Chapter Fourteen #3
She felt different than he remembered—softer in his arms, like her bones were closer to the surface. She’d lost muscle tone, the way people did when they got older.
Jem hugged her a little tighter. “You didn’t tell me you were coming to the airport.”
“I thought you’d tell me not to.”
She was right. She was also getting his shirt wet.
Finally they pulled away from each other. Somehow his mother still looked pristine, even though Jem felt like a wreck and had a wet patch on his shirt like he’d been lactating.
“Look at you,” she cooed as she stepped back to evaluate him from a distance. “Don’t they have barbers in California? Your hair is so long. Did you take up surfing?”
Jem’s hair barely curled around his ears. “No. Why, do you think I should?”
She swatted at him and took the arm not dragging his suitcase.
“Absolutely not. Now, I know you haven’t met your stepsiblings yet, but they’re excited to meet you anyway.
Penny volunteered to let Colton bunk with her so you could have his room for the weekend, but there’s a pull-out couch downstairs if you need more than a twin bed—”
Jem’s throat closed and his eyes burned, and then they stepped outside and the humid South Carolina night washed over him like a balm. He’d booked a hotel, but he could cancel it. “A twin bed’s fine, Mom. It’s just me.”
“Just you now,” she agreed, “but is there someone special?”
He should’ve expected that. He was here for his half brother’s wedding, after all. “I’m seeing someone,” he offered. His mom had made a few mistakes raising him, but homophobia hadn’t been one of them. “He couldn’t come this weekend, though. Work commitments.”
Also, part of him thought showing up to your formerly estranged half brother’s wedding with your famous musician boyfriend might be kind of gauche. Andrew and Dana should enjoy the entirety of the spotlight.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” She clicked the fob on her keychain, and the lights flashed as the trunk on a newer-model Honda popped open. “Will I get to meet him?”
He jolted a little as he closed the trunk on his luggage. “I, ah. Maybe.” He’d never introduced his mother to any of his partners before, though that was more about her than any of them. “It’s complicated. He has a… pretty demanding job.”
He bit his lip. Things were never going to be perfect between them. His mom was never going to apologize for keeping the truth from him, and he was never going to fully get over the hurt.
But he didn’t have to hold back from experiencing the good things because of it.
“Maybe if you come out to California,” he suggested. “Bring—bring Paul, if you want, the kids too.”
His mother didn’t ask where they’d stay, or how they’d afford that, or suggest Jem and River visit them. Instead she said, “That would be wonderful.”
Jem’s mom had moved in with Paul—technically his stepfather, but since Jem had never met him in person, he was going with Paul or Mom’s Husband—a few years after Jem left for college. They got married a few years after that.
Logically, he knew that meant she’d left his childhood home. But he hadn’t expected the place she’d moved into.
The house was a raised ranch in an older middle-class neighborhood, with meticulous gardens and overflowing hanging flower baskets on the porch. Jem vaguely remembered his mother mentioning something about Paul working as a supervisor at some manufacturing job.
He didn’t realize until he saw the place that he’d been carrying a lot of worry about his mother being comfortable.
Not now, though; she opened the front door and let him in and suddenly there was a little spaniel winding around his ankles, two kids with teenish-round faces peering over the railing from the living room, and someone in the kitchen making dinner.
Ten years of that weight slipped away, and Jem set down his bags, petted the dog, shook hands with Paul, and waved awkwardly to Penny and Colton—shit, he should’ve met them when they were still in the single digits, he was so much better with younger kids—and it was weird, but good.
It was still early in California, but by the time dinner was over, Jem was wiped out. He thanked Colton again for the use of his room, showered off the airplane, and closed the door with a gentle click.
Colton was about twelve, by Jem’s guess, and his room was in that transition period between kid and teenager.
It had dark blue walls and plain striped curtains, but the pillow case had cartoon characters on it.
He had a poster of some anime character from one of the popular kids’ shows, but on the back of the door, he had one of the Flat Tires.
Jem took a picture of it to share with River, thinking it would make a good joke, and then remembered River didn’t know he was here.
He couldn’t quite bring himself to delete it, though.
For now, he just wanted River, in whatever way he could have him.
“Sunshine!” River chirped when he picked up. “What, no video today? Have I been bad?”
Jem smiled in spite of himself. “You tell me.”
“I’ve been the picture of innocence.” The background noise faded as presumably River moved somewhere quieter. “How’s California without those fresh-faced five-year-olds?”
Jem stifled the twinge of guilt over his dishonesty but told himself he couldn’t jeopardize River’s reinvigorated love of music by adding guilt over missed family events to the equation. “Quiet,” he complained. “Boring. When are you coming home, again?”
“Soon,” River promised. “God. You don’t make it easy, do you?”
“Depends what ‘it’ is.” Jem lay down on the twin-size bed and looked up at the ceiling. “If you mean staying away from me, then no.”
“I could fly you out here. First-class all the way, the real VIP experience. Caviar and champagne in the green room and everything.” He paused. “Caviar’s not shellfish, is it?”
“No,” Jem laughed. “And you do not have caviar back there. Come on.”
“Fine, it’s KFC and a hundred pounds of Swedish Berries—it’s still yours if you want it. Ripe for the taking. Uh, metaphorically. I don’t think you’re supposed to eat chicken ripe.”
What a dork. Jem stretched and wiggled his toes. “As tempting as that sounds, I’ll pass this time. You should enjoy your last road trip with the boys.”
River sighed gustily, put-upon. “Fine. Are you and Tori celebrating this weekend? Freedom from the germ factory?”
A nasty virus had taken out a third of the staff in the final two weeks of school, in rotating shifts. Miraculously, he and Tori had avoided infection. “If by ‘celebrating’ you mean ‘staying in bed in our pajamas all weekend.’”
At least, Jem thought that was Tori’s plan, and it was what he’d have done if he’d actually stayed at home.
Maybe next year he’d get to do it with River next to him. That seemed like something to aspire to. “You could be doing that here,” River complained.
“I think I can do a repeat, if you’re up to it.” Jem smiled. “Just come home to me.”
“All right, sunshine. You have a deal.”