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CHAPTER7
Colton
Taking the weekend off meant playing catchup as always. This Monday morning was no different than any other. Or at least it shouldn’t be. Instead, my mother called four times, unfortunately while I was on work calls and couldn’t answer.
When I had a free moment, I dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Colton, is everything okay?”
“That’s what I was about to ask you,” I said, afraid to hear the worst.
“Yes, but you didn’t come to dinner yesterday.”
“I know, Mom. I told you that I wouldn’t be around this weekend,” I reminded her.
“You did? I don’t remember that,” she replied.
I really thought I had. It was possible that with everything else going on, it slipped my mind. “I’m sorry, Mom. I really meant to let you know.”
She didn’t text, so I had no way of going back to confirm. But while I had her on the phone, I might as well make sure she’s aware of my future plans.
“Mom, I know how much you look forward to my visit on Sundays, but I will be out of town again this weekend.”
“Is this for work?”
“No. I am going to visit a friend,” I replied. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the entire truth. Annabella was somewhat of a friend. She wasn’t my lover, or a girlfriend. I kissed her, but it had been so quick that I couldn’t even taste her sweet lips. Though it was long enough to trigger a need within me that haunted me the whole flight home.
“You know, you can have your friend come to dinner, too,” she offered.
“Mom, she’s in Boston, not here,” I said, instantly regretting my words.
“She? You didn’t mention you were visiting a woman. Is it serious? I mean, you know how long your father and I have been wanting grandchildren.”
“Mom, did you hear the wordfriend?” I asked. I knew damn well she didn’t care. She was going to push past it and go down a path I didn’t want to. Maybe I was harboring ill feelings about never being told I was adopted, or even with the comments Logan made about my biological father, I still couldn’t help but feel unwanted. Either way, I’d never wanted to have a wife or children. And at age forty-four, I thought my mother would’ve given up by now.
“A mother can always hope,” she sighed.
Damn it. This is not her fault. All she did was give me a good, safe, loving home.
“There’s nothing wrong with hope, as long as you’re not disappointed if you don’t get what you want.” I should’ve reminded myself of this during my eventful weekend, instead of allowing myself to be overwhelmed by the truth about my birth father.In the words of my brother Logan, an asshole.
“Colton, you just haven’t met the right one yet, that’s all. And keeping you here in South Dakota was for my own selfish reasons. Maybe if I had agreed to let you go to college out of state, you’d have met her already.”
“Mom, you should know me better than to ever think you could’ve stopped me from leaving if I really wanted to go. I am happy here. I have a good job,” I said.
“Milking cows?” she asked.
I laughed. “Mom, I haven’t milked cows since I was twenty. I work in the office.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said.
The first time she had a lapse in memory, I chalked it up to my mistake. But this couldn’t be as easily dismissed. “Mom, are you feeling okay?” I asked, afraid of what she might say.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. You know I’m not as young as I used to be,” she said.
“Then maybe you should get some rest. And I’ll come by tonight after work and check on you,” I said.
“No. You have a lot of work to do. But I think you’re right. I should go take a nap.”
