by Shane Morgan
“All right, Bran, if you say so.” I heard her yawn, obviously tired from a long day.
“I’ll let you get some sleep then.”
“Hmm, okay. I’ll call you when I get home tomorrow evening.”
“Cool. Sweet dreams, Moya.”
“You too, Branden,” she whispered before ending the call. I sensed there was an itch to say more, on her part and mine.
We hadn’t said “I love you” since that whole ordeal in the hospital. Maybe she’d given more thought to it and concluded it was too soon. And in trying to keep her comfortable, I’d done the same. There was this fear gnawing at my heart too, that maybe she didn’t love me yet. Not the way I did.
Just as I reached over and placed my cell phone on top of the end table by my bed, I heard a light rap on my door. Ashton opened it and stuck his head inside.
“Can we talk, bro?” he asked, coming in.
I stood. “Sure. What’s up?”
He seemed troubled. Then again, Ashton was often troubled, in between focusing on football, college, and girls.
“Well, I told you I was going on this study abroad thing, right?”
“Yeah?”
“So, actually, I was thinking about transferring to the college in Spain completely and finishing up there.”
Surprised, I raised my brows and asked, “What? Why do you wanna do that?”
Folding his arms, he started to pace from left to right. “I like Spain.”
“Yeah, okay. Tell me the real reason.”
He stopped and looked me straight in the eye. “I’m being honest. Traveling is something I’ve always wanted to do and Spain is a start.”
I blew hard before saying, “Wow. So what about football? Are you giving that up?”
He shook his head and stared at the carpet. “It’s not for me anymore. I just don’t have fun playing like I used to.”
“You’re giving up football, and you’ll be completing your studies at some Spanish college?” I confirmed.
“Yep,” he bobbed his head slowly.
“Okay. I’m confused, just how are you going to explain this to Dad, not to mention Mom? She’s going to go berserk when she hears.”
“I know that, but whatever. They’re just gonna have to deal with it. They have their own issues anyway.”
I blew out a deep breath. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, look,” he turned and opened the door. “I just wanted to be straight with you before taking off.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Before stepping out into the hallway, he peered back at me and ask, “You cool, little bro?”
I sat on the edge of my bed, nodding, “Yeah. I’m cool. Good luck, Ash.”
“Thanks.”
Closing my door, I heard his footsteps bustling down the stairs. He left me thinking, how flipped out our parents would be when he told them his decision, and how I wish it was me leaving this house instead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Moya
Friday didn’t come soon enough. By the end of the day, I was driving home to Berlin Heights with Vanessa. She looked better than she did yesterday, only her voice still sounded hoarse.
“I can’t wait for this cold to go away. Don’t want to be sick over the holiday,” she groaned, getting tissue out of her purse to wipe her nose.
“Well, until then, you just keep it to yourself, sweetie. I hate being sick. I’m the most miserable person in the world when I have a cold.”
Vanessa managed a laugh in the middle of her coughing. “I know that’s right. Not even your own momma wants to be around you when the green goblin comes out,” she joked.
Suddenly, the air tensed. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about my family issues, and right about now, I knew she was going to take it there. She’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
“How are things with y’all now?”
“It’s…all right.”
“All right as in after coming close to losing Branden you realized being mad isn’t worth it, or all right as in you’re just not going to talk about it and leave things unsettled between you and your momma and give her one dry conversation for the rest of your life?”
Vanessa knew me well enough to answer her own question. We’d been best friends since her family moved to Berlin Heights and she started going to my elementary school. It didn’t take her long to learn everything about me, especially how I coped with things, or rather, how I didn’t handle things and only pushed them aside.
“Moya?”
“Huh?” I snapped out of my thoughts.
“Are you getting anywhere with your father?” she pressed.
“Forgiveness takes time,” I said softly.
“But y’all were hugging at the hospital. So, how come there hasn’t been any progress?”
“Because...” she was starting to frustrate me with her questions. I still had the feeling of abandonment gnawing at my heart, and I wanted to deal with it on my own. “School’s been keeping me busy. I’ll call him during the break.”
My voice sounded a shakier than normal. I wondered if Vanessa noticed my apprehension and eagerness to drop the subject.
She sighed. “So stubborn. That sounds to me like you’re not even trying. I don’t get it. Girl, your father’s back. I know it’s what you’ve secretly wanted all these years. Now do something.”
I heard a pang of hurt in her voice, possibly from not having her own father around. Still, it was hard for me. Not only was I scared of rebuilding what had been missing for years, I was hesitant of allowing myself to believe my father would stay in my life and not disappear again. No matter what caused him to leave before.
Thankfully, Vanessa didn’t push further. The rest of the drive home remained peaceful with only the emotional, heartwarming, and honey-like harmonies of a Toni Braxton’s song, Hero. The purity in her flawless voice, enforced with realistic lyrics, instantly reminded me of Branden and the way he broke down my walls with ease, filling me with a passion I hadn’t experienced before. Indeed, my heart never had a hero, and he was mine.
I arrived in our neighborhood in no time, pulling up outside of my house. Turning the car off, I glanced over at the driveway. Momma’s car was there.
“Wanna go to the mall in the morning?” Vanessa asked before getting out.
“Sure. I need some stuff for winter.”
“Cool.” She reached over to the backseat and grabbed her bag. I did the same.
As we stepped out of the car, she said, “Remember girl, life is short. Don’t play with it.”
Funny how people who’d lost loved ones said that more often than others who hadn’t.
I walked around to where she was standing, giving her a light pat on the arm. “I know.”
“Well, thanks for the ride as always.” Vanessa angled her head to the side and made a grateful pout, spreading her arms apart to give me a hug.
I backed up and lifted my palms, stopping her. “I love you, but no hugs until you’re better and I don’t hear you sniffling your nose every minute.”
“Dang, Ms. Thang. Don’t act like you’ve never had a cold.” She sucked her teeth, pursed her lips, and rolled her eyes playfully.
“Hey, I don’t wanna catch it,” I defended.
“Fine. I’m going home. Bye.”
Vanessa draped her backpack over one shoulder and strutted past me.
“Bye,” I chortled, watching as she rounded the corner to her house.
Looking back at mine, my smile faded a bit as I entered the gate and walked up the porch steps. Here we go.
“I’m home,” I called out as I opened the front door. “Hey, baby.” Momma came out of the kitchen, meeting me in the foyer. The house smelled like soup. “How was the drive home?” She wrapped her arms around me. I lightly hugged her back, wanting to forgive and forget, and recapture that mother-daughter closeness we had before.
I had to try.
“The drive was all right,” I muttered as she pull
ed away to let me catch my breath. “Nessa came down with me too. She caught a cold.”
“Oh,” she frowned. “Poor thing. Well, at least her momma’s a nurse so she can get better faster than most. You want to snack on something before dinner, baby? I made brownies.”
I nodded and followed her into the kitchen where she was boiling her favorite pumpkin soup. Leaning against the counter, I took a bite into a brownie then asked, “Almost done?”
Momma stirred the pot, tapped the spoon at the side, and placed it on top of the counter beside the stove. “Almost.”
For a moment, she stood staring at me, picking at her apron. Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to say something, but not quite sure of the right words.
I eased away from the counter. “I’m going to read a bit until the soup’s ready.”
Turning to head out of the kitchen, Momma called out to me before I went down the hall to my bedroom. “Please don’t be upset…”
Perplexed, I spun to face her. “Upset about what?”
She wiped her hands on the apron as she spoke. “I invited your daddy to Christmas dinner.”
Honestly, I wasn’t surprised.
“It’s fine. I’m not upset.”
She stared at me with a quizzical look in her eyes. “You sure, baby?”
“Yeah, Momma,” I smiled as I spoke calmly. “Why would I be upset? I mean, you made the decision to kick him out of my life, and now you’re making the decision to bring him back. It’s all up to you.”
Her eyes sank, her face dropped. She was deeply hurt. Things just kept slipping out without me thinking first. When did I become so insensitive to my own mother?
Remembering what Branden said about taking baby steps, and Vanessa reminding me that life was short, I swallowed my pride and walked up to her.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to fix things, and I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with—”
“You have every right to be mad at me, baby girl,” she cut me off. “There’s no way you could up and forgive me for what I did, not this soon. I just…” she looked at my hands, taking them into hers. They were warm, comforting, yet coarse from working so hard. “It’s a lot to ask, but could you please try?”
This time, I wrapped my arms around her. “I am trying, Momma. I am.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Branden
“Branden, what’s this?” Mom asked, yanking my earplugs out. The music was on blast so I didn’t hear her come down to the den. She waved an envelope and a sheet of paper in front of my face. I got off the treadmill and took them from her.
Even though the letter was addressed to me, that didn’t stop her from opening it. “Snooping through my mail now, Mom?”
“Irrelevant,” she scoffed. “Why is Easton University’s athletics department mailing you about your medical records? You’re not thinking about playing hockey again, are you?”
I walked away from her and picked up my towel off the suede ottoman. Sitting down to catch my breath, I wiped beads of sweat off my face and neck. When I looked up at her again, I noticed her distress.
“I’m doing much better now,” I assured her.
“Oh, my God!” Her eyes widened. “You are! Branden, we’ve been over this already—”
I didn’t let her finish scolding me. “Doctor Henderson said I could give it another shot since the disease is completely gone.”
Her forehead wrinkled. Mom had a dark look in her eyes as she spoke. “He also said there’s a slight chance it might come back.”
“Exactly!” I stood and tossed the towel over my shoulder. “A slight chance; one in a billion. Mom, you have to support me on this. Hockey’s my dream.”
Looking back at the letter in my hand, she pleaded in a somber tone, “I don’t have to support this. Branden, please don’t do this to me. I don’t want to go through that pain again.”
I gazed down and kicked at the carpet with my sneakers, considering what she just said. She stepped past me and went back up the stairs, leaving her words floating in the air around me.
Mom could be inconsiderate with some of the things she’d say. Hadn’t she seen the impact sentences like those had on me?
I walked over to the glass window in the den and peered out at the river, sighing. The fog was thick outside. It hovered over the dark river. I could hardly spot the bridge in the distance.
Her words still lingered in my head. They struck me hard, weighing heavy on my chest. I was the one who had gone through it. I was the one who had stared death in the face. Not her. She was still making it all about her.
“Bran!” Ashton yelled from atop the stairs.
I continued staring out at the foggy river as I answered, “Yeah?”
“You have a visitor.”
My head spun away from the window and I headed for the stairs. It couldn’t be Moya. She was having dinner with us tomorrow night.
“Who is it?” I asked, reaching the top.
“Some kid named Warren.”
Warren? I hadn’t spoken to him since I got sick again at the start of the semester and had to take a leave of absence from school.
As I approached the living room, I saw him checking out my mom’s antiques. He seemed really fascinated with the ugly eagle sculpture she got as a souvenir from her trip to Dominican Republic. Then again, that’s where his parents were from.
I entered, saying, “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
Warren turned and gave me a quick handshake and light pat on the shoulder. “Hey, dude. How’re you doing? I heard what happened to you. Listen, I know we didn’t get to hang out much or really got to know each other, but if you ever need a friend, you know?”
“Thanks, man.” I nodded and gestured for him to have a seat on the couch. I sat on the chair opposite. “So, how’s everything going? Found a new roommate yet?”
“Yeah, some party animal,” he laughed, as if he wasn’t like that too. “You starting classes next semester or…?”
“Definitely. I really want to get back on track.”
“That’s cool, man. I’m looking to switch things up for myself too. I even joined the basketball team.”
Amazed by this news, my brows went up. Warren was short, and thinner than most players on the college team. “Oh yeah? I didn’t take you for the sports type.”
He let out a short laugh and said, “Well, it’s partly my dad’s idea, but I figured I should be more involved, you know? Take full advantage of my college experience. I’m even taking it easy with all the dating, going the one girl route like you.”
Another surprise. “Hey, that’s good. All the best.”
“Thanks, dude. Oh, didn’t you play a sport in high school? I remember hearing that somewhere…” he searched his head for the source.
I answered anyway, “I did. I played hockey for a while; thinking about starting it up again.”
Suddenly, his face tensed. “But, I thought—”
“So, you heading home for the holidays?”
Warren understood that I was trying to change the subject, appearing more unnerved now. “I am. I don’t live too far from here, just down by Meredith Creek.”
“Oh, that’s cool. My parents own a cabin out there.”
“Nice.”
That’s where I planned on taking Moya for our weekend getaway. She’d like it.
“Well, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” He got up from the couch.
“Sure thing.” I stood as well, shook his hand, and then walked him to the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. I know you’re busy with finals coming up.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you soon.”
The second Warren left, I retracted the negative assumption I’d made about him in the beginning. He wasn’t a bad guy after all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Moya
After finishing up our shopping at Harborplace in downtown Baltimore, Vanessa and I decided to have lunch at a shrimp eatery inside the mall
. Her cold symptoms had eased up, making the day more fun and relaxing.
We sat at one of the tables by the window with the view of the harbor. Even though it was cold outside, there were still tourists in the harbor taking pictures of the popular USS Constellation naval ship and other nearby attractions.
“Branden coming to the Annual Christmas Eve Festival?” Vanessa asked, helping herself to one of my crab cakes.
“I hadn’t even mentioned it to him.”
Her brows shot up. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “Forgot. What about Calvin? He never comes to the festival.” That always made me curious, how Vanessa and Calvin never saw each other on Christmas or New Year’s.
“Cause he’s always going out of state with his fam,” she replied, playing it cool.
I suggested, “He should stay back one year, spend the holiday with you, or even take you along.”
She quickly changed the subject. “What do you think we should get our moms for Christmas?”
I hoped things were really good between her and Calvin, and she wasn’t pretending with me. I knew my best friend well, but sometimes, I feared I didn’t know her well enough.
Accepting Vanessa’s evasion, I went along and answered her question, “I’m going to treat mine to a day at the spa. She’s been complaining about her feet and back lately. A relaxing massage would be nice for her. She’ll like that, maybe yours will too?”
“Mmm hmm.” She drank some soda, a sly grin playing at her lips as she said, “I could use a massage myself; have some sexy masseuse oil me down and loosen me up.” She winked at me. “I love the Spanish ones too. They just hit the right spots.”
Not in the least bit surprised by her remark, I snorted. If a stranger heard Vanessa talking they’d think she was single. “Girl, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
She tittered. “And I love him dearly.”
“I don’t know about you sometimes?”
I was starting to notice how she kept glancing at her phone, checking for a text or something. So I decided to ask, “What are you waiting—”
“Hello, ladies. Nice seeing you here,” the deep voice disturbed me.