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"Hey, Mom." Brent said as his mom answered the phone.
"Oh, hi honey." Mom said once she heard Brent's voice. "What are you up to today?" She asked cheerfully. He sat in the lounge chair, in the living room and stared out the front window at the street and the cars that passed by.
"Nothing. Just sitting here, thinking." He sounded a little down in the dumps, Mom noticed it right away.
"What are you thinking about sweetie?" She asked setting the laundry aside and heading for a chair.
"I want to plan a wedding and I don't know the first thing about it."
"You are planning the wedding? Don't you think you should get together with Andrea on it?" He shook his head.
"I want it to be a surprise. I don't want to have the wedding here or Tennessee or Pennsylvania -- I want to take her on a trip, somewhere warm, sunny, maybe a white sand beach and blue skies ..." Mom smiled.
"That sounds absolutely romantic, Brent." He moved his eyes around looking here and there, not turning his head.
"How about something like the Bahamas, how easy is it to get married there?"
"I'm sure it's easy anywhere, you just have to make sure you have the right paperwork. When were you thinking of having this wedding?" Brent covered his eyes with his free hand.
"Soon. Like next month. Before I have to go away to record the new album." He still sounded down to her. Something was wrong and he just didn't want to tell her ....
"Brent, what is wrong? You try to hide it from me and I know you all too well. Now spill ..." He swallowed a lump in his throat. How he wished he could tell her, he wished he could tell someone! Maybe it would be a load off his chest -- but he couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone ... not even Craig.
"Mom, I just feel a little at odds today. That's all. And I thought if I could do something special for myself and Andrea that I would feel better." Mom sighed.
"Is Andrea okay? You two didn't have a fight, did you?" He shook his head and tightened his grip on his eyes.
"No, Mom, we didn't fight. She's wonderful. She's starting to get a belly and it's pretty neat." He heard his Mom laugh softly.
"That's cute! It won't be long now dear, and then everyone will be calling you 'Dad'." He smiled bleakly. He didn't even know why he felt like he should marry Andrea. He didn't see the relationship lasting very long at all. He couldn't change, he couldn't conform to being a one-woman, non-smoking, house-husband and father. He tried and failed. He hated himself.
"Yeah, not long now." Brent said quietly, a little choked up.
"You're scared, aren't you?" Mom asked.
"Yeah, I am."
"Well, you know Dad and I are here for you, honey. It isn't as hard as people like to say it is. Babies sleep a lot the first month or so and then the fun starts -- and I don't mean fun like 'bad' fun but 'good' fun! They look at you, know who you are and love you whether you're a jerk or not. You get my meaning Brent?" Mom said as if she knew he was discouraged. It was kind of spooky how she instinctively knew sometimes what he was thinking or feeling. He wondered if all parents had that sort of 'sixth' sense.
"Yes, Mom. I get it. I just don't know if I can do this, you know?" She knew it was something! Now it would come out ....
"All parents-to-be feel that self-doubt. Babies don't come with a book of instructions and you never, ever know whether or not you're a good parent or a bad parent -- even when your children are grown. You just do your best and hope they turn out right." She sounded as if she had said it a million times ... It was comforting to him. "Just like you and Craig. Dad and I just did what we thought was best, tried to teach you right from wrong, set you free and crossed our fingers. I think you turned out all right." He rolled his eyes. If she only knew ....
"Yeah. I guess. I just don't know ... There's just something I am so unsure about."
"You are afraid of commitment Brent. You always have been. The only thing you're absolutely committed to is your music. And, that, in itself is admirable. All you can do, dear, is try." He wished she was closer. He wished he could be having this conversation with her in the living room of his old house, and he could hug her and hold her close. He crossed his free arm over his chest and hugged.
"I will, Mom. I will try. I know Andrea can't do it alone, and I wouldn't make her."
"You're a good boy, Brent. I love you." He smiled to himself.
"I love you, too, Mom." They hung up a short time later. Brent sat in the chair, staring out at nothing. He watched the sky change from sunny blue to hues of yellow and orange tinged with red as the sun went down and set the sky on fire. He felt like his soul was on fire. If you could see your soul in color he was sure it would reflect the colors of the twilight sky. He got up and paced the house a while. As he moved from the bedroom then down the hall to the guest room and back out into the living room he suddenly noticed that Rory was following him around like a dog. He turned and looked at the cat. Rory, seeing he'd gotten Brent's attention, put his head down and moved forward bumping into his legs. Brent bent down and scratched his head and then his chin.
"You are a good friend, kitty." He said to Rory. "Are you a good audience too?" He asked as Rory flopped over onto his side and exposed his belly. Brent scratched it. "I'm gonna play the guitar ..." He left the cat lay there and retrieved his guitar from the guest room. He sat down on the floor next to the couch and did some finger exercises to warm up, then he strummed. He had only played a short while before the phone rang again. He looked around for it and seeing he'd left it by the chair, set down the guitar and went for the phone. It was Andrea. He sat back down on the floor next to his guitar.
"Whatcha doing?" She asked.
"Just sitting here, playing my guitar." He said.
"Ohhh, I wish I was there." She said, longing.
"I wish you were here too." He said, meaning it. He heard talking in the background and Andrea talking back to whomever was talking to her. She put her hand over the mouthpiece, talked again and then came back to the phone.
"Sorry. Damned doctors." She muttered. He cleared his throat.
"Listen, don't talk bad about doctors in front of me. A couple of them saved my damn life not too long ago." He heard her giggle. "Oh! And a nurse." He added.
"Well, this is true." She said. He missed her. He needed her. He wanted her.
"Hey, baby ..." He began.
"Yeah?" She asked.
"I was thinking that right before I have to go back into the studio, you and I could get away for a week. You know, take a trip, fly somewhere ..."
"Oooooo .... " She said, excited. "I'm liking that idea!" He smiled, hearing how happy she was.
"Great! I've already got some ideas ..." He heard someone talking to her again in the background.
"Brent, I'm sorry, I've got to go. I'll call you later, okay?" He sighed. He didn't want her to go, talking to her made him feel less lonely.
"Okay. Later." He said and they hung up. He sat there a few more minutes before picking up the guitar and continuing to play. He played a couple of hours before going into the kitchen to scrounge for food. He made a sandwich and sat back down on the floor in front of the couch. He flipped on the TV and stared at it, not seeing while he ate. After he finished eating he leaned his head back onto the seat of the couch and fell asleep. When he woke sometime later he picked up his head and his neck ached from the position he was in for so long. He rubbed it and looked at his watch. It was after 8. He picked up the phone and called the hospital. A nurse answered.
"Surgical, this is Kelly."
"Kelly, hi, this is Brent. Is Andrea around?" He asked, picking crumbs from his sandwich off his sweats.
"No, Brent, she left about a half hour ago." He frowned. She didn't tell him she was leaving early.
"Oh," He said trying not to sound surprised. "Okay, thanks." He said and hung up. He got up and looked out the window. If she left that long ago she should have been home by now. He looked down the street and saw only darkness and colored lights from the houses that were decorated gaily for Christmas. He frowned and huffed. "Hmph." He said. He left the window and sat back down. He pulled the guitar back into his lap and strummed. He got back up a short time later and looked out the window. Nothing had changed. He moved back into the room and planted his hands on his hips. Where was she? He moved from room to room again, nervously pacing. He tried her cell phone and got only voice mail. Well, what the fuck? He felt himself becoming angry. Why would she leave early and not tell me? His suspicious mind went to work ... He got undressed at 9 and got into bed to wait for her. He sat up against the head of the bed, pillows tucked behind him. He flipped through a magazine absently, not even seeing the pages. Finally at 10:15 he heard the front door open. He slid down into the bed. Andrea appeared in the room a short time later. She eyed him in the bed.
"You still up?" She asked quietly slipping out of her scrub pants. He watched her, anxious.
"Yeah, I'm up." He sat back up. "How was work? Busy?" He asked. She grabbed an oversized t-shirt out of her drawer and pulled it over her head. She nodded.
"Hell, yeah." She said heading into the bathroom.
"Yeah, I figured because you didn't call back." Andrea stood in front of the sink, she held the toothbrush still in her mouth and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes opened wide. Fuck! She thought. She'd forgotten to call him back before she left! She finished brushing her teeth before she answered.
"I'm sorry, honey. We were very busy." She said before washing her face and coming back into the bedroom. He lay in bed, his arms behind his head, his fingers laced together. He looked a little angry.
"Yeah, I know you were." He said tightly. She slid into bed next to him. He didn't move. She moved closer to him and ran her hands up his chest. He looked down at her.
"I am sorry ... " She said apologetically. He nodded.
"I'm sure." He said softly. She ran her hand down from his chest to his stomach and stuck her finger into his belly button. He reached down and pulled her hand away.
"Want to make love?" She asked putting her hand back on his stomach and moving down. He slid down onto the bed, kissed her mouth briefly and then rolled over onto his side away from her.
"Nope." He said. "I'm tired and I want to go to sleep." He said with a sigh. She just looked at the back of his head a moment as he lay there and then flopped over onto her back. She sighed and closed her eyes. She felt bad for not calling him back and obviously it had bothered him. I will make up for it tomorrow ... she thought and fell asleep.
