Chapter 40
FORTY
SHANE
Muted sounds and shuffling drift over me, fuzzy and far away.
My world dips.
“Baby?”
The garbled word is faint.
“Baby?”
My eyes try to open, but it’s like they’re sealed shut.
A hand drifts through my hair, and that’s when I smell it. Orange and vanilla bean.
“Momma?” I croak.
“Oh, baby. I’m here.”
My eyes flood, and now I’m desperately trying to keep them shut. My mom’s here.
And holy fucking nutballs. My head feels like someone’s slamming a sledgehammer to it repeatedly. I groan.
My mom clucks sympathetically.
I let out a watery breath, then push to sit up—and immediately freeze. Everything rocks. Oh, God.
“Easy, honey. Here, let me help you.”
Working with incredible slowness, we shift me until I’m propped up against some pillows. I let my head fall back into the pillows, my neck not up to the task of holding it up. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath.
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
“You’ve been avoiding me, Shane.”
I wince and keep my eyes closed. I can see the disapproving stare through my eyelids.
She harrumphs. “I got an interesting call from a teammate of yours last night. He reassured me you’re still alive.”
Someone called my mom?
“He said your father showed up,” she says quietly.
Agony tears through me, sharp and swift.
A stuttered gasp falls from me, my ribs crushing inward so tightly I’m sure they’re going to puncture my lungs.
Fuck. Will it never stop hurting? I swear my heart is breaking again.
I didn’t think that was possible, didn’t think there were any pieces large enough left to break.
But that’s the thing. There were pieces.
Now just dust. The remnants of a final shattering.
Soft hands cradle my cheeks, grip firm. “I love you, Shane. I. Love. You.”
I manage to draw in a shaky breath. The pain lessens slightly. “I’m hanging on by a thread,” I say hoarsely.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I will never forgive him for what he’s done to you. But you are so loved. Not just by me. Your friends here too. They care about you so much, darling.”
My eyes flick open, that familiar blue reflecting back at me.
“Hey.” She smiles softly. “There’s my baby boy.”
“H-how long are you here?” I should be embarrassed by the desperation in my voice, but I don’t fucking care. I need my damn momma right now.
“As long as you need. I have a hotel room nearby. I can stay here if you need me too, but I didn’t want to overstep.”
I relax into the pillows. Just knowing she’s going to be close for the near future eases some of the ache that’s been my constant companion the past few days.
“I made you your favorite hangover cure.”
Even through the heavy fog, I perk up slightly. “Really?”
Her lips press tight against a laugh, but somehow a dimple pops through anyway. “Of course, I did.” She disappears and is back a second later with a pepperoni, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich.
“Ohmygodiloveyousomuch.” My eyes burn all over again. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.
“Extra pepperoni.”
I tear off a huge bite, and my eyes flutter shut. Heaven. I have no idea why this helps so much, maybe the salt? But every damn time it kills the hangover. I think the extra pepperoni is healing a bit of my heart too. Or maybe that’s the cheese.
“Goodness, you’re an animal.” She grabs a towel from the nightstand and lays it out over my chest and lap.
I lift a shoulder, my mouth too full of deliciousness to respond.
She watches me, blue eyes alight with amusement as I devour the sandwich. “Well, this is a version of you I recognize. A bit better.”
I wipe my mouth with a napkin and shoot her a half-smile as I take a swig of water. I feel almost human now and less like I bathed in a vat of vodka. My head still feels like a team is taking batting practice in it, though.
“Now that we have you fed…what happened, Shane?”
I grimace and fall back into my pillows with a floof.
“I met my half-brother,” I whisper. “He was actually pretty cool. And…I think he liked me. Think he wanted to get to know me, ya know?”
It’s weird, but that hurts too, losing a brother I don’t even know. I didn’t realize how excited I was to have family until he was snatched away.
I keep my eyes closed as I relay the story. The whole fucking saga. It’s easier that way. Mom stays with me, hand tight around mine, squeezing when I need reassurance, making soft sounds of acknowledgement at all the right moments. She just knows what I need. My perfect momma.
I finish relaying the horror that was my first interaction with my father since he left us and finally take a breath.
“I don’t know why he’s such a horrible person, Shane,” she whispers tightly. “I hate myself that he’s your father—”
“Momma, no.”
“Don’t interrupt, darling. It’s not polite.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She winks at me. “I don’t regret it because it gave me you, and you are my greatest gift.
But I wish I’d chosen better because you deserved so much more than that pile of scum for a father.
That’s what he is, Shane. Your father is not a nice man.
It doesn’t just extend to you and me. I’ve heard stories and seen him interact with others.
I’m not sure why some people are evil in this world.
But, baby, him being the way he is has nothing to do with you. ”
She lifts our intertwined hands and kisses my knuckles. “You’re such a light, baby. I don’t think he could stand being around someone so pure and good. It made him have to face his ugliness.”
Maybe. It’s hard to grasp why a parent would leave their child.
I know the bond I have with my mom, and I could never leave her.
And he did…for what? For money? To rub elbows with the hoity-toities?
And based on my short interaction with Graham, I’m not so sure he was the greatest father when he actually stuck around for the role.
I know Mom is right. Considering the kind of person my father is, I know both Mom and I were better off that he left.
I’m not even sure it’s him I’ve been longing for all these years.
I think I’ve just always wanted a father who would have chosen me.
A husband who would have chosen Mom. We both deserved so much fucking better.
I knew that already, but now that I’ve experienced his cruelty, it’s glaring. And that’s something I left out in my recounting.
I draw in a steadying breath. “There’s one other thing that happened.”
“Yes?”
“You know how Frankie’s gay? And he owns it and doesn’t care who knows it?”
She nods slowly.
“My father made some assumptions…about me and Frankie. And he made it very clear what his thoughts are about queer individuals. He…” I swallow against the bile in my throat. “He insinuated we were preying on my little brother. That we were sick.”
Her face hardens, and her nose flares as she fights for calm.
“I am not surprised that he would have bigoted views,” she says, her words stilted.
“But he is wrong. The only villain in any of this is him. He is the predator, and that is exactly why he threw out those accusations. That’s what predators do: distract, find a group less powerful than them, turn them into the enemy.
It’s smoke and mirrors so they can keep preying on others. ”
Her hold on my hand tightens. “I’ll tell you right now, I’d feel a million times safer in a room full of queer individuals than in a room full of straight men.
They want you to believe otherwise, but trust me, working as an assistant to mostly men”—she shudders, and I’m a little terrified for what the reason behind that reaction is—“the last thing I’d want is to be alone with that lot. ”
She sends me a sad smile. “There are bad eggs in every group, of course, but with straight men…” She sighs, and it’s so damn heavy. So exhausted. “Shaney, it’s not all men, but it’s always men. It often feels nearly impossible to find the ones that aren’t rotten.”
My heart breaks for her. My mom is the most amazing woman—person, point blank.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s lonely. She’s dated here and there, never shared too much with me.
But no one has ever stuck. I guess we’re kinda similar in that regard.
The game of love is pretty damn hard. Feels less like a game and more like Survivor.
Her features soften, and her blue eyes smile at me. “I’m looking at one of the rare gems, though.”
My gaze skitters away, and I clear my throat. “Ah. About that…”
She makes a small, encouraging noise.
“So. He might have been wrong with his assumption about me and Frankie, but he wasn’t so wrong with the queer part. I…I’ve realized I like men and women.”
She sighs. “Well, I guess that explains why you’re so lovely. Not hetero after all.”
A chuckle bursts from me. “While I do feel like I’ve had a disproportionate number of bad interactions with that demographic—especially lately—Paulie is a really great guy. So, I guess there’s a gem.”
My mom smiles. “He is a lovely boy.”
I snort.
“Man. Man. Sorry. It’s the mom in me. And I know I was just very pessimistic. There are plenty of great men out there. You just really have to dig through the filth. I swear, it’s like that scene in Jurassic Park where they’re digging through the massive piles of dung to find the cell phone.”
A surprised snort bursts from me, and my eyes go wide. I raise my brows at her, and we both fall into laughter.
She tilts her head and studies me. “How are you doing with it? Discovering this new side of yourself.”
My gaze drops to my lap, and I pick at my gray comforter. “I was doing really well with it, actually.” I bite my cheek. “Now, not so much,” I whisper.