Page 42 of Brad & Finn (Gomillion High Reunion #3)

brAD

Brad once again woke up to the sound of knocking on his door.

It was soft at first but grew more insistent as it continued.

Prying open his aching eyes, he pushed himself up into what could loosely be considered an upright position.

The memory of waking up the previous morning with Finn in his arms threatened to send him right back to bed.

Finn, who’d texted Brad last night…and Brad had never responded.

He stared down at the ugly floral print comforter and still didn’t know how to respond.

How could he explain to Finn that in all the years of their friendship—and in the twenty years since—Brad was pretty sure Finn had never done a single thing wrong.

On his run, while the front part of his brain had been fighting to remember how to breathe through pain and exhaustion, some other part of him had been working through fragments of ideas and shards of feelings, all culminating in the idea that Brad had done everything wrong.

The knock sounded again, and he rolled his shoulders before pushing himself out of bed. He opened the door to find his mom holding two cups of steaming coffee and a bag reeking of cinnamon.

“Hi, honey,” she said, her voice containing a multitude of emotions that Brad couldn’t even begin to fathom. “I was hoping maybe we could talk?”

Brad eyed the coffee like it might bite if he turned his back too quickly.

“It’s from the place on the other side of town,” she assured him. “Chloe mentioned they had much better coffee, and I decided you were worth taking a risk and trying it out.”

To be clear, Brad loved his mother. He loved her with every part of his soul, and that meant that he would never do something as rude as snatch the cup out of her hand and slam the door so he could be alone with his one true love—this coffee.

Instead, he very gently took the cup out of her hand and pressed his face to the lid of the cup like he was looking through The Roll’s window, trying to gauge how crowded it was.

“Oh, dear…” his mom said, and she handed him her coffee as well. He tried to hand it back, but she shook her head adamantly. “Honey, there is no way I need this as much as you do, and in fact, this is a great segue into what I came to talk to you about.”

Well, that was somehow both ominous and confusing.

“Do you…want to talk here?” Brad asked after obediently accepting and then draining half of the second cup of coffee.

He looked over his shoulder into his room, at the bed where he’d made love to Finn, and then at the other, where he’d held him through the night.

“Maybe somewhere else would be better,” she said, eyeing the newly destroyed state of his suitcase. “Do you need a few minutes? You can meet me downstairs. I’ve never minded hotel coffee, and I think I saw a station in the lobby.”

Brad agreed and did his best to hurry through his morning routine. He brushed his teeth only to bathe them in coffee a moment later, and tried to fix his hair, just to run a tired hand through it on the way out the door.

The chug of the elevator on the way down to the lobby jarred his brain against the sides of his skull in a way that sort of made him think of all those concussion videos he’d been forced to watch in school.

Luckily, he’d managed to make it his whole career with only one concussion.

It had been at the end of a long game, where he probably should have subbed out an entire quarter before he got hurt, but he’d refused.

That had sort of been a running theme in his life, huh?

He met his mom at the coffee station and received one of her signature warm-as-melted-honey-butter hugs.

Unlike twenty minutes earlier, at least he was now showered and dressed to receive it.

His mom led them outside and, to Brad’s surprise, around the corner to her car.

She drove them to a familiar parking lot, next to an all too familiar football field.

“I thought we could talk here?” she said as they walked to their favorite spot, right in the middle of the second row from the top on the home side bleachers. “I know it’s been a while, but this conversation is way past overdue.”

Brad looked out over the field, and his eyes landed on the sidelines, where Finn used to cheer from. That was where Brad had intended to do the promposal. That’s where he should have done the promposal.

He turned to his mom, and they spoke at the same time.

“I think I messed up—” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Brad—” she started.

They stopped, and his mom grabbed his hand and squeezed.

He tried not to notice how wrinkled and fragile her hand felt.

She’d always had small bones, more like a bird than a person.

It was why he’d always feared more for her than himself when his dad would fly into one of his rages.

It had only happened a few times that he could remember, and then one day, his dad hadn’t been there anymore.

The dark circles under his mom’s eyes had faded, even as they were replaced by creases and lines.

At least they were no longer due to fearful, sleepless nights.

“Sweetie,” his mom started again, and he ran his thumb over her bony knuckles. “I think it’s time we talk. About everything.”

And so, they did. She told him in a soft, measured tone how hard it had been being a single parent, but she said that Brad had been the perfect son, and what a relief that had been…for a while. She apologized, and Brad tried to stop her, but she silenced him by placing her other hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry that you had to be perfect,” she said. “Children aren’t supposed to be perfect. They’re supposed to make mistakes and do dumb things, and most importantly…they’re not supposed to have to take care of their parents. At least, not until we’re a lot older than I am, even now.”

She thanked him profusely for all his financial help, and again, he tried to stop her, but she soldiered on, going so far as to shush him when he tried to protest.

“And then there’s the way I’ve so unhelpfully tried to push you to date,” she said. “On top of that, the one time you try to tell me that you’ve found someone, someone who could have the potential to make you happy, I mess it all up.”

Brad didn’t protest this time. He felt like he should, but he also heard that tiny voice in his head say that yes, in fact, maybe they had both messed it all up.

“You seem so happy when you’re helping those kids at work.”

“I am,” he said, and at least he knew that much was true.

“I wanted you to have more opportunities to do that. I don’t care about—what was it you said? Making a name for yourself?”

Brad grimaced and looked back out across the field.

“I don’t think you really care about that, either,” she continued.

If she had asked him a week ago, he probably would have said that no, he didn’t know that, but things felt different between them now.

“I’m not going to insult all you’ve done for me and say I don’t care about the money, but we’re both so much better off than we were when you were little. ”

“Or right after college,” he added. Back then, they’d both been drowning in their own bills and barely able to stay afloat.

She nodded. “Or right after you finished college. You’ve done so well for yourself…and for me. But I don’t want you to live your life for me or despite your father. I want you to live it for you .”

Brad’s butt had gone numb almost twenty minutes ago, and it started to prickle, much like the skin on the back of his neck. “I don’t…know if I know how to do that.”

“Well, I think it starts with figuring out what you want.”

All he could think was that he wanted Finn, but there was no way he could say that to his mom. There was too much history and too much baggage to unpack.

“Just say it, sweetie, because I can see you struggling.”

His mom looked at him like no one, not even Finn, had ever looked at him before. She held his entire history in her hands, and her eyes held enough acceptance that he felt like maybe he really could say what he was thinking.

Brad leaned back and looked up at the stadium lights and the grey sky behind them. “I want…something I don’t think I can have.”

His mom squeezed his hand, and he closed his eyes.

“Is it Finn?” she asked, and Brad nearly fell off the bleachers, but her surprisingly firm grip kept him in place.

“How…how do you know that?”

“I ran into Chloe and Finn last night,” she explained. “We got to talking, and they helped me realize all the pressure I’ve been putting on you. Finn also came out to me. I think maybe so you wouldn’t have to tell me or worry about having this conversation.”

Brad was utterly and completely speechless.

“I feel so guilty that I didn’t immediately support you,” she said. “And not only because Finn has so clearly been your person since high school, but because I truly do support you in absolutely anything and everything you do.”

“Anything and everything?” he asked, though it was less skepticism and more surprise.

“Yes. Whether that’s quitting your job and moving to Indianapolis, or keeping your job, and having Finn move in with you, the details don’t matter.

I wholeheartedly, with every fiber of my being, love and support you, honey.

I want absolutely nothing for you—not success, not wealth, not notoriety. Nothing except happiness.”

The caffeine in Brad’s system desperately tried to keep up with his mom’s earnestness. Where Finn’s thoughts seemed to spool out and away from him, his mom’s had always sort of fallen right out of her mouth.

“I…don’t think I’m going to quit my job and move to Indianapolis,” he said slowly. “I’m excited for my job. It’s my dream job. I mean…it's been my dream job for so long.”

Brad wished there was more conviction in his voice because he could see it on his mom’s face, the doubt he’d started to see when he looked in the mirror.