“Of course I would. You’re my son, Brody! I am so proud of you.”
Standing up straight, I look her dead in the eye. “What are you proud of me for?”
“What do you mean?”
“Test the washer so we know it’s working before I leave,” I demand then ask again, “What, exactly are you proud of me for?”
She loads clothes and detergent in the washer then starts it up. It appears to be working fine which means I can leave.
“Well, for… your job. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
I roll my eyes because she’s hedging around her truth. “It’s the same job I’ve had for years, Ma.”
“But now…”
I interrupt her with a shake of my head and irritated huff. “I’m making a lot more money at it and meeting celebrities? Yeah. I understand you.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Sure it is.” Then it clicks with me. The whole production of her crying on my shoulder earlier. It seemed weird to me that she suddenly felt remorse after all these years. “That’s what the whole “I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment and I need to get help” bit was about, wasn’t it? You wanted to make amends or get on my good side so I would introduce you to some Nashville star or give you money.”
“What? No!”
I grab my toolbox and walk out of the laundry room, through the kitchen. It might make me a chauvinist, but just once I would like to come to my mother’s house and have her feed me homemade cookies or brownies. Or anything, really. To take care of me in any way. Instead, she’s always selfishly asking for me to bring her things. “Sure it is. Here’s what you need to know, Ma. Me customizing these vehicles? That’s all it is. It’s the same thing I’ve been doing for years. I’ve been hired to do a job, plain and simple.”
“You’re mad at me. Why? I’m only telling you that I’m happy for you,” she protests.
“I’m not mad, Ma. Just… unsurprised, which I suppose makes me mad. This job? It’s just a job. Yeah, I’m happy that I get to work with some pretty cool people and that doing what I love has increased my checking and savings accounts, but it’s not the point!” I shout. “Money isn’t everything, Ma.”
She turns her head and looks at me with pity. “After you and Hannah broke up, I thought you’d have such a hard time and I’m happy to see that you’re doing well.”
My mouth drops open. Is she delusional? What the heck does Hannah have to do with anything? “What the heck does Hannah have to do with anything, Ma?!”
“She was…”
“She is my ex-girlfriend. She’s married. I’ve not been harboring feelings for her all these years. She’s in my rearview mirror, Ma.”
She looks truly confused. “But… isn’t that why you went after this big contract?”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious? I wasn’t the one who went after anything. They came to me.”
“But she said…”
“Oh my gosh. Ma! Are you telling me that you talked to Hannah?”
“She’s the one who told me about the new shop,” she admits with a small shrug.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Explain.”
“We have lunch sometimes,” comes her explanation, albeit a bad one.
“Please don’t. I have no idea why you think you need to stay in contact with an ex-girlfriend of mine, but I’d honestly rather you didn’t. I know I just now told you about Katie but she and I are not just a phase. I like her. A lot.”
“But, you used to like Hannah a lot, too.”
I don’t even know what to say here so I just turn to the door. “I don’t have any feelings for Hannah. In fact, I haven’t thought about her for months. Whatever she’s told you, figure she was lying. You and she are obviously cut from the same selfish cloth.” Before walking through it, I turn to my mother. Open my mouth to plead my case against Hannah more but I can tell she’s not even paying attention to me. “Just… forget it. My words won’t mean a thing to you anyway, right?”
I leave her house and climb into my truck. She doesn’t try to stop me.