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Bristol’s noticed me, too, and I can tell by the way she’s standing so tall that she’ll make my mom leave the Hughes building just like she walked her away from the beach house.That twists my heart around again.Having someone like her protect someone likemewas the impossible dream.It was childish bullshit.I never expected to have it.
I really do have everything.
“No, it’s okay.”Good.I sound definitive, and not like a tentative asshole.“You can let her come in.”
“Here, let me.”Finn moves to one of the doors nearby and opens it, gesturing inside with his easy, rich-boy manners.“You’re welcome to use this conference room.No one will bother you.”
My mom glances at Finn.“Oh, thank you.That’s very kind.I just don’t—I won’t need a whole room.I was just dropping something off.”
“Mom, just—” It could be that I’m having a heart attack.That’s another explanation for everything going on in my chest.“Let’s just go into the conference room and talk.”
She hesitates, like I’m going to change my mind, and I’m forced to wave her into the hallway.Finn nods to my mom as she passes him on her way into the room.
Bristol watches me with huge, green eyes, a little smile on her face that I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know is there.She was going to make my mom leave because she thought that’s what I wanted, but look at her.She wanted a reunion.A conversation at least.
I wave her over, too.There’s too much happening to feel weird about that.I’m sure there’ll be more in a minute.Mom’s probably hoping we’ll be alone, but I can’t have this conversation while Bristol waits somewhere else.
We go into the conference room, and Bristol closes the door.My mom stands up straight, looking nervous as all hell.Her purse hangs from her shoulder.It looks as secondhand and threadbare as her coat.
“Mom.”It feels unbelievably strange to say it, but it would be fucked up to call her Mrs.Leblanc or by her first name like she’s applying for a secretary job.“Hi.”
It’s a better start than we had at the beach house.
“Hi, Will.”She looks at me like I’m the best kind of surprise, her eyes shining even while the rest of her face is set and serious.“I’m sorry to have interrupted your work.”
“It’s fine.We were between meetings.This is Bristol Anderson, my girlfriend.Bristol, this is my mom.”I should say more, but that’s all I can get out before my throat closes.
“Hi,” Bristol says.“I’m sorry things didn’t work out when we met before.I’m glad we could be introduced.”
“No need to be sorry.”My mom’s eyes come back to me.“I didn’t come here to take up too much of your time, Will.I just wanted to leave this for you.”
She looks down at the package in her hands, then holds it out to me.
Two steps, and I’m close enough to take it.
It’s small enough to fit mostly in the palm of my hand.Whatever this is, she’s wrapped it in newspaper and tied it with a length of ribbon that came with something else.I can still see the creases.We’re standing here in this fancy-ass meeting room on the most important floor at the Hughes Industries headquarters, absolutely fucking surrounded by money, but this shabby little gift feels more important than anything this filthy rich corporation could buy.
“Do you want me to open it now?”
I meet her eyes.She’s already looking at me, waiting for my reaction.“Yes.If you had time.If you wanted.”
“Okay.”I undo the ribbon.It’s from a box of chocolates.The brand name is printed in silver on one end.Then I flip over the package and slide my thumbnail under the tape holding it closed.It takes all of five seconds to unwrap what’s inside.
It’s…an action figure.
An action figure of a boxer, with red gloves on his hands and defined muscles.I have no idea who it’s supposed to be.He’s beat up, though, with fine scratches on his gloves.An old, old fragment comes loose in my mind.
“I took him to remember you by.”Her voice is soft, but there’s enough regret there to fill several conference rooms.
“I remember this.”I don’t remember getting it for my birthday, or Christmas.I was too young.But I’ve thought about those red gloves over the years.The shape of them.I trace the round curve with my fingertip.“I didn’t know what happened to it.”
“You just loved those boxing matches on TV.”
The last time we were together, I was a toddler.“Wasn’t I too young to watch the fights?”
“I don’t think you’d have stayed still long enough to do that, even if I’d let you.It was the commercials.Those were your favorite.”She lets out a breath and tips her chin toward the action figure.“He didn’t want to leave.”
The truth is right there in her face.It’s written all over her.She didn’t want to leave.
