
"Just in the nick of time," she mutters, swallowing down half of it in one thirsty gulp. "Have you spoken to him yet?"
I shake my head. Like Beck, he's reached out. And like Beck, I've avoided his calls and texts. There is nothing he can say or do that will change the disgust and disappointment coursing through me. If he wasn't happy in his marriage, he should have done something about it instead of sneaking around behind Mom's back.
"As furious as I am with him," she says, "I don't want to cause a wedge in your relationship. No matter what happens between us, he is your father, and he loves you."
It's almost a relief when our lunch arrives. Mom needs something solid in her stomach to counteract the tequila. She's been snacking on the chips and salsa, but it's not enough.