Page 30 of Sour Brew Face

“Their oldest son, his name is Lange. Despite…they named him after me. He’s been thinking of his big brother for over a decade while I fixed mom’s gutters and took her to the doctors and let her insinuate herself into every aspect of my life, poisoning it from the inside out.”

He shifts on the couch, laying his head against my chest, his arms like steel bars crushing me to his body taut with pain.

“Mo, God, Mo, my dad wanted to divorce my mom, he wanted split custody. He couldn’t live under her oppressive rule anymore and he didn’t want to leave his kids behind to grow up in that kind of environment. She wouldn’t hear of it; said he would never take her babies from her. When he filed for divorce, she countered for full custody and to strip him of his parental rights. His lawyer fought, but she threatened to accuse him of molestation and rape. She blackmailed him into giving in, even though he knew he was innocent, he didn’t want to drag us through a court case and have us subjected to such darkness. So, he capitulated, except every year, every birthday, every holiday, every milestone, he sent us cards and gifts for years. We never got them. We never saw any of it. When I was in high school, she convinced a judge to grant a restraining order that barred him from having any contact with us whatsoever. And she did all of this without our knowledge. Conversations Emerson had with her didn’t add up, and I guess he tried talking to me about it a couple of times, but I was so angry with dad for leaving and for having to take on so much responsibility myself that I didn’t want to listen to him.”

He peers up at me with a chagrinned expression. “I guess I still haven’t learned my lesson on that front.” I know he’s talking about us, about the confrontation with his mother, and he’s right. He didn’t listen, didn’t even give me a chance to explain, just went straight for the jugular. But right now isn’t about that, it’s about his dad and his brother.

“Emerson got dad’s side of the story, met with Veronica, and they showed him court documents and filings. When he moved out, he changed his last name back to Reynolds. Mom paid for his phone, and she cut that off the day he left. He also left a letter for me and one for mom on the mantle. I never saw or knew about any letter for me. And when I didn’t contact him, he figured I didn’t want anything to do with him.” Another sob breaks free, “My baby brother, thought I hated him, that I didn’t love him anymore and he still named his first born after me. Because he still loved me regardless. My entire life, Mo, everything I’ve ever known or felt, has been a lie. A manipulation by a woman who was supposed to love us unconditionally but loved herself and her control more. How am I…what am I…”

I rock him back and forth, running my hand up and down his back. “You will take what you’ve learned, and you will redefine your life, your joys and happiness, you will map out a new future that includes a loving father, a brother who never gave up on you, and nephews, maybe nieces, that give your life meaning. You will not let her win, not let her derail your life for a second longer and you will live on your own terms. That’s what you’re going to do.”

He’s silent for so long, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of his head and continue to hold his pieces together, because I can’t imagine doing anything else for the man I love. The rage that flows through my veins is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Eugenia Mayes is Satan’s asshole. She has robbed him of a beautiful life, a complete life, expecting him to be eternally grateful for the scraps she has allowed.

“I want…I want all of that, Mary Opal. But I want it with you by my side.” My breath stalls in my lungs. I love him, I do. But I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive him. Knowing the why’s and how’s and where’s of his behavior doesn’t make it any easier to digest.

“Langston—”

“No, don’t say anything now. Just think about it. This chance I’ve been given, because of you, I can perfectly see a life well lived with my family. Drinking beers with my dad and brother, holding my newborn niece or nephew in three months when Kylie pops, playing with Lange and Robbie in my dad’s back yard, getting mom hugs from Veronica…but it’s in black and white, Mo. You bring color to my life; it is you who paints it in vibrant shades of bliss.”

Holy fuck, I think my ovaries just wept. That was…there are no words. The pieces of my heart have been slowly stitching back together, but my brain is telling me not to give in, not to trust him and I don’t know what to do.

“Can I stay with you, tonight? Nothing sexual. I want to hold you, to feel for one night that all is right in my world, to know that no matter how turbulent the sea, you are my anchor.”

Well, hell. There goes my uterus.

Langston 26.

My body protests as I wake up. I’m sore from the tension I’ve been carrying around, my stomach aches from being empty for so long, and my eyes are swollen and scratchy from crying. The last few days, the last week, has been emotionally draining and physically exhausting.

Blinking rapidly, I clear my vision and a genuine smile stretches my lips as I take in the goddess draped over me. Her long hair is like silk beneath my fingers, her skin soft as it brushes against my own, and the tickling of her breath as she inhales and exhales peacefully in sleep ignites a fire in my lower belly.

I’m not in the clear yet, I know that. I have so much to make up for, and I don’t even know that I can. The way I behaved towards her; the way I spoke to her will haunt me for the rest of my life. But she’s here with me, she let me in last night, she held me like I mattered to her, like maybe she still loves me. Just being with her settled my manic mind. I can’t lose her.

Staring up at the ceiling, I think about my next steps. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t think I’m ready to confront my mother, her long laundry list of egregious offenses and their far-reaching consequences. I have never laid hands on a woman before, but by God, the thought of her makes me want to commit violence.

The bar is a priority, I know that much. She co-signed my loan and while I have money to pay it down, I don’t have nearly enough to pay it off. I could probably get it refinanced and have her removed but I don’t know what that will cost.

There are things in her house that belong to me. From my childhood, Emerson’s, important papers, and photo albums. I’ll have to go over there when she’s not home to retrieve them.

And then there’s severing ties with her. There is no way I can forgive her, no chance of salvaging our relationship after what I’ve learned. In the file that Ishaan gave me, at Mo’s request, there were court documents, the restraining order, and her changed will when Emerson left, cutting him out completely. That, in addition to what dad had…and then when I think that she slapped Mo, verbally assaulted her, threatened her…God, there isn’t a level of hell suitable for what she deserves.

Mo moans as she stretches against me, then flops back over my chest. “What are you thinking about so hard? And why are you doing it before coffee?” I chuckle into her hair, running my hand up and down her back, feeling the heat of her through her t-shirt.

“I didn’t want to move, not even for coffee.”

“Mmm.” She hums, rubbing her cheek against my bare chest. I ignore my morning wood and instead focus on the day ahead.

“Thank you, Mo, for…letting me in, giving me a safe space to cut myself open and bleed, for patching me back together. It feels like there is so much I need to do, but I just want to lay here with you and forget everything else exists.”

“The earth keeps turning, Langston, life continues whether you want it to or not. And delaying will only prolong your pain and suffering. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through—”

“Yes, you do. Mo, I should never have said what I did to you. Aside from being an epically dick move, it was wholly inaccurate. You may never have had a mother, but you recognized right away what a mother should not be. You’ve saved me and you’ve given me so much…just by loving me.”

She’s quiet for several long seconds and I remain silent to give her time to process. I know I’m not going to fix us in one night. It took us weeks to build to what we had, where we were, and I’ve reset the board with my callous words.

“I texted the guys last night while you were in the bathroom, to tell them I won’t be in today. I…I didn’t want you to be alone.” The sting of tears hits me hard, but I manage to hold them back.

“I don’t deserve you.” I whisper hoarsely into her hair, my hands scrambling to draw her closer.

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