Page 184 of Pride High 3: Yellow
They went downstairs together, following the sound of clinking glass to the kitchen, where his mother was emptying the dishwasher.
“Help is at hand!” Anthony declared, hurrying over to assist her.
“That’s very nice of you,” Brenda said.
“He’s just sucking up to his future mother-in-law,” Cameron joked when joining them. “Not that I’ve popped the question yet.”
“Most people wait until junior year,” Brenda said. “After they’ve knocked up their girlfriend at prom.”
“We keep trying,” Anthony said wistfully.
“Have you ever considered a surrogate?” Brenda asked before turning to wink at Cameron. She did a double-take. “Don’t you look nice!”
“Thanks,” he said.
“And so do you,” she said, reassessing Anthony, who was wearing long black shorts that ended just below the knee and a tight gray t-shirt that wasn’t torn up or covered in red stains. Which for him, was downright formal. “Do you have a big date tonight?”
“Big plans,” Cameron corrected. “Would you like to come with us?”
Brenda laughed, like he was being silly, but he kept his face serene. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Where are you going?”
He glanced at Anthony, who nodded and left the room. “To that support group I mentioned.”
Brenda searched his eyes before she turned away. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said.
She looked at him sharply. “I hope you haven’t been drinking!”
“How you feel right now,” he said quickly, “that worry… It’s how I feel all the time. About you.”
“You shouldn’t—” she began.
“But I do,” he interrupted. “I love you, Mom, but you can’t keep going this way. You’re just numbing the pain instead of dealing with it. I wish Dad was around more. I’m hurting too. But I won’t ruin my own life because of him. I’m worth more than that. And so are you.”
“Sweetheart,” Brenda said gently. “You don’t have to worry aboutanyof it. I’m fine.”
“You’re not! And I do worry. You don’t know what it’s like to come home and see you passed out on the couch. Or to find you there in the morning. It really upsets me. That’s why I’m going to this group tonight. I hope they’ll have some advice for me. I figure it can’t hurt. So why not?”
“I don’t want anyone to think that I’m—” Brenda began before she shook her head. “You’re probably going to say that admitting I have a problem is the first step.”
“I don’t know how it works,” Cameron told her. “But I guess I’ll find out at the group. And I figured even if you don’t want to go for yourself, that maybe you’d come to support me.”
His mother turned toward the kitchen counter and placed both her hands on it, as if to steady herself. He watched her think, praying that this would be the turning point.
“If he’s never coming back,” Cameron said, “then we’re going to need each other. More than ever.”
Brenda turned toward him. She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled, like she was proud of what she saw. Then she nodded.
— — —
Anthony was stretched out on his back. He took a deep breath so he could sigh in contentment. He considered opening his eyes, but then, he had no obligations. Most of his friends were working. Or had plans of their own. Cameron and Mr. Finnegan were helping to arrange the new antique shop, which from what he had heard, mostly involved Charles issuing orders while stretched out on a chaise lounge. He couldn’t wait to see it all for himself… once the heavy lifting was out of the way. The new store was just around the corner from Right Round Records, which made him happy, since it would be easier to visit Charles. Anthony had questions for him. About so many things.
His body sank before springing back up again. He opened his eyes to find Omar holding himself above Anthony. His best friend grinned like a little kid and said, “Wanna wrestle?”
Anthony fought down a smile. “Not in the way that you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking. I thought we could—”
