Chapter Twenty-Three
Cliff
I hadn’t slept well. Mikey. Brighton. Nobody.
The three choices kept swirling in my head and none of them were ideal.
In my heart, I knew Mikey was my second choice.
If my suspicions were right and I was his, as well, how did that bode for our future together?
Even though I imagined I would end up loving him because of his kindness and character, would the shadows of Brighton and Aaron linger?
Brighton hadn’t suggested that he’d even consider moving to White Pines, which meant I’d need to give up everything if I chose him.
Would I end up resenting him for it? Could I even be happy away from my friends?
While I had joked often about wanting distance from my mother, that didn’t seem so amusing once it became more than a possibility.
Despite my complaints, I loved her and knew she always had my back.
Finally, the option of selecting nobody made the most sense, but it was disappointing and embarrassing.
Cliff Walker—the guy so many believe has everything—can’t attract anyone willing to put him first.
“You’re going to wear out a path on that oriental rug.” It was my mother, who had entered my library without me noticing. I didn’t realize I had been pacing until she pointed it out.
I frowned. “I’ll buy a new one.”
She crossed her arms. “Now that sounds very entitled and bougie for someone who prides himself on minimizing extravagance and contributing to charity.”
“Hmm,” I muttered. “Not that much minimizing. Have you toured the property lately? When did I become so greedy? It’s no wonder people hate me.”
That threw her, the composed expression faltering. She shut the door to the room, walked to me and put a hand on my arm. “Sit.”
“Don’t feel like it,” I replied.
“And I’m still your mother. Sit,” she repeated.
I huffed but did as I was told. She took the chair next to mine.
“I’m trying to sort out my decision for later, Mom. I don’t have time for…whatever this is.”
“For once, you’ll make time for your mother,” she said, as if I never did. I rolled my eyes, and she scowled. “Don’t give me attitude. When I’m in the room, I’m the only one allowed to be a diva.”
“You’re certainly the best at it,” I agreed.
“I should have listened to that crazy preacher from the Methodist church on Park Street. Do you remember him?”
I shook my head. “Who are you talking about? The one who was there when I was a kid? Reverend Jones?”
She slapped her hand on the arm of the chair. “Yes! Jones—like the preacher who made all those crazies drink poisoned Kool-Aid. How could I forget?”
“What about him?”
“He told me I shouldn’t spare the rod. I couldn’t understand how he could have looked at your sweet little face and thought about beating you.
Fast-forward… I was too quick to judge. Look how disrespectful you’ve become.
Maybe I should contact Elon Musk to see if he’s in the process of building a time machine or something. ”
I scowled, not wanting to hear that man’s name or my mother’s punishment fantasies.
“Really? Regrets about not smacking me when I was younger? You know that corporal punishment just teaches kids to use violence as a means of winning a conflict. And there’s no evidence they grow up any better.
Look at Brett Arnesen. His mother used to whip his ass all the time. Now he’s in jail for domestic abuse.”
“Well, he probably doesn’t talk back to his mother,” she pointed out, just to be difficult.
“No need to. He killed her along with his wife!” I reminded her.
She shrugged. “I didn’t say he was perfect.”
I exhaled loudly. I hated when she’d say ridiculous things just to get under my skin. “What did you want, Mom?”
She smirked. My mother felt victorious when her needling ended with her having the last word.
“I want to address your negative attitude. You saying everyone hates you is so bonkers, that I’m sure even you—Mr. Worry About How Everyone Perceives Me—doesn’t believe that.
The only thing people probably dislike about you is how you go into inexplicable funks, get down on yourself, and become surly.
And who’s the one who always needs to snap you out of it? ”
I sighed. “You.”
She smiled. “That’s right, darling. Now talk. Mommy’s here.”
I narrowed my eyes, but the mischief in her eyes made me chuckle. “God, you’re annoying.”
“Are you seeing your reflection in the mirror on that wall?” she shot back. Unfortunately, there was a mirror right behind her head where I could see myself.
I changed the subject. “Okay, maybe not everyone hates me. But nobody likes me enough that I’m their first choice or would take me without conditions. I try to be a nice guy. People tell me I’m easy to look at. Is it the money? Am I a jerk with how I spend it?”
“You mean that not enough of it is on me? I’d say yes.
A mother asks her rich son to buy her a new convertible, and you’d think she’d asked for a yacht.
” She couldn’t hide her amusement. “You know, I should look up that Reverend Jones. He was an asshole, but he was kind of cute. I’ll bet his wife dumped him years ago. ”
“If I recall, he’s dead just like Mrs. Arnesen. But by all means, check him out. He’ll never talk back to you,” I pointed out.
“Fresh.”
“Was this your plan? Torment me to get my mind off my troubles?” I asked.
“Is it working?”
“No,” I assured her. “And I just bought you that Escalade last year. How can you already be looking for a new car? Mine is three years old and I have no plans of replacing it for a long time. I’m trying…”
“Not to be extravagant,” she finished, rolling her eyes.
“I heard you the last one hundred times you told me. And I’m teasing.
I wouldn’t have let you buy me a convertible.
I just asked for it so my follow-up request for that beautiful Gucci bag would seem reasonable. Thank you again for that, by the way.”
I leaned back in the chair. “You’re welcome. But…that was excessive, too. Maybe we need to cut back. There are people starving.”
To my surprise, my mother seemed to contemplate that.
“Okay. Though, sweetheart, you could be spending so much more. You give away lots. You’re not Jesus.
I don’t think people expect you to donate everything you work for.
But if you believe we’re buying things that go over a line that you’re comfortable with, then let’s adjust.”
“Just like that?” I asked. “You’re not going to fight me?”
“It’s your money, Cliff,” she replied. “And don’t make it sound like I can’t conceive of scaling back. Do I need to remind you how much I scraped by when I raised you?”
It was moments like this that reminded me why I loved her so much, even if she was impossible.
“You don’t need to. And, Mom, you never let me feel deprived.
I appreciate how you found a way to make my Christmas and birthday celebrations special, and you came up with the money for me to play sports or join clubs.
I’ve often thought about how you drove that shitty Dodge for most of my childhood and never made me feel guilty about the sacrifices you made. ”
Her expression softened. “I’d do everything the same. Your smile meant more to me than new shoes or whatever else I wished for. Maybe now that there’s cash, I’ve gone a little overboard, making up for lost time. I don’t know. But I can cut back.”
I shook my head. “Yet here I’m tempted to buy you that convertible after thinking about the Dodge. God, do you remember there were times it broke down on the highway and we’d need to wait forever for someone to come help us?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. And it seemed to happen whenever it was below freezing or approaching one hundred degrees!”
“Of course.” I chuckled. “But I don’t remember those times being bad.”
My mother touched my arm. “Because they weren’t. I used to play a game with you about who could spot the most out-of-state license plates, or we’d talk about things that were going on in your life.”
“Yeah.” I bit my lip. “I’d miss you if I moved away, Mom.”
She seemed surprised by the change of subject, but she was quiet for a moment. “Are you thinking about moving away, Cliff?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think so.
” She waited, this time not saying anything so that I’d elaborate.
“Brighton would have been my choice. His daughter changed her plans about studying here in Vermont, though. Seems it dawned on the ex-wife that there was a real chance I’d choose Brighton, and she feared a family being formed that didn’t include her. ”
“And he’s not willing to move here if his daughter stays in London?”
“Nope.” I purposely banged my head against the back of the chair.
“And Mikey was a strong possibility, but I’m becoming more convinced that Aaron isn’t as straight as he likes to believe.
And I think everyone was right that Mikey would jump at the chance to be with him if he knew.
I’ve decided that I don’t want to be someone’s second choice. ”
“You shouldn’t be,” she answered. “You’re wonderful, Cliff.
Put the constructive criticism of a mother aside.
You are a good man! And you’re incredibly handsome, kind, smart, and loved—even though you’re too thick-headed to believe it sometimes.
I’m sure there are hundreds, maybe thousands of men who’ve been watching the show who wish they could be one of the contestants. ”
I shrugged. “But they weren’t. You were right, Mom.
Maybe this was my chance…and now it’s gone.
” I looked away from her. “And you were also correct that I’m jealous of my friends.
They all have something I want more than any of this.
” I waved my hand around the room to explain what I meant.
“I wish someone would love me.” She was about to object, and I held up a hand. “Besides you. No offense.”