Page 86 of Dear Mr. Brody
“I know it’s not very Christ-like to say so, but his momma is an asshole, if you ask me. That boy is all light.” Her blue eyes sparkled as she stared at my friend. “It’s a shame, treating your blood that way.”
“He has you.”
“And you.” She handed me the plate. “Go make him smile, alright.”
Her chestnut hair was more gray than brown these days, her laugh lines more pronounced, but she looked the same to me. She was still the woman who’d given me everything. She was late nights when I couldn’t sleep, and warm milk. She was bandaged knees and tissues that wiped away tears. She was acceptance and love when I’d brought home a boy from school and told her I liked him better than girls. She was worry and hope when I left for the Air Force. She was heart and happiness, and a second mother to my friend who had none of the things I’d been lucky enough to have.
“You like him better than me,” I teased, and she swatted my arm.
“Well, when you say shit like that…”
“I told you she liked me better.” Marcos grinned at my mom as he took the plate out of my hand. “It’s okay, you can tell him, I’m much more fun.”
“Shut up and eat your cookies.” I gently smacked the back of his head, and he pinched my arm.
“You see how he treats me,” Marcos said around a mouth full of oatmeal and raisins. “At least now that he has a boyfriend I don’t have to—”
“Boyfriend?” Mom almost dropped the spatula in her hand. “Since when?”
“Shit.” Marcos cringed, but I could see the smile he’d failed to hide.
“Yeah… shit,” I said, giving him a murderous glare.
“Parker. What’s he talking about? You have a boyfriend?”
I sighed as I sat down at the kitchen table. What the fuck was I supposed to tell her?
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said and when she raised an eyebrow I added, “Technically.”
Her gaze bounced between Marcos and me. “What does that mean?”
“We’re dating, we haven’t labeled it. It’s only been about a month.”
“You never date anyone for a month. I mean, I have to say, I held hope you and Marcos one day…”
Marcos made a gagging sound and I kicked him under the table.
“Mom, he’s like my brother, that’s gross.”
“But dating your professor is just fine,” Marcos said under his breath and my eyes widened.
“Dating your what?” She was distracted, washing the cookie sheets, and I fucking hoped to God she hadn’t heard him. I didn’t feel like killing my best friend today.
“It’s nothing, Mom. If we get serious, I’ll let you know.”
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding when she nodded. “He must be special if you’ve kept him around this long. I love you, son, but you’re a bit of a player.”
I laughed openly and Marcos did too. “A player?” I asked. “Where did you hear that?”
“I’m not as naïve as you all like to think. You and your sister, both. If these walls could talk.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling.
“Oh…” Marcos dragged out the word. “Do tell, Mrs. Mills.”
“Mom,” I cut her off as she opened her mouth to speak, and she laughed. “Can we change the subject?”
“I’d like to meet this guy.” She pointed the spatula at me. “It would be nice for once.”
“Yeah, Mom… Like I said, if things work out.”