Don't Let Go

by Michelle Lynn

  I give Brady a chaste kiss before we shut the trunk and thank him again for coming here, facing my parents. He takes our bags and my mom opens the door leading to the house. She still has short, blonde hair and an average, thin figure. Her look is typical to a mom who golfs and plays tennis at our country club, attending a few social charity events at my dad’s request.

  “I thought I heard you,” she’s exclaims, drying her hands on her apron and walking toward us.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, embracing her. She holds me tight against her and I hear her sniffle. Is she crying?

  “It’s so good to have you home.” She backs away from me, then sets her attention to Brady. “You must be Brady; it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, placing her hand out for him.

  “The pleasure’s mine, Mrs. Miller. Thank you for having me,” Brady states.

  “The honor is all ours. Please, call me Maggie,” she remarks. I look at her and see genuine happiness to have me home and meet Brady. I don’t notice any judgmental looks his way and I think he notices too. When I glance back at him, he gives me the first authentic smile I’ve seen since we landed. “Let’s get you guys settled.” She hurriedly gestures for us to go inside.

  The house is still elaborately decorated with statues and paintings worth more than my college tuition. I walk Brady upstairs and show him his room. I’m thankful he has the guest room instead of Theo’s old room. The door is shut and I don’t plan on going in there this trip either. We lay Brady’s bags on the queen-size bed.

  “How are you doing?” I ask.

  “Fine. Sadie, stop worrying about me. I can handle this,” he says, reaching down to cup my face.

  “You aren’t going to leave me if my parents are jackasses?” I ask.

  “No,” he laughs. “That’s not a deal breaker.”

  “Okay. Hey, have you found any new ones yet?” I question and grab his hand, leading him out of the room.

  “I think I’m in too deep to start thinking about deal breakers.” He smirks at me, kissing my forehead.

  We enter the hallway and I hear my grandma’s voice in the foyer. “Come on,” I say, yanking on Brady’s arm. “Meet my Grandma Ida. She’s the only sane one in the family.”

  My grandma is a petite, redhead who speaks her mind. “Sadie darling, you look so beautiful,” she says, hugging me.

  “Hi Grandma Ida, it’s good to see you,” I reply and take Brady’s hand so he is in front of her as well. “Grandma, this is Brady, my boyfriend,” I inform her, holding his hand firmly in my own.

  “Let go darling, let the boy hug me,” she insists, extending her arms.

  Brady doesn’t flinch, wrapping his arms around my small grandma. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs…”

  “Ida, just Ida,” she informs him. “Strong and gentle, good mixture.” She lets Brady go and winks my way.

  “Mom, do you want to rest before dinner?” my dad questions her, trying to get her eyes off of Brady, who smiles back to my grandma, unfazed of her admiring eyes.

  “No, I sat on my ass the whole ride here.” Brady and I chuckle and my dad rolls his eyes.

  “Come on Ida, take a seat in the entertainment room,” my mom instructs her.

  “Theo, be a dear and get my bag. I have something for Sadie and I brought my sweet potato and apple pies,” she turns to my dad and Brady looks my way, confused.

  “Sure, Mom,” my dad takes her keys and walks out the front door.

  “I told you I was going to make the pies, Ida. You didn’t need to bring anything.” My mom takes my grandma’s arm, guiding her into the other room.

  “Darling, you can cook a gourmet meal that will melt in your mouth, but I’m not about to eat some store bought pie on Thanksgiving, no matter what high-end bakery you bought it from.” Brady and I chuckle, following them.

  “My dad is Theo as well. He’s Theodore Benjamin Miller, Jr., my brother was the third,” I whisper in Brady’s ear to clarify the situation. He nods his head to me in understanding.

  I’m surprised how much Brady appears to be into football. I guess I never asked but he is sitting in the living room, cheering for the Detroit Lions along with my dad and grandma. My dad was born in Detroit but only lived there until he was three. My biological grandpa died and Grandma Ida met and married my Grandpa Pat, who brought her and my dad to live here in the east. Every Thanksgiving, they cheer on the Lions because they think of them as their hometown team.

  After I peel the potatoes, I sit next to Brady and cozy up to him but he moves over, only holding my hand. I give him a quizzical look and he shifts his eyes to my dad and then back to me. I smile, realizing he wants to be respectful. I guess I should as well.

  We all go into the dining room to have dinner. I instruct Brady to sit next to me; my parents are at each end and my grandma across from us. My grandma is right, my mom is a magnificent cook. The golden brown turkey looks juicy and delectable. The potatoes are whipped to perfection with homemade gravy, accompanied by fresh baked rolls and butter shaped into leaves. My mom knows how to entertain, even if it is just us.

  “Great job, Mags,” my dad compliments her and she gives him a tight smile back. What was that about?

  “Yes Maggie, it all looks so tasty,” my grandma joins in.

  “Thank you all, please dig in,” she says and motions with her hands out to the table.

  We all start to pass the dishes, making small talk about school and my grandma’s senior condo building. My dad talks about his clients and my mom fills me in on some former classmates of mine. When dessert arrives, the game of twenty questions starts, all of which are directed toward Brady.

  “So Brady, where is your family this holiday?” my dad asks.

  “I told Mom, his dad and mom were busy,” I answer for him and Brady squeezes my leg under the table.

  “Sadie is correct. My mom lives in Florida and my dad wasn’t available.”

  “Where does your mom live in Florida?” my grandma asks.

  “Um…Miami,” Brady stutters as though he had to think about it.

  “I go down to Melbourne Beach during the winter,” my grandma adds. “You and Sadie should come down during your holiday break.” She smiles up at us. “You could visit your mom while you’re down there.”

  “I’m sure Sadie and I would love to visit you,” Brady says, leaving his mother out. I’m afraid there are more issues than I know.

  “Come on down. Hell, I’ll pay for your ticket if you wear a speedo,” she laughs.

  “Grandma!” I shriek.

  “Mom!” my dad screams while my mom laughs along with my grandma.

  “Oh Sadie, you can’t keep that all to yourself,” she says and winks at Brady, who laughs.

  “Brady, what do your parents do?” my dad asks. “My mom is a realtor and my dad is a retired professor,” he says. I try not to look surprised; these are things I should have already known.

  “Oh, so was your father a professor at Western?” my mom asks.

  “Yes, he retired last year.” Brady never looks up, moving his pie around on the plate.

  “Wait.” My dad sets his fork down. “Is your dad Dean Carsen of Contemporary Music?”

  “Yes sir, he was,” Brady says, his voice is quiet and shaky and I wonder what I’m missing.

  “I have a friend whose son went there. He gives your dad credit for his son’s success. His name is Jack London, the producer for Heavensky Records.”

  “Yes, I know him. He used to come by the house sometimes when I was younger,” Brady says. “He also attended my dad’s retirement ceremony last year.”

  “Isn’t your dad young to already be retired?” my mom inquires.

  “He had been teaching there since he got his doctorate so he retired early in order to work on some other projects,” he says, void of any emotion.

  “Why didn’t you follow in his footsteps and pursue music?” my dad asks.

  “I wanted something different.” Brady shrugs his shoulders.
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br />   “But you are in a band, correct?” my dad clarifies.

  “Yes, but that is more of a hobby,” he answers. I notice Brady is getting exhausted from all of the questions. He isn’t an open book when it comes to his family.

  “So, I think I’m going to take a year off next year,” I blurt out to change the subject for Brady’s sake. Let the firing squad direct my way.

  “What?” my dad’s upset voice asks.

  “Dad, it’s way too late for me to apply for my Master’s. Not to mention, I don’t know where I even want to go to school,” I answer truthfully.

  “You can go back to Drayton. I can pull some strings and get them to accept you.” He continues to eat his pie as though he just solved the problem.

  “I’m not going back there,” I spat.

  “Junior, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mom chimes in. “Maybe you could go to Western. I’m sure they will understand why you haven’t applied yet.” She directs her comment to me.

  “I don’t want to. I want to take a year off,” I say, standing firm.

  “Is this your doing, Brady?” my dad asks him and I gasp. “What? Are you going to follow him and his band around the country, living in some van and getting drunk?”

  “Stop it, Dad,” I respond through clenched teeth.

  “Ohh…you’re in a band. You just keep getting better and better,” my grandma adds, smiling at Brady. His eyes are on my dad only.

  “I promise you, sir, I have nothing to do with this.” Brady removes his hand from my lap.

  “What are your plans after graduation?” My dad narrows his eyes at Brady.

  “I haven’t decided just yet, but I promise you, my band has nothing to do with it.” Brady’s eyes still haven’t left my dad’s, as though this is a showdown and Brady doesn’t want to show weakness.

  “We can discuss these issues later. Can we please just enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner?” my mom requests and everyone quiets down.

  After dinner, Brady and I help my mom clean up the dishes and then go for a drive. My mom offers me Theo’s keys but I decline, taking her car. It’s nice to finally be alone with Brady. I drive him around my hometown, seeing Theo everywhere. We stop at an ice cream place and walk over to a pond, cuddling up on a park bench.

  “Sorry for my dad today,” I apologize.

  “It’s okay, baby. I knew he expected the worst.” He pulls his arms around my shoulder tighter, kissing the top of my head.

  “It isn’t right that he said that,” I say.

  “He is your dad, Sadie. He just wants what’s best for you. I want that, too.”

  We walk back to the car, and Brady drives us back to my parents’ house. I’m happy the lights are off when we pull up. We tiptoe up the stairs and Brady kisses me goodnight at my bedroom door. I’m half afraid he will sneak out in the middle of the night so he doesn’t have to deal with my parents.

  Chapter 20

  I walk downstairs, rubbing my eyes. I stop at the bottom when I hear voices in my dad’s office. Hovering by the door for a moment, I hear my mom talking with a man who is not my dad. They are discussing Theo’s death. My mom informs him that she wants to change all of the paperwork to my name only, instructing him to combine the two accounts. They start saying their good-byes so I scramble into the kitchen where my grandma is sipping her tea at the table.

  “Good morning, Sadie dear,” she says.

  “Good morning, Grandma,” I respond.

  “Where is that hunk of a boyfriend?” she asks, winking my way.

  “I assume he’s still sleeping.” I go to the cabinet to get a mug for my coffee.

  “What are you doing down here then?” she jokes.

  “Grandma!” I scold her, laughing.

  “We have to be respectful, Ida,” Brady’s deep voice declares as he enters, and I grab another mug for him.

  “Good morning, beautiful. I missed you last night,” he whispers in my ear before kissing me on my cheek and then sitting down at the table.

  “You didn’t have to get dressed on my account,” my grandma jokes.

  Brady laughs and joins her at the table, “Good morning, Ida.”

  “Good morning, Brady. I’m glad I caught you both before Theo and Maggie come down.” She pushes her tea to the side, waiting for me to join them.

  I set Brady’s coffee in front of him and take the seat next to him. “What’s up, Grandma?” I ask.

  “Brady, don’t take it personally what Theo did last night. He just wants to protect his family. Hell, if I had a daughter and she came home with you, I would have been scared, too.” She shakes her head, imagining it.

  “Grandma, it’s just outward appearances. I know we seem different but...”

  “God Sadie, get over that. I could give a shit about that. Who cares about the clothes or hair, but I do think I would like you better with tattoos,” she says and winks at him. “It’s the two of you. There is something there that doesn’t come around often. God knows Theo and Maggie don’t have it. You two have it though. I can’t explain it except to say that when you look at each other, everyone else instantly feels like an outsider, as if you two hold some secret they don’t know about.” She finishes her tea and stands up.

  “Don’t let Theo bully you, Brady. I raised him to be a prissy bastard; should have kept him in Detroit,” she says and ventures out of the room.

  “Wise Grandma,” Brady says and leans forward.

  “Kiss me,” I say and he happily obliges.

  My mom comes in a few minutes later, after I hear the front door shut. She makes us all breakfast and my dad joins us a little later. We spend the day lounging around the house until my parents tell me that they want us to join them at the country club for dinner. I insist we will not be going but Brady contradicts me, saying we will. I wish he would stop trying to please them.

  We enter the dining room and there are way too many familiar faces here. Brady entwines our hands and I smile up at him. He is always so in tune with my feelings. I was upset he took off his bracelets and combed his hair down tonight while sporting a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. You would think he was born in this crowd if you didn’t know better but I hate it. I love him the way he is and I don’t want him changing for anyone, especially these people.

  My parents work the room, while Brady and I follow behind on the way to our table. I have been coming here for years so I know where we are sitting, but I’m trying to be respectful to my parents. To my amazement, they introduce Brady to every person we come across, but I’m sure it’s because of his new appearance tonight. My grandma talks with a couple of older gentlemen at a table by the front of the room. She already told me she was going to eat there instead of at our table. Her exact words were, ‘Sadie, I’m going to try to get lucky, so I’m sitting here rather than with your boring father.’ I just laughed and walked away. She loves men, even though I know she misses my Grandpa Pat every day.

  Relief washes over me when we finally reach the table. Brady scoots my chair out for me before he sits in his own. My dad follows suit with my mom but she doesn’t give him her usual smile, just a curt thank you instead. Something is wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. My mom has always appeared to be enamored with my dad.

  Dinner is filled with long streams of silence. I’m still mad at my dad for last night so I refuse to talk, and therefore barely any conversation is spoken. I feel bad for Brady; he looks uncomfortable while glancing over to me every once in a while. Then the unthinkable happens.

  “Brady Carsen, is that you?” a gentleman from two tables over calls out.

  Brady turns around and an instant frown appears across his face before he quickly replaces it with a fake smile. “Jack, how are you?” He stands up and holds out his hand.

  “I’m great. I thought I recognized you. What on earth are you doing here?” His enthusiasm is refreshing to our table.

  “I’m here with my girlfriend and her family,” Brady answers quietly and tur
ns toward our table. “This is my girlfriend, Sadie Miller.” I stand up and shake Jack’s hand. “These are her parents. This is Maggie and I think you know her father, Theo.”

  “Yes, nice to see you again, Theo. Pleasure to meet you, Maggie.” Jack shakes everyone’s hands.

  A couple of heads turn in our direction, wondering how my boyfriend knows the famous Jack London. Everything is who you know and what you have around here.

  “Will you accompany me tonight? I play in about an hour. Nothing spectacular, just some ballroom dancing pieces.” Jack’s appears hopeful.

  “I don’t think so,” Brady answers.

  “You should play, Brady. I would love to hear you perform,” my mom tries to change his mind.

  Brady’s eyes veer my way and I smile, encouraging him to do it.

  “Alright, maybe a couple,” he grudgingly agrees.

  “Great. Finish your dinner and I can meet you in forty-five minutes. Sound good?” Jack doesn’t wait for the answer. Brady sits back down at the table and I grab his hand under the table. It’s clammy and cold and I look at him with confused eyes, but he shakes his head.

  “I can’t wait to hear you, Brady,” my dad says with way too much sarcasm in his voice.

  I’m eager to hear Brady play, so I take a seat next to my grandma at her table where I can be right up front. My mom grabs the chair on the other side of me. I have no idea where my dad is, but I really don’t care at this point.

  Brady and Jack are on stage, fiddling with instruments and talking about what pieces they will play.

  “He really is attractive, Sadie,” my mom whispers in my ear.

  “I know,” I exclaim.

  “He seems to love you. Do you love him?” she asks.

  I stare at my mom, stunned by her question. There is something different about her since I have been home and the change is nice.

  “Yes,” I nod my head. “I’m sure it’s not what you expected from me, but I do love him, Mom.”

  “I thought so, honey. If you love each other, that’s all that matters.” Her comment makes me skeptical, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is the same woman who told me I should stay away from Kayla Jacobs because her parents couldn’t afford to belong to the country club when I was eleven. Shallow and vain have always been qualities my mom possessed.