What If It's Right?

by J B Heller

  Five Years Ago . . .

  Makeup was not my friend. I hated the stuff. But when you haven’t slept well for the last week because of a killer sinus infection and you have huge black bags under your eyes, it’s a necessary evil. Lest I terrify my fellow employees.

  Standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror after having applied a liberal amount of concealer under my eyes, I picked up the next product on the vanity to help hide my panda eyes.

  “What the hell did you do to your face?”

  I spun around and came face to face with Weston. “What are you doing here?” I snapped, embarrassed at being seen like this.

  He eyed me, “You look like shit, Tory. Why are you out of bed?”

  I raised a brow, “I have to go to work. And you didn’t answer me, what are you doing here? It’s not even seven AM.”

  “I know what time it is, me and Finn have an early practice this morning before school. But seriously, you look like shit, you should call in sick.” He said, the look in his eyes conveying his concern for me.

  I heaved a sigh, “Believe me, if I could crawl back in bed right now I would. But I’ve already had a week off and we’re short staffed.” I turned my back on him and continued applying the array of makeup spread across the top of the vanity.

  Looking back into the mirror I could see Weston still standing in the open doorway behind me, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll hide in my office most of the day.” I said with a small smile I didn’t feel.

  He gave a slight nod to my reflection then turned and stalked away. A minute later he returned with a glass of water and some pills, “Here, take these. If you take them now it will give them time to kick in before you have to leave. You shouldn’t be driving when you’re this sick.”

  I took the water, painkillers and the antibiotics he’d handed me gratefully. “Thanks,” I murmured then downed the lot in one go.

  “I’ll drop you at work on our way to practice, what time is your shift over?” he asked.

  He was trying to take care of me, and I appreciated the gesture, but I didn’t need it. Especially from a seventeen year old kid. I was a grown woman for goodness sake, it was my job to take care of them. Not the other way around. “It’s fine Weston, I can drive myself. Thanks for the pills.”

  He shook his head and left the bathroom again, only to return this time with a sleepy Finn. Weston pointed at me, “Tell her she can’t drive.” He demanded of Finn.

  Finn rubbed his eyes then focused on my face, and balked, “What is on your face?”

  I rolled my eyes, “It’s called makeup.”

  He scrunched up his nose, “Since when do you wear that crap?”

  I was beginning to get pissed, I spun around and with my hands on my hips I glared at the boys eyeing me like I’d grown a second head. “I’m trying to look respectable for work, okay? I can’t show up looking like I got in a fight with a freaking kangaroo and got it in the face.”

  “You look like shit, Mum. Maybe you should stay home again?” Finn said.

  My head was hurting too much to have this conversation, again. “I’ve already explained to Mr. Nosey,” I flicked my hand towards Weston, “I have to go in today. We’re short staffed. I’ll be in my office most of the day.”

  Weston leant over closer to Finn and turned his face away so I couldn’t read his lips as he whispered in Finn’s ear. Finn nodded then eyed me again, “We’ll drop you off. You shouldn’t drive. Hell, you shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone behind the wheel.”

  I stomped my foot like a petulant child, I was not happy about the reversal of roles going on right now, “Who’s the parent here? Me, not you. I take care of you. You don’t need to take care of me, Finn. And neither do you, Weston.” My gaze flicked between the two of them.

  Another thing I wasn’t too happy about was the whole giant thing these two had going on. I felt like a midget. It was hard to scold them when I had to literally look up to them.

  Finn shook his head at me, then ruffled my hair, “We’ll drive you.” He said again, then they both walked out, leaving me fuming.

  By the time I finished making my face look a little more respectable and emerged from the bathroom all the fight had left me. I was too tired to argue with them, so I accepted the lift to work and told Finn he could just pick me up after their practice in the afternoon.

  That afternoon however, Weston came to pick me up, without Finn. I frowned as I climbed into the front passenger seat, “Where’s Finn?”

  “Sucking face with Nix. Where else?” he replied with a roll of his eyes.

  I nodded, “Sounds about right.” I sighed and laid my head back against the head rest closing my eyes. I was beyond exhausted.

  I woke with a start few minutes later. I felt Weston’s hand wrap around my upper arm, giving me a little shake. “We’re home.” He said quietly.

  Shaking my head to clear the sleep from my mind, I cleared my throat, “Thanks for the ride.” I muttered as I climbed out of the car and made my way over to my own house.

  Weston came up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “You should have stayed home today. You look even worse than you did this morning, Tory.”

  I leaned into his side, “Such a charmer you are, how do the girls resist you?” I mocked with a yawn.

  “I only turn it on for you Tor, you’re my girl.” He said with a wicked gleam in his eyes then he winked at me.

  I chuckled softly, “And smooth too.”

  He shrugged his shoulder, “You know it. I’m a natural with the ladies. I’ve been practicing on you since I was ten.” He smirked.

  I rolled my tired eyes, “Don’t I know it.”

  Pulling the keys from my bag, Weston took them from me and opened the door. He led me inside, straight to the couch. “You sit, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  “Umm, okay . . .” I mumbled. But I wouldn’t complain. I was wiped and a hot cuppa sounded great. I flopped back against the soft cushions and closed my eyes.

  I liked being looked after for a change, it felt good.

  The boys had a big game coming up and their coach had them pulling double practices this whole week apparently. So that meant that lucky me got a ride to work with my seventeen year old son every morning until I was well enough to drive myself.

  It was times like these that I hated Vera’s work hours. If they were normal I could just hitch a ride with her.

  Four Years Ago . . .

  “So you what are we doing for your eighteenth?” I asked Finn over dinner about a month before the big day.

  He shovelled another fork full of steak into his mouth and contemplated my question as he chewed. After swallowing he said, “I was thinkin’ I’d just hang out with Nixie.”

  Well that hurt. “You don’t want a party?” I always threw him kick arse birthday parties.

  “Don’t look so sad,” he laughed, “I just want to chill with Nix, that’s all. You know how she is around crowds. She’ll be uncomfortable and I’ll feel like a dick for putting her through it.”

  Finn and Nixie had kept their relationship a secret for a year after they got back together. She was too afraid to come out in the open with him after what she’d endured when they first got together. And even after all this time, she still felt like he was out of her league.

  He’d bent over backwards trying to convince her otherwise, but she had it in her head that she was a nobody. Even though she was everything to Finn.

  She struggled with self-worth and confidence, and every chance Finn had, he was building her up and showing her how amazing she truly was. I was incredibly proud of the man he had become.

  And he was a man now, looking at him, I could barely believe my eyes. He wasn’t my little boy anymore. Finn was every bit a man. He stood at six foot two, and all the football he had played during high school had given him a muscles upon muscles.

  His team had gone to state and won. Finn had been scouted to play for o
ne of the A grade teams, but he’d turned down the offer. He told me football wasn’t his dream. And that was good enough for me.

  “Yeah okay, I get it. What if we just have a little party, like just a couple of us? Your close friends, and whatever piece Weston is bagging at the moment?” I suggested.

  One side of Finn’s mouth lifted, “Okay, sounds good. I’ll tell Wes.” Then he got up and cleared our plates off the table.

  “Dishwasher’s nearly full, just pop the plates in and start it. I’ll do the other stuff by hand.” I called out after him.

  Finn’s birthday came and went without too much fuss except for Weston’s bimbo. Weston had brought a girl called Candy, and she was as dumb as her name sounded. She’d looked like a stunned mullet when Finn had swept Nixie up in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips. “Is she like his girlfriend or something?” she’d asked.

  I looked at her and realised she was truly confused. “They’ve only been together for the last two years. So yeah, she’s his girlfriend.”

  Her eyes had widened at my response, “But, like, who is she?”

  I had given her the stink eye, “His girlfriend. I just told you that.”

  She shook her head and laughed, “No I mean like, who is she? She’s a nobody. How did she score a hottie like Finn?”

  And that’s when I showed her the door, Weston right behind me telling her there was no need to call him later, he was done.

  Weston was as protective of Nixie as Finn and I. I was actually shocked that he’d bought such a dumb cow to Finn’s birthday celebration. “What the hell, Weston?” I’d shot at him as soon as I’d closed the door behind his date.

  He shrugged, “She gives great head,” he smirked.

  I narrowed my eyes on him, “Always with the oversharing. Why?” I whined.

  Weston threw his head back laughing then hooked his arm around my shoulder and steered me back into the living room where Luke, one of the boys friends from school, Finn, and Nixie were digging into the pizzas I’d made upon Finn’s request. “Come on, you know you love it.” He’d said as we walked.

  “I really don’t.” I’d muttered. But I kind of did. I was honestly used to it. Weston had always been that way. I’m pretty sure I knew more about his adventurous sex life than Finn did.

  “Where do you find these skanks anyway?” I asked him.

  He shrugged again, “What can I say, I’m a chick magnet.”

  I laughed this time, “You’re so full of yourself.”

  “Would you like to be full of me, Tory?” he said while bouncing his brows.

  I started choking on my slice of pizza and Finn’s head shot up from his plate, “Dude! Stop hitting on my mum!”

  Nixie and Luke started laughing, “I think it would take more than Wes’ corny lines to get inside Tory’s pants baby. I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” Nixie reassured Finn.

  Weston grabbed his heart, “I am wounded. You have wounded me Nix. My lines have gotten me into many a fine woman’s pants.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed, “Yeah well keep your lines for the women who aren’t my mum.”

  Weston rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault your mum’s the definition of MILF.”

  Finn was off his couch and on top of Weston with his fist raised and ready to punch him in the face when Weston pulled a move I’d never seen before and had Finn flat on his back and pinned to the ground beneath him. “Dude, this isn’t news to you.” He’d said to Finn.

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Finn spat back.

  I had no idea what was going on between them, but the usual playful atmosphere that surrounded these kind of goings on had vanished and the air was now thick with tension. “Okay boys, that’s enough for tonight. Weston get off my boy and let’s finish eating. I’m hungry.”

  Weston pushed up to his feet and held his hand out to Finn, who took it reluctantly. “We good?” he asked as Finn stood.

  Finn nodded, and grumbled, “Always.”

  They did some manly handshake hug thing and not five minutes later it was like it had never happened.

  Boys, I would never understand them.

  I hadn’t dated much over the years, preferring the company of my vibrator. Finn was my priority and getting involved with someone would have split my focus. I wasn’t prepared to do that, until now.

  Finn was now eighteen, and spending less and less time at home. And I was getting lonely.

  “V, I haven’t had sex in over a year.” I confessed sadly over a glass of wine on my back porch. And even then, it had been a one night stand with a hottie who came into the shop on closing one night. He’d asked me out for drinks since I was almost finished and I agreed. Finn was out for the night with Weston doing god knows what. I don’t even remember any more.

  Somehow drinks had turned into hot sweaty sex against the wall out the back of the bar. I’m not going to lie, it was amazing. But I’d never do it again. I’m just not cut out for one nighters.

  Vera’s loud snort pulled me from memory lane, “Ha! I haven’t had sex in like three years.” She retorted.

  “That kinda makes me feel a little better.” I admitted.

  Vera raised a brow, “It shouldn’t. I’m not a twenty-eight year old hottie who still has perky tits. You have no excuse for your lack of action.”

  I gasped, “I do too! And you’ve still got it, V. You should totally be out there picking up.”

  She scoffed, took another hearty swig of her wine and levelled me with her narrowed eyes, “Listen here girly, I’ve got thirteen years on you, and you’re tellin’ me I should be out there picking up? Look at yourself, why are you not out there picking up?”

  I shrugged, “I hear forty is the new twenty.”

  Vera snorted, “Lies, it’s all lies.”

  We both started cackling then Finn and Weston opened the sliding door and poked their heads out, “What’s so funny?” Finn asked.

  Finishing the last of my wine I reached for the bottle to refill my glass and realised it was empty. “Any left in your bottle?” I asked Vera, we knew by now that we needed a bottle each for evenings such as these.

  Vera’s drunken frown turned to me, “I’m out.”

  We turned our focus to the boys who were still standing in the open sliding door, “Wine! We need more wine!” I demanded.

  Finn crossed his arms over his board chest, “Really? You sure about that? Walk to me in a straight line and I’ll get you more wine.”

  I snorted, “I’m drowning my sorrows.” I cried.

  His expression morphed to one of concern, “Why? What’s wrong?”

  If I hadn’t of just consumed a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour I would have kept my mouth shut. But I had just consumed a whole bottle of wine, so I told him, “My sex life is non-existent. It’s depressing. My vagina hasn’t seen a real live penis in over a year.”

  Finn’s face morphed again, but this time into revulsion. “Uh! Stop talking. I’ll get more wine if you just stop talking. And never say the word penis or vagina in front of me again.”

  “Penis, penis, penis.” I chanted, then began to sing, “Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head!”

  Weston was bent over at the waist laughing and Finn was turning green. He spun on his heel and headed back inside, “I’m getting the wine! Now shut up!”

  “Thank you!” I called after him.

  Weston took the opportunity to offer my vagina his services, “I’ve got a damn fine penis that would be more than happy to meet your vagina, Tory.” He said with mirth, trying desperately to hold back his laughter.

  Vera picked up the spare chair cushion and threw it at her horndog son, “Weston Banks, you dirty little bastard!” she chided.

  Weston continued to laugh until Finn returned with a chilled bottle of wine and filled my glass for me, then Vera’s. “If you weren’t my mum I’d probably find this funny. But you are. And I don’t ever want to hear about your sex life again.” He sai
d with a stern expression covering his handsome face.

  I waved my hand at him, “I didn’t want to know about yours but that didn’t stop you from having sex on my Netflix couch, did it?”

  His face turned beet red, then his eyes narrowed, “Keep it up and I’m cutting you off.” He threatened holding the wine bottle out over the garden, poised to pour.

  “You’re such a buzz kill.” I complained.

  I regretted the whole conversation the next morning. I also regretted the amount of wine I had consumed. I had the hang over from hell, and when I finally stumbled out of my room at ten AM, Finn laughed in my face, making my head pound so hard I thought my eyes were going to explode.

  Two Years Ago . . .

  I was going on an actual date. Like a real one with a man, not my vibrator.

  Nervous didn’t begin to describe how I was feeling. My stomach was in knots and the date wasn’t until Saturday night. A whole two days away.

  When I finished my shift, I headed home to shower and popped on a fresh pair of jeans, a singlet and a pair of sandals. I’d decided a new outfit would make me feel better about my upcoming date.

  As I stepped up to the front door and placed my hand on the handle I heard the back door slide open. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Weston strolling in. “Bad time?” he asked when he spotted me at the front door.

  “Uh kinda. I’m just heading out. Late night shopping.” I explained.

  His face brightened, “I’ll come with. I need some new jeans. And I hate shopping on my own, I feel like such a loser.”

  “You are a loser.” I joked.

  Shaking his head he lifted a brow, “Lame insult Tory. You can do better than that.”

  I looked up to the left and gnawed on the corner of my lip trying to come up with something better. But before I could Weston stormed forward, grabbed me by the waist and threw me over his shoulder.