Page 63 of New River Gorge(ous)
My mother’s lip slowly unfurls from a snarl into a determined smile of dislike. It’s rather like the Grinch when he steals all the Who’s presents.
“Ah. For thesummer.” She cuts her eyes to me, and I catch her meaning, but she does stretch out her hand and shake Brooke’s.
“Brooke is my girlfriend,” I blurt out, unnerved by what my mom is implying. Brooke isn’t just some summer fling. She’s certainly not a casual hookup, and she’s definitely not temporary. Is it too soon to think about marriage? Yes, but I already am. That’s what you do when youlovesomeone.
“Sure,” Mom says with a knowing glint in her eyes that says she does not believe me at all.
“No, really, Mom.” I step closer to Brooke and wrap my arm around her. “Brooke and I are together.”
“Beckett, I understand. You’re a man. You have needs. You don’t have to pretend that this hussy is something she clearly isn’t just because you’re sleeping with her.”
I cannot hear because of the roaring in my ears. I cannot breathe for the thousand-pound animal that has decided to sit on my chest. And I cannot stand still as the blood in my veins goes from calm to a rapid boil.
“How dare you,” I grind through clenched teeth. My hands curl into fists at my sides, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from shaking my mom until she stops being awful. There’s not much of a chance of that happening, so I shove my hands in my pockets instead.
“Honey,” Mom condescends to Brooke. “He’s had a good thing before, and—” She gives Brooke a scathing look from her feet to her hair. “Quite frankly, dear, you havepinkhair, and you are not what he needs. He’s a successful doctor, and you’re … what, a tour guide for the summer? Really, Beckett.” She clucks her tongue, and my muscles snap and pop as I hold myself back from erupting.
I grunt. Cavemen have decided to inhabit my body momentarily because any form of language has left me. All that’s possible for me now is rage. The kind that vibrates through your body and has supersonic effects on those around you. Everyone around me but my mother.
“Leave,” I say in my most commanding voice. It’s one I rarely use outside of work, and never with my mother.
I don’t know if it’s enough to tell my mother to go, so I turn only to see that Brooke’s fury matches my own. Her own body shakes, yet she has a neutral face, and when she speaks, her voice is deathly calm.
“Mrs. Whistler,” Brooke says in an even tone, stepping closer to my mom and invading her personal space. “You don’t scare me.”
And then, in a twist I don’t see coming at all, Brooke turns around and launches herself into my arms for a very performative kiss. Her lips crash into mine, and it’s clear that this is a battle that she is going to win. She is determined to not stop kissing me until her point has been made. I’m not surehowher kissing me is proving her point and not supporting my mom’s earlier implications, except for the fact that she is showing she isn’t scared of my mom’s catty tactics.
After several minutes, Brooke breaks away to catch her breath. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close to me.
“Mom.” I give her a single head bob. “Don’t insult Brooke again.”
“Oh, please.” Mom’s frustration mounts as she stiffens, and her tone becomes even more condescending. “You really want to waste your breath on this?” She points one finger at Brooke.
“I’d waste everything on her and still be a rich man,” I retort.
Mom’s eyebrows raise a fraction of an inch. “I know it’s not serious because you would have told me if it were.”
“I know it’s seriousbecauseI didn’t tell you. You have no business interfering in my life now. You made it clear you sided with Addie, and I have no interest in seeing you or Addie again. Goodbye, Mom.”
“And the wedding?” Mom asks, because she doesn’t get the hint that she’s not welcome here and that this conversation is over.
“You’re not invited,” I snap at the exact same time Brooke says, “There is no wedding.”
“No wedding?” Mom asks, a hint of confusion cracking her stone façade.
“Not yet,” I huff, squeezing Brooke tighter to me. “But soon.”
To make my point, I place a kiss on the crown of Brooke’s head.
“But Addie said that it was on Facebook. I knew I had to come and see for myself.”
“Yes, because Addie and Facebook are the most reliable sources of information.”
“Don’t be smart with me, young man. I stopped at your house first, but when you weren’t there, I asked your neighbor. The old woman at the house with the green door. She said she thought you’d be here.”
“Meemaw…” Brooke whispers a sigh and starts to run a hand through her hair.
“Mom,” I say slowly, deliberately. “You need to go. I mean it.”
