by C C Monroe
“I can’t, Shayla, I need to clear my head. I’ll come home soon.”
“Trey… Please, I know you need the space, but I don’t want you to be alone. I’m scared that you’re gonna get hurt, you aren’t in the right mind.” Kingston starts to rub my arm. He bends to kiss my forehead and I close my eyes to cry. I feel so hopeless; like I can’t do anything for the man I love.
“I’ll be fine, Shayla. I’ll be home soon, don’t worry about me…okay?” he asks, but it sounds more like a plea than anything. I hesitate to answer, not sure what else to say, formulating the right words to convince him to come home seems impossible.
“Okay…yeah…” He releases a breath.
“Hey, baby?”
“Yeah?” I sit up, leaning into the phone as if it were him and he were right here.
“I love you, I promise I’ll come home to you, okay?” One single tear is falling, my eyes are clenched shut, and I nod. Not sure what else I can do, but let him be, let him have his time.
“I love you, too, baby. I really do love you,” I confess to him over and over like a prayer.
About to hang up, Kingston speaks up, Lana and I both looking to him when he talks. “Hey, I’m sorry. I love you, dude. Come back home to her, she needs you like you need her.” I have never heard my brother say ‘I love you’ to Trey like that before. Sure he says it, but usually it’s after a joke or when he’s finished busting his balls. I look over to Lana and she’s staring at Kingston with a soft smile. That is the same look I give Trey, like he’s the keeper of the universe.
“I will, man, I love you, too. I love all of you.” We all share smiles, sad eyes, but genuine smiles. My heart hurts, I want him home.
The call ends and I lean back into Kings.
“What the heck happened, love bug?” Lana asks. I shake my head and bite my lip.
“God, you guys, it was awful.” I tell them everything that went down tonight and after a strong cry fest and the comfort of my brother and best friend, I calm down enough to put on a movie and wait for Trey.
Trey
HOME. I STARE UP AT the house that brings me home. I see the single light on in the living room. The clock on the dash reads 9:30 p.m., which tells me I got here in less than three hours. I haven’t been here since my father died. I avoided it like the plague, not ready to see the pictures of his smiling face hanging along the walls, or the smell of him in every room I enter. But here I sit outside. Home.
I get out of the truck, shutting the door and righting my jeans, adjusting them on my hips. Looking around at all the details as I take slow steps toward the front door, the little details of the house seem so much bigger in my claustrophobic state.
Taking my key, I slowly slide it into the lock and turn. The sound echoing through me, as well as the front entryway. I know Kathy is here, I know she is in the living room, probably reading, she used to do that every night. I remember it clear as day. No matter the night, I would come home from hanging with Kings, Lana, and Shay, or coming in drunk from some underage party, whatever night it was she was always there waiting for me with a book. Not waiting to discipline me, not waiting to yell, just waiting to make sure I got home safely, in one piece, like a real mother would.
“Mom?” I announce myself from the doorway, shutting it behind me.
“Trey, baby?” I stay where I am and wait for her to find me.
Rounding the corner from the front room, she peers up at me with a worried expression. When she sees the lost look on my face, she reacts.
“Oh, honey, what happened?” Walking right into me, her small frame engulfs me, her tiny arms wrapping around my chest, where she lays her head against my pecs. I return the embrace, clinging to her for comfort.
“Mom… Gwen left, she lied then she left,” I mumble out fast.
“Wow, wow, wow, baby, calm down, take a deep breath. Her hands rub up and down my back, and I won’t lie, I feel like a child again. For the first time in my life, I feel like a boy not a man.
She walks us into the living room, setting us down and I do my best to not lose it when I see my father’s pictures lining the wall. I notice Kathy’s book sitting open on the arm of the couch and it brings a smirk to my face for the first time in hours. I knew she was reading.
“Okay, tell me what happened?” she asks.
I do just that, in great detail, leaving nothing out. I tell her about Gwen and I and how we seemed so close to healing, when really it was all just a lie, but for what? I don’t think she did it just to try and change her mind about hating me. Which, by the way, those words cut open new wounds. Her words hit me harder than the ones in the letter she left my father. The entire time I tell her the shitstorm, she holds my shaking hand, my knee bouncing with quick motion as I lay my fucking heart out.
“Well.” I look up at her after I finish and she starts. Her lips are pursed to the side, her eyes are squinted, she looks mad. Holy shit, I have never seen Kathy mad, I have seen her every other emotion, but this is new. “Screw her,” she finishes bluntly.
“What?” I’m sure I misunderstood her.
“You heard me, son. She’s the one who’s missing out, she lost out on having you in her life for the second time. She’s obviously mentally unstable and can’t see what greatness she had in her son.” Her words feel welcoming, making my heartbeat settle.
“What would Dad say if he were here to hear this?” I swallow past the dry lump in my throat, the question leaving me before I have time to think about it. Her eyes flutter shut and she smiles.
They slowly reopen and she looks over to me. “Your father would pat your back, squeeze your shoulder, and say something about you being a better man and learning from this experience. Charles was always a positive man, looking for ways to see the light in even the darkest places.” She smirks, turning her head to the left, finding the photo of us three on my graduation day. My eyes follow and land on the memory adorning the mantel.
“My dad loved you so much, Kathy. We both loved you the moment you came into our lives, it may have just taken me longer to know it.” I look at the picture, it paints the picture of what a strong family looks like, what a loving family is. Smiles on our faces, joy in our eyes, my parents holding onto me tightly, their smiles prideful.
“I loved you since the moment your father let me meet you.” She smirks, I squeeze her hand in mine. Looking at our joined hands, she speaks again, “You know I may never be able to fill the void Gwen left but, Trey, you filled the void in mine. I never could have children, and I knew it was because God was waiting for me to find you. I never needed another; all I ever needed was you. Blood doesn’t make you my son, love does.”
“Mom…” I whisper on a released breath, pulling her into my side. How can she not think that she isn’t that important to me? Shit, maybe I never told her enough, or have I just been so wrapped up in fixing things with Gwen that I neglected to see Kathy right in front of me the whole time?
I kiss the top of her head, running my hand up and down her arm. “Mom, I do love you and you are my mother. The real deal, I know now, more than ever, that you were what I needed.” She sniffles and turns her head up at me, kissing my cheek and patting the other with her hand.
“My boy.” Kathy never could have children, never did I think of that in great detail, since I was selfishly worrying about me and my past. I healed Kathy and this whole time, if I would have just let the past go and paid attention, she could have healed me way sooner.
“You are heaven-sent, Mom, and I promise we will spend more time together. Mother and son,” I finish, smiling.
With a gleam in her eyes and her face drawn in contentment, she whispers, “I would love to spend more time with you, my sweet boy.” We untangle ourselves and she stands, straightening out her shirt. “Now, I made meatloaf, I have some left over if you would like some. You hungry?”
“Yes.” I wink, standing. I fucking love her meatloaf; it’s my comfort food when I come home.
“Go
od. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
IT’S NEARLY MIDNIGHT WHEN KATHY and I finish talking, I debate staying, but if I’m being honest, I just want to get home to my little woman. I need to be with her, let her know I’m not angry with her, or running. She sounded beyond worried on the phone when she called me earlier that I almost turned around, but tonight was needed, I needed time with my mother. My real mother, the one who never walked away, even now.
Kathy didn’t have to stay, she could have easily walked away after Pops died, but instead she stayed right here, by my side, waiting for me to come to her. I wish she lived closer; in fact, I may try and convince her to move. She is way too far from Shayla and I.
I do need to apologize to Shayla. Honestly, I don’t know why I even asked her if she did the shit my mom was accusing her of, I guess I just needed to hear her say it. Have her ground me, remind me that she would never hurt me. I was vulnerable, weak—I can admit that.
I’m tired, my eyes blinking rapidly as I start up the car. I’m so fucking ready to get home to my bed, a bed I know Shayla will be waiting in. I plug my dead phone into the car charger and mess with the stations as I wait for it to power up. Not finding anything on the radio, I switch to my CD player. I have had Anthem Lights playing on repeat all week, they’ve got my creative juices going and tonight is no damn exception. The words meaning something much deeper tonight, speaking in volumes to my current situation.
Before leaving the house, my phone dings and I check it.
Little Woman: I miss you, Trey, please come home. I am so sorry for everything. Please be safe. I love you…
I read it a couple of times before replying.
Me: I fucking love you. I’m on my way home to you, angel. Don’t fucking apologize, you did nothing wrong.
Throwing my phone back into the cup holder, I hit the road, the empty highway leading me back to my safe haven. My mind filled with images of Shayla, her defending me and protecting me.
When I finish that thought, I strike a new one. A memory, my favorite memory of Shayla and me.
“Wake up, Shay.” I look down at Shayla’s beautiful sleeping form. Her head lying against the plush pillow, her burgundy hair a mess around her. The sheet, wrapped around her beautiful figure, feels cold against my hands. I lean over her, sweeping the hair on her face out of the way.
She stirs. “Trey?” Blinking a few times, she pushes up and looks around the dark room. The only light coming in is from the streetlight outside of her bedroom window.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry, I just wanted to go for a drive.” She squints at the alarm clock next to her bed.
“Trey, it’s 1:30 in the morning. What’s wrong?” She rubs her eyes. I don’t tell her the truth. Tonight, I heard my dad and Kathy talking about my mother. My dad was telling Kathy about the affairs, it had me fucking torn up. I need to get out and the only person I want to have next to me is Shayla.
“Nothing, but we’re wasting moonlight, so up, beautiful.” She shakes her head and smirks, she’s used to my craziness. However, I’m not used to that perfect fucking smile, the one that ignites the electricity in my body every motherfuckin’ time.
“You’re crazy, where’s Kingston?” I move aside so she can get out of bed, when her perfect little pink toes peek out and hit the floor, I admire her legs, free from anything. When she stands, that’s when I notice she’s wearing my football jersey. That’s where my extra one went! Sure, I graduated already so I don’t need it; I just never knew where it had disappeared.
I’m tilting my head and admiring her petite, tight body in my jersey, the pride in my chest swelling when she calls me out of my gawking. “Sorry, it’s comfy and you left it here after your last game. Hope you aren’t mad.” Looking up, I see the outline of her sexy plump lip between her white teeth. I could never be mad, especially with the sight in front of me.
“Never. You can keep it, baby girl.” Letting her lip go, she smiles and makes her way to the bathroom.
“Perfect. Give me a second, I need to get dressed.” I nod and sit on the bed, thinking about her in my jersey until she comes back out. In her skinny jeans and loose tank, she grabs her loose cardigan and throws it on. No makeup on and her hair a wild mess, she looks more beautiful than ever. I hate that I’m falling in love with my best friend, and I can’t have her. I can’t even fucking tell her.
“Ready, big guy?” I’m still too busy looking at her that all I can make my body do is a nod of my head.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” She slips on her Chucks and I smirk.
“Shayla, you’re fucking beautiful. Whoever gets to have you forever better realize he isn’t good enough.” Only half of her face can be seen from the bathroom light shadowing behind her silhouette. I see her lone dimple, telling me she’s smiling. I wish I could be that man, I really fucking do.
Breaking our moment, she brushes off my comment and starts walking toward me. “How did you get in here anyway?”
“Your brother gave me a key a while back. I used it since your dad sleeps like the dead. I knew he wouldn’t wake up.” Shayla snorts, chucking the jersey at me, hitting me. I laugh quietly with her, standing to meet her at the door.
“Is Kingston home? I know he was out at a party tonight, I actually thought you both were.” I shake my head, standing and righting my faded jeans.
“He’s out at the party still, I didn’t go this time, wasn’t in the mood. Now move it, we’re wasting moonlight, like I said.” I grab her arm and move us quickly but quietly down the stairs and out of the house. Jumping into my truck, I make sure she is belted in tight.
“I’m not a child, you know.” She gives me a stern look and I wave her off.
“No, but I like to keep you safe, call it cautious.”
“Call it psychotic.”
“Only for you, baby girl.” Winking, she pushes me the rest of the way out of the truck and I shut the door.
When I settle into my seat, I grin over at her. “Ready?”
“Sure, do I even have a choice? You kidnapped me.”
“Can’t take the willing!” My engine roars to life, and I back out of the drive. Hitting the road, I head for Payson Canyon.
“I love this song,” she says. We stayed quiet for most of the drive, until now.
“Turn it up,” I instruct her. She does and I listen to the sound of her off-key voice. Even her flaws sound so damn good. Our favorite band Parachute is playing in the background, the familiar lyrics of “Drive You Home” making my heart feel lighter than what it was when I picked her up. That’s not the entire reason; Shayla is the reason behind it, for the most part. I watch her head sway to the music, the summer night air traveling in through the window. Shayla looks over to me, the chorus blaring loud, her infectious smile a sight to fucking see. I lift my head and signal her to scoot over, she complies, and I thank the easy access of my older pickup truck, no middle console just a long seat so she can slide right into my side.
Just being in her presence has made me forget all the terrible shit I learned about my mom tonight. So much so that I nearly forget all the details of what was said. Her warm body meets my side and I feel whole. Wrapping one arm around her shoulder, she leans her head on my chest. My other hand stays firm on the steering wheel, while her delicate fingers play with my rough ones over her shoulder. We don’t speak, we just sing and enjoy the night air and each other.
As we enter the canyon, she kisses my knuckles, and I feel the strings attached to my heart, that she holds, tug. What is this feeling?
We listen to a few more songs, share some laughs, and enjoy the company of each other before pulling up to the lake.
Shutting the car off, Shayla removes herself from me and I nearly pull her back into me, hating the loss of her body heat.
“What are we doing here?” she asks, looking out at the water where my headlights shine over the slow moving ripples.
“Just you watch.” Climbing out, I wink at her; she blushes�
��fucking blushes, shit that was cute, before climbing out. Leaning into the cab of my truck, I pull out the sleeping bags and blankets I brought, along with some of her favorite candy, then the final bag with matches.
“Trey, are we going to sleep out here?”
“You don’t miss a thing. Yes, baby girl, we are.” I have called Shayla ‘baby girl’ since she was fourteen and now that she is nearly eighteen; the ‘baby’ in that nickname is becoming something that causes my chest to light on fire.
“Oh my God! Yay!” She jumps excitedly, looking around to make sure no one saw her. I know no one did because we’re alone, I already checked when I hopped out.
“And a fire? Dang, Trey Adams, the caveman who builds fires!” she teases, following me to the spot just above the waterline of the lake, next to the fire pit.
Dropping the stuff on the ground, I turn on her fast. She tries to escape when she sees my intention but it doesn’t work. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back into my stomach, then lifting her feet off the ground, I spin us, putting my face into the crook of her neck and blowing. My scruff tickles her and her loud, throaty laugh echoes around us, deep in the canyon surroundings.
“Trey!”
“Say mercy!” I tickle her side with my free hand and she flails about, trying to break free. Not a chance in the world, she isn’t getting out of this one yet.
“No! I can’t let the enemy win!” Shayla chokes out on a sob, she’s laughing so hard she has begun to cry. Shayla hates to be tickled.
“You better say it, Shay!”
“No!”
“Then say I’m the man and I will let you go!” I start moving toward the water, she can see my intentions from a mile away.
“Trey Joseph Adams! You better not put me in that water! Oh my God, Trey!” She shrieks and just as I get ready to set her in the water, she gives in, shouting, “Mercy! You are the man, I’m sorry! Please don’t!” Spinning fast, I set her down and throw my fist in the air, accepting victory.