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Andrea
My brain is on overload. Each thought leads me down a rabbit hole of other thoughts, thoughts that scare the shit out of me. The last two nights with Daniel have been amazing, but I know it's only temporary. Eventually, I have to get back into my R.V. and figure out where I'm going.
My phone rings, springing me from my downward spiral. A wave of excitement rushes over me when Mason's face flashes across my screen. "Hey, my handsome son. How was your move?"
"It was good. Dad helped me unload my things and now is on his way to San Diego with Mads. Where has your crazy adventure taken you?"
"Actually, I'm in Venice."
"Italy?" he asks, confused.
"Seriously, dude? Do you really think I'd go to Italy and not tell you? Venice Beach, California."
"Are you with that guy? What happened to finding out who you are? Exploring things on your own?"
"Sometimes plans change, and life leads you in other directions. Right now, Daniel needs me, and I like being with him. I know you have read some horrible things about him online, but that's not who he is. Please give him a chance, Mason. He makes me happy."
"All I want is for you to be happy, Mom. If Daniel makes you happy, that's all that matters."
"I'm only like thirty minutes from your apartment. Want some help unpacking?" I ask.
"You know what, I would love that. Thank you. I'll order us some lunch. See you soon."
Mason and I spend much of the afternoon eating Chinese food, setting up his apartment, and discussing his classes and ball games in the fall. My little boy is turning out to be a remarkable young man.
As the day rolls into the evening, I'm worried because I haven't heard from Daniel after he met with Bailey. I've tried to call and text several times but am still not getting an answer. I'm worried Daniel was right, and his discussion with Bailey didn't go as well as I hoped.
"Everything okay?" Mason asks after I check my phone for the tenth time.
"Oh yeah, honey, everything's fine," I lie. "I just thought I'd hear from Daniel by now. I'm gonna call an Uber and head back to his place."
"Don't be silly. I'll drive you. I need the practice anyway."
"You need practice driving? Since when?"
"No, I need practice being an Uber driver." He laughs.
The drive is quiet. Mason's a smart kid who knows me better than I know myself some days. It’s obvious he doesn’t believe me that everything is fine, but he doesn’t press me for more than I’m willing to discuss.
"Can I come in and apologize for my behavior the other night? I owe that to Daniel."
"I would love that, honey, but not tonight. Daniel had a difficult meeting today, and I'm not sure how it went or the mood he'll be in."
"Are you sure you're okay?” he scans the parked cars lining the street. “Where's the R.V.? You can stay with me. I'll sleep on the couch."
"Mason, I'm fine. Daniel would never let anything happen to me. Why don't you come over for dinner this week?" I lean over to hug my son before exiting his car.
"I'm only a phone call away."
I punch the code into the keypad on the doorknob and open the door, only to have my ears assaulted with the blaring of “Everybody Hurts” throughout the entire house.
"Daniel! Daniel!" I scream, searching the condo for him. Since I started staying with him, one door has been permanently shut. When he gave me the grand tour, he skipped that room. Tonight, the door is wide open.
Stepping in the doorway, my eyes grow wide with amazement. The walls are muraled with some of the most incredible art pieces I've ever seen. Yet, pencil-drawn portraits, colorful ocean oil paintings, and hundreds of tattoo sketches have been torn off and tossed about the room. This room is—or was—Daniel's art studio.
Daniel sits in the middle of the room, knees to his chest, crying. This tall, strong man who has become my protector, now appears small and fragile. Sitting beside him, I can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores.
"Baby, what happened? Are you okay?" I ask, resting my arm on his. He pulls his arm back as if repulsed to be touched by me. "Daniel?"
