Thick: A Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

            
 
Placing the last of my bags in the back of my car, I shut the door. Standing on the sidewalk, Alex looked about as lost as a little puppy. God how I wished I could take her with me. She would make this weekend fly by. However, I didn’t want to get her mixed up in all the shit between Brad and me. It was coming, I could feel it in my bones. Nothing ever stayed quiet in a little town like Cedar Grove. I wouldn’t be surprised to find him on the doorstep before I pulled in.

              Stepping away from the car, I walked toward Alex. “Hun, if I could take you I so would. But I love you too much to introduce you to my crazy world in Pennsylvania. Stay here, and stay safe.” I stated, grabbing her into a fierce hug.

              She started tearing up against my shoulder. “Five days. That’s all I’m giving you, Claire. If you are not at your desk Monday morning, I’m coming for you.”

              I nodded my head and step out of her tight embrace. I took one last look at her before starting my car and driving away. I had a gut feeling that when I came back, I wouldn’t be the same person. There was just something about returning home that felt off to me. I had felt that way since waking up this morning. It wasn’t a feeling that I was familiar with, which shocked the shit out of me.

              It made it all of five minutes before I turned on the radio. I was never the one that could just drive in pure silence, leaving me to my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts were pretty damn scary, more so today. I was ecstatic that I was going to be seeing my mother after all the time we had been apart. But I was not looking forward to returning home. If she would have let me, I would have paid for the whole affair if she got married in New York. But that didn’t happen. She was stuck in her old ways. Wanting to get married in the town she was born and raised in.

              It was kind of cliché if you ask me. Getting married in the town that you have lived for the past, almost fifty years. But I wasn’t going to speak out against my mother’s wishes. She’s done so much for me since I left, there was no way I could say no. Before going to bed last night, I thought it would be good for me and her if I arrived a little earlier than planned. I decided to leave at the butt crack of dawn, six am, so I would arrive no later than three pm.

              Considering that the roads were still silent, I was glad I made the choice. I didn’t need to run into any problems along the way. Having a clear head on my shoulders was the only way that I would get through what I was sure was one sham of a wedding. Then afterwards I would come back to New York, hang out with Alex, and confess the whole sordid tale. Which I was sure going to be quite extensive, and require about three pitchers of margaritas.

              Just as I was about to change the radio station when my favorite song came on,
Fight Song
by Rachel Platten
.
My mood shifted, drastically. Instead of feeling like I was in over my head, the chorus made me stronger. I started singing so loud, thinking about all the things that’s happened to me. This wasn’t just my favorite song, it was my life theme. I had fought, turned over a new leaf. I was the only person that could dictate where my life ended. After the song ended, I hooked up my phone to the car stereo, putting the song on repeat; and that’s what stayed on the radio the rest of the way to my mother’s house.

Coming to a stop in front of the two story colonial where my mother lived, I studied it. It still had the weathered shutters gracing every window. The pea green door, that I knew would still hang at a crooked angle from Brad’s escapades at being a do it yourselfer; to the pathway that had seen too many storms in its time and needed to be revamped. It would not be anything to most people, but that house meant everything to me.

              Or at least, it had.

              Stepping of the car, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. When I reopened them, a smile bloomed over my face. It felt so different being here, but in a good way. I was home. Where everything that ranged from good to bad had transpired. It was the house I shared my first kiss with Brad, first birthday, pretty much my first everything. Just being here dragged up painful memories. But I was going to take that songs advice. I was going to fight. I was ready to take back all the things that Brad and his mother stole from me. No one, and I do mean, no one, was going to take it away from me.

              After gathering my luggage, I made my way to the front door. Just before I got to the top step my mother threw the front door open, running in her haste to get to me. It had been at least six months since I saw her last. She was one hell of a sight for sore eyes. Dropping my bags, I caught her when she leapt into my arms. Tears starting falling down our faces. I missed her so much. I went from seeing her every day, to only seeing her every few months. God, I was such a terrible daughter. Her face seemed like its aged years.

              I sniffled. “God. I’ve missed you woman.”

              She laughed through her tears. “Not as much as I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

              Holding on to her for a bit longer, I tightened my hold before releasing her. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, I smiled. Picking up my luggage, I followed her inside. She showed me up to my room and left me to get ready for dinner. Closing the door behind me, it felt like I was transported back in time. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, changed. She still kept all my posters taped to the wall. All my pictures were still taped to my mirror. I sighed, running my fingers over the picture of Brad and me on our prom night.

              Many good things happened to me in the ten years that I have been gone. But that day, even though my heart still hurt from his distrust in me, was the best day of my life. I could still feel his hands roaming over me to this day. His soft, gentle caresses. I shivered, closing my eyes. Just being with him left me breathless, even thinking about my time with him all these years later still took my breath away. I felt a tear slid down my cheek.

Opening my eyes to take one last look at the picture. I took it off the mirror and stashed it in my bedside table. I opened my luggage, getting freshened up from my long drive. I headed out of my room and went down to the kitchen when I was done. I could hear my mother in there cooking and singing. I smiled noting the good mood that she was in. Was that because of me, or her upcoming wedding? I wanted desperately to believe that it was because I was now back here. But something told me that it wasn’t. She was just happy that I could be here for her on her big day.

I made my way to the kitchen, stopping in the door way. She had apparently heard me enter the kitchen because she stopped what she had been doing, and looked at me. Meeting her eyes I saw such longing, that I began to get choked up. It was not supposed to be like this, I was supposed to be strong. Not show how much I truly missed being here. Damn her for making me cry, damn this house and all the memories overwhelming me. Last but not least, mother fucking damn this hellacious wedding. Pulling out a chair from the old worn down table, I sat. Breaking eye contact with her had been strictly out of necessity, I didn’t want her to see how torn up I was on the inside.

A comfortable silence overcame the room. It was as if we didn’t know how to act around each other. In all truth, from the short visits she made to New York we hadn’t been around each other more than a few hours at a time in almost ten years. Clearing my suddenly dry throat, I figured the best way to get past the emotional charged silence would be to nip the problem in the butt.

“I’m sorry for not coming back to visit. I just…couldn’t.” I stared down at my fidgeting hands in my lap.

She sighed, coming over to kneel in front of me. Tapping my chin, I looked at her. “I know baby. I know. I was just glad that you came here for me. I know it’s hard, and I shouldn’t have asked, but I wanted my little girl here.”

I nodded. “I should have visited. I shouldn’t have let him ruin what we had.”

“Ruin what? You’re still my partner in crime, don’t you ever forget that. It’s not like we didn’t see each other. I came to visit when I could, and I’m sure you would have done the same if your heart would have allowed it. Don’t focus on the past sweetie, look toward the future. You have so much to offer. Any man will be glad to marry you,” she finished with a smile.

I gave her a weak smile. “I love you so much.”

“As I you,” she replied, gathering me into a hug.

After releasing me, I found the ache in my chest had dissolved. Leaving behind nothing but happiness. I have been wanting to explain myself to her for so long. But never found the opportune time to. I was so glad that a woman like her was my mother. Any person would be jealous, I was sure. She was so understanding, no matter how much it hurt her. She always tried to see others point of view.

“Ok, so back to the lighter side of things,” I giggled. “What time will I be meeting this handsome man you’re marrying, and his son?”

At that she beamed a radiant, love filled smile.

It was a smile that had always been toward me, or for me. I have never seen her this way over a man before. She looked happier than I have ever seen her, which spoke volumes of the man I had yet to meet. I was happy for her, but also at the same time envious.

“Oh Claire, you’ll just love them. Shawn is so sweet, considerate, kind, and so loyal. You will just love him.” She finished in a screech as she twirled in a circle.

“Mom, he can be all those things and I wouldn’t care a lick, well not as much anyway. But does he love you?”

She began nodding furiously as she responded, “Honey, he sure does. I can feel it.”

I smiled. “Great, that’s all I care about mom,” I said on a sigh before adding, “So what time will I be meeting this infamous Shawn?”

She glanced at her watch before responding, “In about fifteen minutes actually.” She finished with horror etching her features. “Oh my God! Nothing is done, the table isn’t set, and the food isn’t in the right serving dishes. Nothing is ready.”

I chuckled at her frazzled stated. My mom always took things to the fifth degree. It was actually kind of hilarious in a way. But I decided to put her out of her misery. “Let me help you mom. I will set the table while you get the food ready. Then after everything is done, we can go and make ourselves sexy,” I snickered.

She gave me the stink eyes, but chuckled. “Dear he’s not really your type, ha. Trust me. But his son is going to be here also, so while we’re having dinner you can get to know him,” she said, before whispering something that I couldn’t hear.

I jerked my head in her direction. The smile that had been on her face, was gone. Replaced by a nervous look that I wanted to ask her about. I wondered what the hell that look was about, but opted to set the table before asking her about it.

After everything had been done, we scurried off to our rooms to get ready. I wanted to make a good first impression, so I chose a simple silky black number with my cheetah pumps. It was conservative, yet sexy. I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too revealing. Nope, it was perfect. Adding the smokey eye look to my lids, a little bit of blush, and lip gloss. I set to taming my wild mane. Finally after about ten minutes of messing around with it, it fell in soft waves down my back.

Turning side to side, I studied myself in the mirror, being happy with my appearance, I set out to the kitchen to see if our guests had arrived. Upon entering the kitchen, I saw my mother still fiddling with the dishes on the table. I chuckled, quickly covering my mouth with my hand when she gave me a deer-caught-in-headlights look. I’ve never seen my mother so nervous before. However, I could tell that she was hiding something from me. I just didn’t know what.

I was just about to ask her what was up when the doorbell rang. Her head shot up to me. I looked from the front door than back to her. I was closer, which meant that if she tried to beat me to the door I would still get there first. I was so glad that I kept up with my exercise routine all these years. The old geezer didn’t stand a chance. I smiled a shit eating grin, turning for the door. I was about to take a step when my mother whizzed past me, giggling nervously.

I followed after her, grabbing her around the waist to get in front of her. The doorbell sounded again just as I grabbed the door handle. I smiled triumphantly at my mom. Laughter boomed out of her petite body. “I beat you,” I whispered.

“Just a minute,” she yelled to her beau on the other side.