“How about to eat at Morgan’s? Have you been?” I suggest and immediately notice Miss Jones’s huff of disapproval. I shouldn’t be taking the lead, according to Southern etiquette rules, but you know what? She can stuff that huff where it came from.
“I haven’t yet, but if that’s where you’d like to go, that’s where it’ll be.”
“You said this weekend?”
“That’s right,” he answers, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“You’re staying long then?”
“I might be moving down here.” His answer echoes in my head, over and over like a bad replay and in that time, I somehow agree to him picking me up after work on Friday for the date.
With the time and place set, he leaves with a short wave.
The second he’s gone, the whistle is between my lips as I hyperventilate.
“Oh my, oh my.” Miss Jones has more color in her cheeks than I’ve seen since the dinner she threw for New Year’s two years back.
“Oh my what?” Renee asks, picking herself up.
“We are in for a treat.”
“It’s not a treat,” I murmur and Miss Jones is quick to click her tongue in disagreement.
“Take it from me, dear, I know a thing or two.” She gives me a kind smile even though her eyes reflect sympathy. “This is going to be a wild ride. So smile, dear. When you look back on it, you’re going to want to remember you did it with a smile.”
Brody
“Is this for some girl?” My mother’s tone is grating as I run a hand down my face.
“We talked about this.” My mother, she’s … she’s lonely. She’s been lonely since my dad left her and even lonelier since my grandfather died a few years back. “I told you I wanted to come down here with Griffin and start this business.”
“And I told you it was time to settle down.”
If it wasn’t my mother on the other end of the phone, I’d simply hang up. I’m not in the habit of taking orders from people. I don’t like for my intent to be ignored either. My mother’s good at both of those. She knows best and all that. But really, she’s lonely and she doesn’t want me to move away. I hear it in her voice, with her faint upper East Coast accent. She’s from New York and never lost the cadence of her hometown.
“You can always come down here,” I say to get right to the point, nodding at a template Griffin’s holding up. There were five mock-ups a graphic designer pitched for our logo. “That one,” I mouth to him, with my mother still on the phone going on about how she can’t leave and neither can I. Or at least that’s what I hear through it all.
“Mom, you know I love you. I’m still deciding if I’m going to move down here, though.”
“And it’s not about a girl?” Magnolia’s pouty lips and wide gaze flash across my eyes, but I shake it off. I haven’t heard from her since yesterday and as far as I’m concerned, we’re starting fresh. She’s just a girl I’d like to take out and get to know. She’s just a girl. Even to my own ears, the statement sounds false.
Breathing in deeply, I joke, “You want me to get married so soon?”
“You aren’t a spring chicken, Brody.”
Ignoring my mother’s comment, I focus on the topic at hand. “I mean it when I say you’d like it down here. You know how Gramps liked to go sailing … It reminded me of him when I came to see Griffin.”
And he believed in me. I wish he were alive to see it all coming together. He’d be proud. Although he’d be on my ass about that license.
My mother’s silence strikes a chord in me.
“Just promise you’ll come to visit before you decide to be up in arms about me moving down here. I’ll even unpack and stop living out of my luggage bags for you.” The humorous huff is as good as I’m going to get. I know it.
The sound of Griffin opening up a window in the far right corner comes with an immediate gust of saltwater air. I fucking love it. I take deep breaths in and out as my mother lists all the reasons she can’t come down to visit me and how I need to really think about what I’m doing.
It’s a damn good thing she can’t come down right now, I think, as she keeps talking and I take in the state of this apartment. I figured a three-month lease would work and then once we’re settled, if things go well, I might look for something more permanent. It’s a simple beige space with no furniture other than the foldout chairs and table Griffin brought down from his parents’ basement.
My mother would be livid. Of the list of shit I have to do, though, furniture shopping is low on it. I have a bed in the bedroom at least. A bed and a hot shower are all I need right now.