Page 20 of Brighton

On and off throughout the week, Brighton sent me pictures of different rosés he found but couldn’t decide which was best. Wine wasn’t his forte, so I gave him a couple of brand suggestions and left the decision up to him. The poor boy was obviously frantic in his search for the golden rosé chalice.

Christmas Eve was on a weekend and though I knew that would be a major shopping day, as a company we always gave our employees that day off with pay. And obviously the day of Christmas itself. The day after Christmas was another big one so we asked every year for volunteers to work. It always surprised me how many did. I’m sure it had a lot to do with the fact that they got commission in addition to their standard salary but that was their business. I generally worked that day, but this year was different, and I planned to take it off. When Brighton told me he had the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, I immediately changed my plans and I took the week off, too, though I told my team I’d be available if any emergencies arose.

Simon and I patiently awaited Brighton’s arrival. I told him we needed to be at Mom’s around four and to be here two-thirtyish. As I spotted him pull up, I opened the garage and waved him in. At least that way if a snowstorm hit his car wouldn’t get buried in the frozen mess. “Hello, sweetheart.” I gave him a hug and a kiss as soon as he hopped out of the car. “Need any help?”

“God, I missed your arms. Remind me to never shop for literally anything including groceries the week before Christmas.” Brighton’s stance was tense, I could only imagine the crowds he encountered.

I chuckled as he popped the trunk. “Yes, sorry. I didn’t think to warn you. I’m so used to that death wish being widely known and I hadn’t given it another thought.” As soon as we had his trunk emptied and the contents moved into my truck, I shut the garage door and brought him inside. “Would you like a shot before we head to my mother’s?”

His head popped up and his face paled. “Am I going to need it?”

“Not necessarily, but it might take the edge off. You seem rather frazzled.” Now I felt horrible for having asked. It seemed my words weren’t perceived as I’d intended, and his mind immediately wandered to a worst-case scenario.

“Just a bit, but I think for the most part your arms and Simon’s presence will ground me.” He slid down to the floor to play with Simon. I was glad I had cleaned earlier, or his pants would match Simon’s fur when he got up. I already packed mine and Simon’s bags and loaded them up so rather than prolong this any further and risk giving Brighton a drink or two, it was time to go. Not being a drinker, having him show up at my mother’s drunk may or may not be a good thing. Not a chance I was willing to take either way.

“All right, boys, time to head out.”

We’d barely embarked upon our journey and already Brighton’s leg bounced up and down. The boy was a bundle of nerves, so I reached over and took his hand. “You’re shaking the truck, my love. I can assure you it’s not going to be bad, sweetheart. There’s no need to be this nervous, you’re going to make yourself sick.” Though I couldn’t promise Mother would be on her best behavior, I did have hope.

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna feel when you meet my parents on New Year’s Eve?” My gaze locked on him as his words sank in.

“Wait. What? When were you going to tell me about that?” Had I missed a conversation and just said yes the entire time, my mind obviously elsewhere? No, I hadn’t reached the boredom phase with Brighton and couldn’t see that happening either. This boy always had my undivided attention.

“Now?”

“Hmm, we need to work on your delivery. What exactly will we be doing with your parents on New Year’s Eve?” That night would definitely require pregame shots.

“I told them I was seeing someone, and they invited us over for dinner on New Year’s Eve. I’m not quite sure why they picked that night of all nights. They’ve never gone out nor had a party and they don’t have any friends. But that’s the night my mother chose.” If this boy got any tenser, his shoulders would swallow his head.

“I see. Well, it will be interesting, I’m sure.” What I neglected to tell him was the interesting part would be a test to the limit of my patience and ability to hold my tongue. There’s no way on earth I’d allow them to berate this sweetheart of a man in front of me and I couldn’t promise I’d be good if they did.

When we pulled up at my parents’ house, it’s funny how I chose that very moment to call it that knowing that my mother was the only one still alive. Some habits were hard to break, I guess. The front door flew open, and Simon paced the back seat barking. I let him out first and he ran straight to Mother. She was all smiles as she leaned over to pet him. I really wished she’d consider getting a pet of her own, I thought it would do her good and help combat the loneliness she did her best to hide from me.

“Come on,” I took Brighton’s hand. “Let’s go inside. I’ll come back out and get our stuff.” We walked up the steps and Mother stiffened, taking on what I called her holier than thou stance.

“Mother, this is Brighton. Brighton, I’d like you to meet my mother, Laura Fulton.” This was where if I were a writer, I’d key inan awkward moment.

Brighton’s hand shot out. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Fulton.”

Mother stared at him for a few moments before she returned the gesture. “At least this one has manners. It’s nice to meet you, too, Brighton. Why don’t you come inside and follow me while Edward unloads the truck.”

Well, I wasn’t sure what to make of her dismissal and I was also not comfortable with that gleam in her eye. What was that woman up to now?

“Suzette,” she called out, “Edward and Brighton are here,” and shut the door in my face.

Lord, help us all.

I returned to the truck and brought our bags and the presents inside. It took me two trips and each time I could only hear mother’s voice as I entered the house, nothing from Brighton and I was anxious to get back to him. After the bags were in our room and the presents placed under the tree, I found them sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen sipping hot tea. And did I dare say Mother looked almost happy, which frightened the hell out of me.

“Well, there’s no blood,” I teased them as I took the seat beside Brighton.

“My son, the comedian,” Mother rolled her eyes. “Brighton was telling me about his job and his two pretty girls.

“Ah, yes. Maleficent and Ursula. Did you show her pictures, love?”

“I was just about to.” He had his phone in front of him, scrolling through the photo roll. “Here’s a really cute one.” He passed his phone to Mother. I remembered that video he’d sent to me last week. Ursula was on top of their cat condo and Maleficent was trying to nap on the hammock beneath her, but Ursula hung upside down batting at her.

Mother laughed and a sense of ease washed through me. I knew these two would get along but with Mother there was always a chance that things could go south and there was no coming back from that level of fresh hell. “I’d always wanted a cat when I was younger but my mother was allergic so we couldn’t get one. When Edward was young, this child brought home every stray he came across, though sometimes I questioned whether or not they were truly strays,” she side-eyed me. “They had collars and were very clean and well fed and not standoffish as most strays were.”

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