by Shane Morgan
“Let’s hang out tomorrow before you drive back to campus, okay?”
Nodding, she replied, “Okay. Oh, you want to go to Berlin Heights Christmas Eve festival? It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah. I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Cool.”
When I drove her home, and walked her to the front door, Moya seemed unwilling to let go of my hand. Eventually, she did. I kissed her goodnight, and watched as she entered her house. All the time thinking, why was it so hard for her to say the words she’d already said to me? And how long could I go on not saying them again either?
***
Dad was sitting in the living room with the lights off, an opened bottle of whiskey in one hand as he stared into space.
“Is that you, Ashton?” he asked as I entered the room, hidden by darkness.
I turned the lights on, answering, “No. It’s Branden. Why are you sitting in the dark, drinking? I didn’t even know you liked whisky.”
I sat down in the chair next to his. “Is everything okay, Dad?”
He exhaled deeply before answering, “Yes. I’m all right.” Placing the bottle on top of the glass coffee table, Dad rubbed his eyes vigorously. I glanced down at the whiskey bottle, it was almost finished.
“Sorry about our behavior earlier,” he rasped. “Your girlfriend was probably uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, what was that about? I thought you and Mom were cool.”
“Ha. Did you see how she tried to make me look bad? Branden, I’ll tell you this,” He stood and walked over to the fireplace, slouching with his hands inside his pants pockets. “Your mother and I will never be cool. Too much has happened between us that can’t be fixed.”
Then he turned to face me. “And did you know your brother’s going to Spain to live?”
Damn. So that’s what started the bad vibe around here. “Yeah, he told me.”
“Well, of course he’d tell you this ridiculous idea first. It’s because you always support him.”
“What?” I jumped up from the chair. “It’s not ridiculous. It’s what he wants. And so what if I support him? At least someone in this family does.”
Dad pointed at me, speaking in a serious tone, “He made that decision on an impulse just to get away from us.”
“Yeah, can you blame him? I want to get away too.”
“Oh, don’t you start now.” He waved me off as if I was starting to annoy him. Walking back to the table to retrieve the whiskey, he chugged the remainder straight from the bottle.
I should stop him; take the bottle out of his hand. Clearly he was using alcohol to cure his troubles, but for some reason…I didn’t care.
“Well, isn’t this a good example you’re setting for your son.” I turned and saw a miserable figure huffing in the arched doorway. Mom. Her eyes darkened with hatred. Icy air ricocheted off her and filled the room.
“What a good father you are,” she continued mocking him.
“Oh just go to bed, woman,” Dad slurred.
Glancing back at him, I noticed his eyes were droopy and he could barely keep steady on his feet anymore. I started to feel frustrated. What the hell kind of home was this?
“Maybe you should go to bed,” I said in an angry tone, yanking the empty bottle out of his hand. I got sick of him trying to drain every last drop. Holding the bottle up to his face, I snapped, “There’s nothing left.”
He glared at me, but didn’t say anything, only walked past me towards the doorway. Dad wobbled with every step. When he reached Mom, she scoffed, then marched off up the stairs. He laughed, and headed down the hallway towards his office instead.
I stayed behind in the living room, plopping down on the sofa with my head leaned back on the soft cushion, exhausted. Again, what the hell kind of a home was this? How I wished I could curl up with Moya in my arms right now.
Just then, I took my cell phone out of my pocket and sent her a text:
I’m home now. Goodnight, babe. Sweet dreams.
Shortly after, she sent me a reply:
Goodnight, Bran. I love you.
My heart melted. I sat out on the sofa and read the text over. She had no idea how those three words made all my troubles disappear.
Grinning like an idiot, I quickly typed my reply and hit send. I wondered if she was there in bed, smiling as she read my text. Perhaps like a lullaby, it rocked her into peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Moya
I’d wanted to say those words again because I felt sure of myself—more certain now than when he was in the hospital. People often say crazy things in situations like that, and often ended up retracting their statements. Thankfully, I hadn’t regretted saying it then, even after getting some clarity.
My heart felt as if it was going to burst out of my chest if I didn’t tell Branden. I couldn’t fall asleep after he replied saying he loved me too, staying up until the wee hours thinking about seeing him again before I left for school. When sleep overcame me, I dreamt of nothing else but him.
At the crack of dawn, I climbed out of bed, washed my face, and then headed to the kitchen to make breakfast for Momma. Soon she’d be waking up to get ready for her shift at the supermarket.
By the time she came down the hallway and entered the kitchen, I had scrambled eggs with sausage and toast on a plate, and coffee with no cream in her favorite mug waiting on the oval table.
“Well, look at this,” she gushed, walking over to the table. “Oh baby you didn’t have to get up so early to do all this for me.”
“Never mind, Momma, eat before it gets cold.”
“All right.” She sat down and sipped her coffee. I joined her after fixing myself a plate.
Momma kept a watchful eye on me while eating. Her eyes narrowed when she took up the mug and drank some more coffee. Settling it down next to her plate, she said in a suspicious tone, “You don’t look right.”
Confused, I stopped eating. “What do you mean?”
She twisted on the chair and looked at me sideways. “How come you jumped out of bed so early, on a Sunday at that?”
I shrugged. “I just…have a lot of energy, I guess.”
“A lot of energy? Humph.” She went back to drinking her coffee. “And why do you keep giggling like this? You got the laughing sickness or something?”
It just so happened that I chortled my reply, “I’m in a good mood. I’m feeling great, that’s all.”
She still regarded me with suspicion. Taking a bite of a sausage, she swallowed then said unexpectedly, “You ain’t on nothing, are you baby?”
My eyes widened. I coughed as coffee rushed down my throat too fast. “Wha-what?”
“They didn’t give you anything they say supposed to boost your memory for exams, did they?”
“No.” I didn’t know if I should laugh or take her serious. “Momma, I’m not on drugs.”
She sank back on the chair and crossed a leg over the other. “I read something in the paper about a girl going to college in Florida,” she explained. “Apparently, some classmate gave her pills they say will help her remember, but it ended up driving her crazy instead. I’m just making sure my baby is all right.”
“Momma,” I placed my hand on top of hers. “I don’t take pills from people and I’m not on drugs otherwise. I’m fine.”
She tittered and continued eating, “So it’s Branden then. No wonder you’re glowing.”
Picking up my mug, I drank my coffee and prepared myself. This was going to be the moment for “that” talk. I was sure of it.
“Moya, I know you’re nineteen now, but,” And here it was. “You can talk to me about sex. I mean, if y’all getting that serious—”
“I know.”
“I’m only saying, things can get pretty heated fast so be safe—”
Awkward.
“Momma, trust me, I’m keeping safe.”
Pursing her lips, she eyed me seriously. “Still, I’m letting you know there’s nothing you can�
�t talk to me about.”
I nodded and peered up at the clock hanging next to the refrigerator. “You’re cutting it close today.”
Remembering she had work, Momma shot up and carried her plate and coffee mug over to the sink.
“Leave them. I’ll do the dishes in a bit,” I said.
She turned and smiled at me, coming over to give me a peck on the forehead. “Thank you, baby. I’ll probably be back before you take off for Harrington.”
“Okay. You better get going.”
“Remember what I said.” She patted my head then hurried over to the counter to get her keys.
“Yes, Momma, see you later.”
“Bye, girlie,” she waved on her way out the front door.
I finished up my breakfast then did the dishes, heading into the living room to do some cleaning before Branden came by to pick me up. We were going to have lunch then check out a Sunday matinee at Berlin Heights’ little cinema.
While dusting the Oakwood ladder shelf, I heard a knock at the door. It was still early so it couldn’t have been Branden already.
I walked over to the window. Easing away the sheer white curtains, I saw it was Calvin outside. This was a surprise. He and I were not friends. We agreed to get along for Vanessa’s sake.
Going over to the front door, I opened it with one hand on my hip, not in the mood for whatever arguments he and Nessa had this time.
“Calvin, it’s early, and we ain’t cool like that.”
“Nessa here?” he shushed, seeming annoyed. Taking in his troubled appearance—weary eyes, wrinkled t-shirt, gray sweats and matching hoodie—he looked as if he rolled out of bed and came searching for his girlfriend.
“No,” I creased my forehead, perplexed. “She’s at her house.”
“Obviously she’s not, genius; hence, why I’m standing at your door. Her mom said she was here ‘cause Nessa told her she was sleeping over. Now where is she?”
He inched closer, trying to come inside to look around for himself. I sucked my teeth and eased him back out on the porch.
“Are you deaf? I just said she’s not here. She’s probably really at home and avoiding you.”
“She’s not. Look, if you know where she is, tell me.”
“Calvin, the last time I saw Nessa was yesterday before she left Harborplace to go meet you.”
“Say what?” He screwed up his face in confusion. “I didn’t see her yesterday. I had practice.”
Uh-oh.
“Um,” Not sure what to say next, I peered at one of the columns on the porch. If Vanessa wasn’t meeting him, then who was waiting for her yesterday?
“Maybe…” I searched my head for an excuse; never been good at lying. “She probably went to see another friend and stayed there for the night. Nessa’s been sick since going to your game last week so—”
“She never went to my game last week. She said her joints hurt too much and she had to stay in bed.”
This was getting even worse. My best friend had been lying to both of us it seemed.
“So, when was the last time you saw her?” I had to ask because it didn’t seem like they’d been talking much.
Calvin ran his hand over his low-cut hair, letting out a deep sigh. “We had a fight two weeks ago. I called her and apologized, but she’s been making excuses why we can’t meet up. If it’s not studying, then it’s because she’s sick. I don’t know. I’m starting to worry…about us.”
He stuck his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants and gazed around my porch, trying to figure out what was going on with his girlfriend. I could only draw one conclusion from hearing this: Nessa was cheating. Suddenly, I felt as if I didn’t know my friend at all.
“Anyways,” Calvin continued. “Tell her to call me. Tell her I want to know what’s going on,” he said in a sad whisper. I wanted to sympathize, but couldn’t. Their light switch relationship overwhelmed me, and I wasn’t even a part of it.
“I will,” I replied, closing the front door as soon as he walked away. Then I treaded down the hallway to my bedroom, picking up my cell phone off the end table.
Branden’s text from last night popped up when I touched the screen. I couldn’t help a smile, but then remembered what my intention was. I called Vanessa’s phone. It went straight to voice mail so I left her a message:
“I know what you’ve been up to. Call me ASAP.”
***
Not too long after getting some stuff together to take to school with me, Branden showed up. It seemed whenever I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes I forgot about everything and everyone else.
We hung out for a while at my house, lounging on the sofa, and I figured I’d make lunch for him here instead of spending money at a restaurant. He was determined to go out though.
“Bran, it’s really no big deal. I can whip us up something in seconds.”
“I know you can,” he stood from the sofa and pulled me up into his strong arms. “But I really want to try out this place. I rarely come to Berlin Heights, remember?”
I caved. “All right. So I take it you still want to watch a movie too?”
He held my hand, leading me to the front door. “Actually, I thought we could do something else.”
Getting my denim jacket by the door, I asked as we stepped out onto the porch, “Something else?”
Branden shrugged, grinned sneakily, and nudged me towards his car. He opened the passenger door for me and said softly, “You’ll see.”
Then he hurried around to the driver’s side, bringing the engine to life the instant he hopped in and closed the door. He looked particularly excited now. With any luck his surprise wouldn’t shock me too much.
Branden drove to a riverside restaurant looking out at Downtown Baltimore in the distance. I hadn’t been to this place in a while. In fact, the last time I was here, it was two days before my dad moved out.
“You want to eat here?” I confirmed, getting out of the car once Branden found parking on the street and paid the meter.
“Yep.”
We walked hand in hand into the restaurant. The second I entered, he pointed to a table in the back. A familiar man was sitting there, waiting.
“What’s my dad doing here?” I turned and asked Branden. I wasn’t upset, only surprised.
“He’s not working today, and you’ll be back in school by tomorrow and won’t have time. So just hang out with him a bit.” He placed his hand at the arch of my back and prodded me forward.
I felt a tad nervous. When I went to my dad’s birthday party a few weeks ago, he was busy trying to mingle with everyone who attended so we didn’t get to talk much. Today would definitely be different. I still had a lot to say, but with him, I’d turn shy unless he mentioned something about my mother.
Dad stood when we drew closer. “Hey there, baby girl. How you doing?” he leaned in and gave me hug.
I hugged him back and breathed out my reply, “I’m good. You?”
“Life’s good,” he replied.
After he gave Branden a firm handshake, we sat down at the table, both guys on opposite ends. Dad’s dark brown almond-shaped eyes never left me. He looked so proud to be my father.
“How’ve you been? How’s the jewelry business?” I asked.
“Good. I’m still holding a position at the store for you if you want a job—”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” I cut him off. “I found a job at the plaza near school. I’m starting after the holiday. It’s easier for me because I can work after classes in the days.”
“I see,” he appeared somewhat disappointed. “Anyway, that aside, I’d love for us to see each other more often, but I know school’s keeping you busy.”
I nodded, “Yeah. Finals are this week too.”
“You’re gonna do great. You’ve always been a smart kid. I ain’t worried.”
“Thank you,” I smiled.
Looking at Branden, he said, “Thanks, for calling me and getting us together.”
“Su
re thing, sir,” he enthused. “She needed to see you. She’s been looking down for a while because you haven’t been getting the chance to talk. No matter what she says.”
I peered over at Branden and defended myself, “I haven’t been down. We’ve both been preoccupied with a lot of things.”
He leaned his head to the side and said to my dad, “See.”
Dad laughed. “Yeah, she’s always been a stubborn kid, and she always pushed things aside.”
Of course he’d still know that about me. “Okay, are you two finished? I’d like to eat.”
They both glanced at each other, passing a silent remark, and then they took up their menus to decide on what to order.
“Oh, your momma told you about inviting me to Christmas dinner?” Dad asked in an afterthought.
I put my menu down. “She did.”
Placing his menu back on the table as well, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “She told you after she invited me, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
“Just like your momma, always making the final decision before cluing us in, huh?” he grinned slightly.
I couldn’t help plunging into defense mode where I wanted to back up my momma. “She doesn’t like leaving things the way they are. She’s only trying to make it better.”
He gestured his hand for me to calm down. “Moya, don’t get mad. I wasn’t bashing your momma. I was only saying she should at least discuss things with the people involved before making her decisions.”
“You mean like how she decided you wouldn’t be in my life without asking you first? But you proved her right anyway when you gave up.”
“Moya…” Branden piped in; disappointed his lunch date wasn’t turning out so good.
Dad raised his hand to stop him. “Oh no, it’s okay. She needs to get it out.” He rested his elbows on top of the table, clasping his knuckles together. “Go on,” he urged. “Tell me how bad I’ve been and how great your momma is; because that’s all you ever do.”
I was getting frustrated. How dare him. “She’s a good mother; she did a lot for me—”