Page 67 of I Blame the Alcohol

“But I hope you know mom would be proud of you. She would have loved to hear about all the events you drag your shy roommate to and she would have loved to hear about this thing you have with Cody.”

I smile, wiping the dampness from my cheeks, “You know me too well. What would you say to mom if she was here?”

Mo goes silent, his throat working up and down.

“I would ask her if she ever wanted to be someone different. If she ever wanted to escape the path laid out in front of her.”

I rest a hand on his arm, “Is this about working for the family company?”

Mo shakes his head, “That’s only part of it. Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m living someone else’s life.”

I frown, unused to seeing my brother so shaken.

“Then why don’t you take some time off? Step back and figure out what you really want to do. You always have a choice, you know.”

“Look who is giving out the advice now.”

“I always give advice. You just always choose to ignore it.” Mo chuckles and I give him a gentle shove.

“Pick whatever path you want, Mo. You only get one life, and it could end tomorrow or eighty years from now. May as well make the most of it.”

Not our most morbid conversation ever, but definitely ranking in the top ten. When you lose a loved one you start to realize how little time we all really have.

Mo nods, “You’ve given me lots to think about. Thanks sister.”

“Anytime brother.”

We smile at each other, and for a moment, I wonder if the thought running through my head is the same one that's running through his.

What would mom think of the people we’ve become?

Chapter 21

Cody

Incoming Facetime Call…

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

My mom’s smiling face fills my phone screen, her signature Santa hat standing loud and proud atop her blonde hair.

I grin into the camera, “You’re a few days early mom.”

She frowns, “Today is December 25th, Cody. Have you been training so hard you forgot?” She squints, peering into the camera, “Where are you?”

It’s Christmas already?

“Oh,” I turn the camera around to give her a sweep of the guest bedroom. “Mo invited me to stay with his family over the break.”

“You mean Mentor Mo?” My mother’s eyes widen as she takes in the pristine state of the room, “What a lovely colour. I didn’t realize your friend was so affluent.”

I nod, admiring the dark green colour decorating the walls, “Me neither. Turns out his father is a bit of an entrepreneur.”

“Based on the size of that room, I’d say he’s more than a bit of an entrepreneur.” She shakes her head with wonder, no doubt picturing the closet-sized office that doubled as a guest bedroom in the house I grew up in.

“Didn’t Mo have a younger sister? Sally?”

“You mean Stella.” Just saying her name has my chest expanding with pride.

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