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James Maxwell-Sinclair was officially her boyfriend now, smooching and everything, which made Felix my brother from another mother… and father…
Who knows…
Stranger things have happened.
I pulled out my cell, scrolling back through the messages I’d gotten this morning from Jonah, the first of which was the wordHELP. He’d sent it at the ass crack of dawn, bleary-eyed, his hair hidden under a Santa hat, surrounded by gifts, wrapping paper, and three hyper excited girls.
I re-read the whole load of messages that had come in before I’d even opened my eyes, a story about Polly and a book, or Gemma and a doll, or Lana and a painting set, and the fact his parents had gotten him a hoodie. He sent a photo of himself in said hoodie, looking gorgeous, and I saved that photo to my all-things-awesome folder on my phone.
But it was the last message I was fixed on.
Jonah-Merry Christmas, boyfriend.
So, I sent him one straight back with an attached photo of me blowing him a kiss.
Tyler-Merry Christmas, boyfriend.
I’d watched the dots as they danced on the screen, and then, a small video came through, and I opened it eagerly. It was Jonah capturing the kiss and making a show of putting it in the pocket of his new hoodie.
“That’s cute,” Mom said over my shoulder, and I jumped a mile.
“Moooom,” I whined because that was what was expected of me, given my mom was in my personal space watching videos sent to me, but it wasn’t from the heart. “He is cute, isn’t he.” I said instead.
“I like him. I mean…” She stopped moving around and took the stool opposite me, a smudge of flour on her cheek caught my eye, but it was the sparkle in her eyes that held me. “I didn’t want to like him, but he has this way about him, vulnerable, but confident, quiet, but somehow with important things to say. So yes, as long as he…”
Looks after you. Doesn’t treat you badly. Isn’t like your dad…
I could read all of that in her unfinished sentence.
“He’s a gentle giant,” I summarized.
She nodded, and startled when the doorbell sounded, abruptly flustered. “Do I look okay?”
The traditional pancake breakfast was always eaten while wearing traditional PJs, and just because this year we had guests, didn’t mean things were going to be different. Mom’s had kittens in Santa hats, mine was a superhero/drag race/Christmas homage that Mom had made for me last year.
“Flour, face,” I said, and she checked her face in the mirror quickly, then went dead still, tracing where the flour had been. I was at her side in an instant, memories of other times when I would find her staring at her reflection and tracing a new bruise that hadn’t been there before.
“Mom?” I deliberately moved between her and the mirror, breaking the connection with her past, and she started and blinked back to now, and smiled at me.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
I pressed a kiss to her heart, a throwback to when I used to check her heart rate to make sure she was okay—it wasn’t as if I could do anything else for her when my dad lost his temper. He was a big man, and I was nothing to him but a fly he could swat out of the way of getting to Mom. Thank god he was gone.
“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked me, her eyes suddenly bright with emotion. “We have the house back, should I take some time to be me, or am I…” she threw me a tremulous smile. “Should I be happy?”
“Mom, of course you should. And I like James.” I began, and then, smiled back at her, copying her words from earlier, changing a few words here and there. “I didn’t want to like him, but he has this way about him, bad at board games, but thoughtful when he talks to you, quiet because he can’t get a word in edgeways with Felix, but somehow, when he does talk, he makes me like him even more. So yes, as long as he…”
Looks after you. Doesn’t treat you badly. Isn’t like Dad…
She cradled my face, kissed my forehead, and hugged me close. “Thank you, Tyler.”
Now, I was confused—hadn’t we just exchanged mutual likes for our respective partners? There was nothing to thank me for. “What for?”
“For being the best son I could have wished for, and never giving up on me.”
We hugged fiercely, all those memories between us would never leave, but it had made us stronger.
The doorbell sounded again, and I took my mom’s hand and tugged her down the hallway, opening the front door with a flourish.
