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I picked up my glass and drank the wine gone, feeling the sweet chill fall down my throat, Clay’s brown eyes in my mind the entire time. Once the glass was empty, I set it down and grabbed the bottle again, refilling to the brim. “Alright then. I guess I am planning a party with Clay and making three dresses, all the while being followed by a photographer.”
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Madeline asked softly.
“Not at all. I have three months to space this all out. I’m fine, as long as Clay’s fine. . .” I sighed, seeing Clay’s smile in the back of my mind. The smile that I always loved, the one that made me feel like the only one in the world. “I’m fine.”
Chapter Seven
-Clay-
Imissed my Tesla. I couldn’t think that enough. Milo let me borrow his truck, his massive, loud truck, to go visit my parents once a month, and unfortunately today was the day where I had to pretend to be excited about having dinner.
My parents, Paul and Elizabeth Nolan, had met in college, got married directly after, and then built their lives around me. I was an only child, but not by choice. My mom had a few miscarriages before finally having me, and from what she says, it was a rough pregnancy. After I was born healthy and happy, they decided I was it and stopped trying to have a big family. I didn’t mind being the only kid, but when it came to family dinner or holidays, it was up to me to build the family into something bigger and they always made sure I knew that. They were ready for grandkids.
My mom was secretly hoping Rebecca was my forever since she was the girl I had kept around long enough to tell them about. None of my past “girlfriends” even knew my parents' names; Rebecca came close to meeting them, but all in all, she wasn’t it. No one ever was.
Now, here I was, going to their house in Milo’s truck, wearing blue jeans and a gray hoodie, my five o’clock shadow showing through, with the potential to stay for the week, with no girl to introduce and no new information to give them on the job or. . . life. . . front. Normally, I would try to dress better, more normal, for these dinners, but tonight, I simply didn't care.
I opened the door and was greeted by Grim, the massively fat black cat my mother adored. He meowed and rubbed his body against my legs. I bent over and pet his back, having him arch up.
“Hey, Grim. Bud, you’ve gotten fatter.”
“Oh, he has not. He’s lost weight.” My mom appeared from the kitchen, rubbing her hands dry with a towel. “How was the trip here?” she asked, pulling me into a hug.
I squeezed her back, still enjoying being held by mom. “It was fine, loud.”
“Loud? Where’s your Tesla?” She walked toward the front window and took a look at Milo’s blue Chevy in her driveway, “Did Milo drive you? He can join us for dinner?”
“Nah, he’s at home. My Tesla's insurance expired so. . .” I shrugged.
She pinched her brow and tilted her head. I knew my mother, and she was disappointed. “Are you still living with Milo?”
“Yeah, Mom. That hasn’t changed.” I walked past her into the kitchen. I needed to do something to get my mind off her upcoming questions. I reached for the cabinet and pulled out three plates and cups. “What's for dinner?”
“The lasagna is cooking and should be done really soon.” She came up behind me and put the towel back on the oven handle. “Have you tried looking for a job, Clayton?”
“Yes, Mom, but that embezzlement charge that shows up on background checks doesn't help,” I grumbled. I had been over this with her. She knew what had happened and how there was absolutely no way out of it. “Home Depot was the only place—”
“Home Depot?” My dad’s booming voice came into the room. His hair had turned gray since hitting his sixties, and his glasses had seemed to get bigger. My dad was freshly retired and still in the “honeymoon phase” of his retirement. He seemed to enjoy being able to make things with his hands again, turning the garage into his workshop. “You could get me a discount on wood.”
I pinched the brim of my nose. “I’m not working at Home Depot, Dad.”
“Why not?” my mom asked, grabbing the plates I had pulled down and making her way to the table. “It would be a way to get out of Milo’s house.” After setting the final plate down, she stood straight and looked back at me. “You’re always welcome back here, you know.”
“Mom, I’m thirty-five. It’s bad enough I sleep on my best friend's couch. I’d rather sleep in my car than move back home,” I said a little too harshly. I knew they meant well. They wanted to see me succeed again, but if I was going to get my life back together, it didn’t involve living with my parents. “I have a few months before Milo gets married and moves out. I’ll figure it out.”
“You need to figure it out sooner or later. If you need money for a down payment on something, or if you want to put the Tesla on our car insurance, we can work something out.” My dad came up and placed his hand on my mom’s shoulder. The look that was in both of their eyes, the expression on their faces, this was some sort of intervention.
As much as I tried to force it down, my mind snapped.
“What is this?” I asked. “I came for dinner, not the third degree.”
“Clayton,” my dad argued back. “We want to help you. We want you to soar again.”
“Yeah, well, that's not possible. Jackson and Rye screwed me over, or my team did. I had nothing to do with it, but it shows, and therefore, companies don't trust me.” I walked to the table and picked up my plate. I had no intention of staying here for dinner if this was the conversation. “Home Depot would hire me on the spot for minimum wage, but that won’t cover a place in the city. Either way, no matter how you look at it, I’ll be homeless in a few months. Nothing is going the way it should, and this is all just a pile of shit.” I swung open the cabinet and gently—even though I wanted to chuck it—placed the plate back on top of the others. “I love you guys, and I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
I heard them sigh and begin to talk as I left, shutting the door with a bang.
Milo was sitting on the peninsula when I walked through the door, a slice of pizza in his hand with a book laid out in front of him. If anyone had their life together, it was Milo. Decent job, no debt, an amazing fiancée, and sweet little girl. He had all the things. A pang of jealousy hit the moment I saw him, one that I forced down with all my might. There was no need to be jealous of my best friend, especially after he had helped me so much. I tossed his keys on the counter and walked closer to him.
