1
Matt
It was a slow day at the bar, and most of the staff had been sent home. Aside from the cook we had hired, it was just me, Jordan, and Hannah running the place until the evening shift, at which point I got to go home and the rest of the crew came in. I could use a day off.
The last few weeks had been pretty crazy, and a slow, easy day off was much looked forward to. Between the bar picking up steam seemingly every night and packing people in for theme nights and regular nights alike, we were constantly rolling. Between my duties in the kitchen and running tables as well as occasional bartending when Jordan or Cris wasn’t there, I was having a hell of a time keeping myself from collapsing with exhaustion the second I got back to my apartment.
My apartment was my solitude, my fortress, and I absolutely loved it. I was a bachelor, through and through, and my home reflected that. I owned, at maximum, five towels. I wasn’t even sure exactly if that was true, but it certainly wasn’t more than five. I had blinds and no curtains in every room except my bedroom, where I had blackouts. My living room was dedicated to a giant television and the comfiest sofa and lounge chair I could find.
I was greatly looking forward to having an evening off to sit down, crack open a beer, and play video games until I drifted off to sleep.
Then Mom walked into the bar.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself. “Hey, Mom!”
“Matthew,” she said, smiling wide and walking toward me with her arms open. It didn’t matter if the bar had four people or four thousand in it, she was going to come hug me in front of all of them.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as nonjudgmentally as I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my mother; I adored her. It was just that if she was here this late in the afternoon, it meant she had no plans on going home. Driving at night was not her strong suit. And considering that Jordan and Hannah and the baby were all in a small apartment as they saved up money to buy a house, that meant there was only one place for Mom to stay.
“It was the funniest thing,” she said. “I was sitting at home on a call with Samantha—that’s one of my fancy ladies you know—and she went on and on about Portland and how much she liked it when she visited. Then I thought, you know what? I haven’t been there in ages, and I have a brand-new grandbaby up there who needs some of his grandmother’s love. So, I’m here!”
The Fancy Ladies was the name of Mom’s group of older ladies who went out together at least once a week. Their adventures ranged from the normal grandmotherly type of crocheting shopping trips and sessions to the more risqué trips to strip clubs with names like the Banana Hammock.
“Mom, hey,” came a voice behind me, and I turned to see Jordan walking out of the back room. Hannah must have been in the kitchen gathering orders because she came out right behind him and smiled.
“Jordan, my baby, how are you?” Mom asked as she drew him into a hug, then went into, almost word for word, the same description of how she got here to him.
“Come on, grab a booth, let’s get you a drink,” Hannah said as she came by, taking Mom’s hand and guiding her over to an empty booth.
“Wait a second,” Mom said, “if you’re both here, who’s watching the baby?”
“Remember how I told you Hannah’s parents send her money every month?” Jordan said. Mom nodded.
“Well, I figured if my parents weren’t going to be a part of my baby’s life, the least they could pay for the nanny. So, we hired a nanny for when I’m at work,” Hannah said.
“She’s only usually here a couple days a week,” Jordan put in.
“Oh, well, that makes sense,” Mom said.
“So, are you going to hang out for a couple days?” Hannah asked.
“I was thinking about it. I know you and Jordan have limited space right now, so I was thinking about renting a hotel room,” she said. Her voice trailed off as she said it in the way that I knew instantly what she was aiming for. She wanted me to offer, and she knew I would, too.
“That’s silly, Mom,” I said, trying to hold my sigh inside. “I have a guest bedroom. You can stay with me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” she said in that way that said she was just being polite.
“It’s fine, really,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I am going to be off soon, so we can head right over and get you situated.”