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I squeeze my eyes closed and pinch the bridge of my nose as more pain threatens to split my skull wide open. Three years? What the fuck, Mom? Why is she just now springing this on me? Deanna talks to them, but my ears refuse to listen. I grab Deanna’s purse, ignoring the looks, and search for pills. She must have some over-the-counter medication in here for headaches. Don’t all women carry that stuff around all the time? Mom always seemed to have some on hand when I was growing up.
Ah-ha! I grab the bottle, shake it until two land in my hand, and dry swallow them before returning her bag. None of this makes sense. Am I still alive? Did the plane crash and this is some sort of afterlife experience? Maybe that’s why my head hurts.
The forty-five-minute drive to Mom’s house is a long one. From the corner of my eye, I see Deanna and Mom glance over at me multiple times. Sorry, but my mind can’t seem to wrap around this. When we finally get to Mom’s house, my mind is blown once again.
Mom’s house has been infused by a man. This is not the same house I remember. Damn, I need to come home more often. Coach Hall’s things lie around everywhere. Coats hang by the door, boots sit on the floor, a pair of reading glasses lie on the table next to the recliner, and new blankets that I know my mother would never buy rest on the back of the couch.
“I need to lie down. Maybe that will get rid of my headache,” I say.
Mom frowns, but I kiss her on the cheek and pull Deanna to my old room.
She slaps my arm the moment I close the door. “What is wrong with you?” she whispers harshly.
“Me? My mom just sprung her boyfriend of three years on me! And I know him!”
“That should make it better.”
“It doesn’t!” I drop our bags by the door and move over to the bed, lying down and facing away from the door.
“Brayden.” Deanna crawls over my body to lie in front of me. “Aside from keeping it from you for so long and it being your old coach, what’s so bad about your mom having a boyfriend?”
I groan. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?” Deanna seems perplexed.
“Mom has never had a boyfriend!” When Deanna stares at me like I’m crazy, I add, “Just leave me alone. I want a nap.” With that, I close my eyes.
Deanna sighs. “Maybe you just never met them. Or maybe she spent all that time flirting with Perry.”
“Please stop.”
“We’re stuck here for the next two days. You need to get used to the idea that she’s with him and be happy for her. She obviously had high hopes when she asked you to come.”
“I’m just trying to figure out how this is possible. How did they get together? Is he living here now? Because it looks like it.”
“Weren’t you listening on the way here?” Deanna interrupts.
“No. As soon as he said she was his girlfriend, I got a headache and stopped listening. A headache I still have, by the way.”
She rolls her eyes at me again, but adjusts her position so she can massage my temples and tell me what she learned of my mother’s new relationship. Apparently, they ran into each other all the damn time and eventually, Coach Hall asked her out. The rest is history.
“This is a terrible Christmas already,” I mutter.
Deanna laughs. “I never would’ve thought the idea of Maryann having a boyfriend would be what knocked you down.”
“You’re mean. I just need time to recover.” We hear Mom giggle and I groan, leaning into Deanna. “What are they doing out there?” I groan again. “I don’t want to know.”
Deanna laughs once more. “They are probably talking. I doubt they are out there having sex in the living room.”
I poke her in the stomach. “Do not mention my mom and sex in the same sentence.” I shudder saying it myself. “My mom is too old for that anyway.”
Deanna barks out a laugh. “I’ll remember that when we’re in our fifties.”
A reluctant smile appears. She thinks about us in our fifties? I try to imagine that myself. Granted, I’ll be closing in on sixty when she turns fifty with our age difference. Although unrealistic, I can see us together with Otis. I can see us having fun, laughing a lot, and yes, still having sex. Maybe I’ll be traveling less. Or maybe I’ll be traveling more as I take Deanna to places around the world. It doesn’t seem like a bad life.
Mom might have some version of that with Coach Hall.
I pull Deanna’s hands away from my temples. “Let’s give it fifteen more minutes and then go hang out with them.”
