21

Christian

I’m in a pretty bad fucking mood by the time I cross town and pull into my parents’ driveway. My phone pings and it’s Linc checking to see if I want to go out for a beer. I give a humorless laugh. He seems to be about as happy as I am at being back home. I text back to let him know I’ll be up for it later, and that I have to go say hello to the family.

I kill the ignition and climb from my Jeep, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling eating at me. Ryan is Maize’s friend. Sure, he wrapped her up in a big hug and looked at her with pure adoration in his eyes, and she did the same. But they’re just friends, right? Maybe they’re still friends with benefits. Damned if that doesn’t burn a hole in my gut and make me want to go back there and beat the shit out of him. Oh, but I can’t do that.

Why the fuck didn’t you lay claim already, dude?

Isn’t that the question of the century. If I was being honest with myself, I’m a bit of a chicken shit. My whole life, I was adamant that I wasn’t going to get involved in a serious relationship. I didn’t want to fall into the pattern my parents did. The love, or infatuation, or whatever it is, fades, and you end up resenting one another, yet you have a kid, so you stick it out and live un-happily ever after. Real fucking fairy tale that is.

I open the front door, and step into the spacious front entry. Dropping my bag, I call out to my mother.

“Christian,” Mom says and comes to greet me, looking completely put together with her perfect clothes, hair and makeup. After a hug, she tucks a blond strand behind her ear and stands back. “Let me look at you.” She takes me in, and probably doesn’t like that I’m dressed in jeans and my football jacket, but instead of saying anything, she smiles and leans in for another hug. It’s been four months since I’ve last been home, and I haven’t changed physically. In other ways, maybe, but I’m still fit from football and exercise. “So good to see you, but you do need a haircut.”

I run my fingers through my hair, and nod in agreement. “It’s good to be home,” I say as her familiar expensive perfume fills the air around us. “Dad back yet?”

“He doesn’t get in until tomorrow afternoon.” She plasters on a smile. “Why don’t you put your things into your room, and come back down for coffee.” There’s a strain in her voice when she adds, “Your grandmother is on her way over. She’s bringing your favorite cookies. We thought you’d be home by now.”

“Sorry, got a little tied up and couldn’t get away until later.” Even though I’m not a kid anymore, Grandma still likes to bake for me, and I like it, too. “Give me a sec to drop my bag in my room.” I dart up the stairs and set my bag onto my bed and instantly go on a trip down memory lane as I glance around the spacious room. My bedroom is exactly as I left it four years ago. But I definitely feel different than I did when I left for college. In so many ways, ways that actually scare me a bit. The front door opens and I hear Grandma’s voice, so I head to the stairs, taking them two at a time, and throw my arms around her.

“Grandma, I missed you.”

She laughs and whacks me as she shoves a container of cookies at me. “Oh, phooey, you missed my peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”

“That’s true, too.” I laugh as I take the container, and for a brief second I think of tucking a few away for Maize. Although by the time I pick her up to go back to Kingston, they’d be stale. Unless, of course, I made a special trip across town.

She doesn’t want her mom to know about you, dude.

“Now, let me have a look at you.” I laugh, despite the storm going on inside me, and spread my arms. I spin to let her examine me, see that nothing is broken. She never was a lover of football and is always worried I’m going to get hurt. I love her for that, but football is my calling, and down the road, maybe teaching or coaching. A ridiculous image of Maize and me living in the city together, any city, while she practices law, and I teach, coming home to our own place afterward, careens through my brain. I shake it off, but don’t miss the way Grandma is studying me with those perceptive eyes of hers.

“Still in one piece, Grandma.” She narrows her blue eyes and gives me a once over.

“There’s something different.”

“Maybe it’s that I’m not a teenager anymore.” I laugh and brush off her concerns, not wanting her to delve any deeper.

“Nope, that’s not it. You keeping your grades up?”

“Always.”

Mom stands there quietly, her brow furrowed. She clearly can’t quite figure out what Grandma is seeing. Why would she? She’s never taken the time to really look below the surface where I was concerned. No, I was a means to an end, a pawn in her marriage plot.

I hold my arms out for Mom and Grandma. “Come on, let’s go have a cup of coffee and some cookies.”

I guide them into the kitchen and Grandma sits as Mom pours three cups of coffee, and I dig into the container of cookies like a five-year-old.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say when she sets my coffee in front of me.

She pats my arm. “Let me grab the cream.”

“I don’t take cream, remember? Just sugar, lots of sugar.”

“Oh right.” She hands the cream to Grandma and I smile to myself. Maize remembered I like my coffee with just sugar. She also went to extreme measures to make me the perfect breakfast. I still can’t believe she did that. Then again, maybe I can. My stomach tightens. Jesus, how the hell am I going to go through the entire Christmas break without seeing her? I’m not, and she’s just going to have to deal with that.

No, dude, she doesn’t want you at her place.

To fucking bad.

“What’s her name?” Grandma asks, pulling my thoughts back as she drops two sugar cubes into her mug and stirs it.

My head lifts, the ridiculous smile on my face dissolving faster than her sugar. “What?”

Grandma takes a sip of coffee and looks at me over the rim. I grab a cookie and practically shove the whole thing into my mouth so I don’t have to talk, but she’s a patient woman. She’ll wait until I eat the whole container and then resume her questioning.

“Are you seeing someone, Christian?” Mom asks, a hopeful look in her eyes as I hold the container of cookies to her. She’s always pushing for me to get serious. I guess my single, play the field status doesn’t look good to her.

“Uh, no.” I give a fast shake of my head and set the container down when she holds her hand up, palm out. “Too busy with football and studying.”

Mom adjusts the silk scarf around her neck. “It’s not right, Christian. You should be thinking about your future wife and children at this point in your life.”

I almost choke on my cookie. Why the hell would she care? She trapped my father, for Christ’s sake. Does she think she’s going to be a better grandparent than she was a parent? Grandma makes a scoffing sound, and Mom casts her a quick glance. Like I said, Grandma never really was a fan of my mother, but she’s always been good to me.

“I am thinking about my future, Mom.” I should have joined Linc for that beer. But this conversation would have happened sooner or later, so I might as well get it out of the way now.

I exhale and go for another cookie, and brace myself. “Many of your friends are engaged now, Christian. Just last week Wanda told me that Megan was planning her spring wedding.”

“Oh yeah, good for Megan. Not everyone has to get engaged straight out of college. It’s not a crime to stay single.”

Ignoring me she continues. “Megan plans to bring her fiancé to the Christmas party. Perhaps she has a few single friends. I’ll ask her mother.”

“Please don’t.” Jesus, I hate the annual Christmas party. Hate Mom trying to set me up with one of her friends’ daughters. AKA the mean girls from my high school years, and I’m not interested in getting fixed up or hooking up with any of them.

“I ran into Chelsea the other day,” Mom continues. “She’s at Princeton, doing a literature degree. She’s a lovely girl, Christian.”

“Leave the boy alone,” Grandma says, and Mom stiffens. “He’ll get married when he’s ready and not a day before.” There’s a warning in Grandma’s voice and my mother’s face pales in response.

“More coffee?” Mom asks and stands.

I take a huge sip of mine. “I’m good.” My phone pings and my heart leaps, hoping it’s Maize. I leave it for now, because both Mom and Grandma hate phones at the table and I’d probably start smiling like the village idiot again. Grandma already suspects something as it is.

“Maybe you should get that,” Grandma says, taking me by surprise. My gaze flies to hers, but her face is expressionless, and I grin at her. She’s far too wise for any of us.

I tug my phone from my pocket, and it’s a message from Linc letting me know he gathered up some of the guys and they were all headed out to shoot some pool. I’m not sure why, but I have a feeling something is up with him. I’ve been so caught up in myself, I’ve been a shitty friend. “It’s Linc.”

“How is he?” Mom asks. “I do hope he’s coming to the party this year. He always has an open invitation, but never comes.”

“He’s busy with his own family.” I reach for another cookie, and turn the conversation around, asking Mom about her Thanksgiving weekend, and Grandma about all her clubs. Soon enough, it’s time for Grandma to head back home, and even though she’s in her late sixties, she’s still driving and still going strong.

I walk her to her car and give her a big hug, promising I’ll visit. She drives off and I check the time. My guess is the guys are still at the pub, and dammit I could use a drink or two right about now. I hurry back in the house, and Mom is sitting at the table, her day planner out.

“I’m going to head out and meet the guys.” I put my hands in my pockets. “Shoot some pool.”

She smiles up at me. “You aren’t staying for dinner?”

“No, I’ll grab something when I’m out.” When she looks like she’s going to protest, I add, “You’re right. I should catch up with the old crew.” Her smile widens, because she thinks the old crew means some of the girls she’s interested in setting me up with. It’s all for show with her, though. It doesn’t look good at the country club that her son is still playing the field, so to speak. I head to the cupboard, and take out a small plastic bag.

Mom’s eyes narrow, confusion all over her face, as I pack up a few cookies. “What on earth are you doing, Christian?”

“You know how much Linc loves Grandma’s cookies,” I fib, and honestly I don’t even know what I’m doing. My thoughts are so consumed with Maize it has me fucked up and acting out of character. My mother, who knows so little about me, is even picking up on my strange behavior. “I’ll catch up with you later. We’ll play some games, or maybe a puzzle.”

She smiles, happy with that. “Keep tomorrow evening free. We have dinner plans at La Fresca when your dad gets back.”

“Okay.” I drop a kiss onto her cheek, and her perfume gets on my skin. “Don’t wait up for me.”

I head back outside, jump into my Jeep and my insides are a twisted mess as I drive to our favorite pub. I try to get Maize out of my mind, and brush off the unease in my gut as I walk inside to find Linc and two of our buddies at the pool table. I gesture the server for a round of beer for us all, and make my way over.

“Hey bud, you made it,” Linc says and puts his hand on my shoulder, but there’s a new sadness about him. “How’s the fam?”

I laugh, not wanting to ask him right out what’s wrong in front of everyone. “Same old, same old. You’re invited to the Christmas party this year,” I tell him. “Please come and take some of the attention off me.”

He cringes and I don’t blame him. Mom’s parties are so goddamn pretentious and boring, the only thing I can do is drink copious amounts of tequila to get through them. For a moment, I picture Maize at the party. She’d hate everything about it, and while everyone on the guest list walks around with their noses in the air, Maize is the one who is too good for them all.

“I think I have surgery that day,” Linc says, with a grin that seems forced. Yeah, something is definitely off. “I have to have my spleen removed.”

I laugh and reach for a pool cue as Curtis and Finn come over and greet me. They were both on our high school football team and both now play for Georgia. They’re tight, like Linc and I are. “Dude, it’s been too long,” they both say and take turns shaking my hand and embracing me at the same time, the weird way guys do.

“What have you two been up to?” I ask, and lean against the wall as the server comes with our beers. She gives me a big smile, and while I would normally flirt back, I’m not much in the mood for it today.

She walks away and Finn whistles. “Now that’s some tight pussy.”

I shake my head, offended at his crude comment. “Come on, dude. That’s just wrong. Respect.”

Curtis takes a shot and glances at me. “What’s up your ass, Christian? Last year you said the same thing about our server.” I nod. He’s right, and I hate myself for it. Fuck, things have certainly changed a lot since our last pool game.

“You pussy-whipped or something? Like our man Linc?”

“Don’t be jealous that I’m getting it on a regular basis and you’re not,” Linc says with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. Shit, there must be something going on with him and Steph. I can feel it in my bones.

We all laugh, and I take another drink of my beer. “How’s the fam?” I ask him.

“Oh you know, putting their favorite son on a pedestal.”

“Did you hear Chelsea is having a party at the country club?” Finn says. “A reunion of sorts before we all graduate and move on.”

“No, never heard,” I say. “Can’t imagine I’ll be going.”

“One last blowout. Why not?” Curtis asks.

“I have plans,” I say and grin at Linc as Curtis sinks the last ball and wins. “Gallbladder removal.” I push off the wall and look at Linc. “Partners?”

For the next few hours we play, and shoot the shit and a few more of our buddies join us, and so do some of the girls I used to hang with. Linc orders some finger food for us all, and when Chelsea comes in, she gives me a big hug.

“Hey,” I say, as she lingers in front of me, and runs her finger down my chest. “I was talking to Fiona. She said she ran into you at the hospital.”

“Yeah, a friend got hurt.” I inch back, as she pushes against me.

“You’re friends with corn on the cob now, are you?”

Anger sears my blood and I work to keep my cool. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

She stares at me for a moment, and then laughs. “You can’t be serious, Christian.”

“Leave it,” I say and wonder why I ever went out with her, considering that stunt in the closet. She never paid any attention to me until I became a baller. I knew who she was and what she was about, and I guess my behavior says more about me and who I was. I’m not that guy anymore.

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “I thought we’d hang out, get to know each other again this Christmas.”

“I’m kind of busy,” I say and move to the other side of the table to take a shot. I don’t need to lift my head to know she’s pissed off and glaring at me. I don’t want to hurt her feelings or anything, I’m not about that, but I can’t be with her. I’m not a cheater, even though Maize isn’t mine. Yet.

I glance at my watch, and put my cue back on the rack. “I have to run,” I say to Linc.

He nods. “Yeah, I do too.”

We say goodbye and walk outside together. “You okay?” I ask when we’re alone. “Did something happen with Steph?”

“Yeah, I gave her a diamond necklace for Christmas, and she gave me my walking papers.”

My heart lurches. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry.”

“I was totally fucking blindsided. Never saw it coming.” He gives a humorless laugh. “I guess you never do.”

My stomach clenches, because he’s right. No one ever sees a break-up coming. Shit, for all I know, this is the end for Maize and me. Christmas was our deadline, and I don’t want to stick to it. What does she want?

“How about you? You okay?” he asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

He puts his hand on my back. “Why don’t you go see her?”

I stare at him. “You think?”

“I know.”