“Ahhhh!” he yelled, running to his room, leaving the echo of his sweet laugh in his wake. It was my very favorite sound in the world.
I walked past his room on the way to mine and peeked my head in to make sure he was indeed getting dressed. “Make sure you change your underwear, too. I’m going to go take a shower and get dressed. See you downstairs in fifteen.”
I walked across the hall to my bedroom and pulled out a pair of jeans, white undershirt, and a navy blue sweater to put on for the day. After I showered, I brushed my teeth before heading into my bedroom. While I was pulling out a pair of socks, a picture on my dresser of Andrew as a baby caught my eye. He was sitting in his mother’s lap and he was grinning his face off. He was only six months old and mostly toothless, except for those precious two front teeth at the top of his mouth. We’d taken it in a park in London while we were there on a half business and half vacation trip. Aldrich Music had taken me all over the world and I’d taken Andrew along for the ride. He was already a very well-traveled kid for a six-year-old.
Seeing that photo always did the same thing to me and today was no different. A familiar blend of anger and sadness itched beneath my skin and I looked away before it overtook me like it did some days.
After I brushed my hair, I headed downstairs, opting to skip shaving for the day.
I hadn’t realized what a terrible mistake that was until I saw my mother standing in my kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“How’d you get in here?” I mumbled, leaning around her to grab a coffee cup from behind her head.
I knew how she got in. I gave her the key, after all. I just hadn’t expected she’d use it so often.
I tried to hide my smile as I saw her back go ramrod straight and she eventually turned to face me so slowly, I knew I was in deep shit.
“And just who, pray tell, do you think you are talking to, my dear son?” She studied my face. “And what the hell is that mess all over your face?” Her accent was thick with her home state of Tennessee and at the moment, it was even sweeter than usual.
And the sweeter my mother’s southern twang was, the meaner she usually was and still I grinned my face off. I loved my crazy country momma.
Traveling all over the world and being married to a New Yorker for forty years of her life hadn’t changed her accent a bit. In fact, I found that it just became more so over the years. It seemed like she was hanging on to it for dear life.
I stared down at her and smiled. “You look nice today, Momma. Where you headed off to?”
With pink cheeks, she smoothed down the front of her well-fitting, probably made for her, white pantsuit. Her shoulder length brown hair was smoothed down and curled at the ends. Her white pearls sat at her neck as they always did. She smelled like her favorite perfume that my father bought her every Christmas until he passed away five years ago of a heart attack.
“I have a meeting downtown. Now, where’s my favorite boy?”
When she said she had a meeting downtown, what she really meant was that she had brunch with her lady friends.
My mother didn’t do much with the business anymore since my dad passed. That was all on me now. But I loved it. Music was something I’d been raised doing. My father had owned the largest musical instrument retailer in the world. We had locations all over the globe. And we didn’t just sell instruments. We played them. We knew them. We loved music in all of its forms. It was a business I’d been passionate about since I could remember.
Raising an eyebrow at her, I answered, “You’re looking at your favorite boy and don’t you forget it.” I opened the fridge to grab an apple out of the bottom drawer.
She tried not to smile, but the truth of it was, I was still a momma’s boy and my mother loved it that way. We were close. We had a fantastic relationship and she helped me all of the time with Andrew. I didn’t know what I would do without her. And she knew it. She was everything to us.
She took a sip of her coffee and smiled behind her mug. “No, come on, Whitaker. You know you’re my favorite man. I need my favorite boy.”
“Here I am, Grammy!” I heard Andrew shout from behind me.
He shot around me and barreled into the front of my momma’s legs so hard, I thought he was going to knock her over.
As he rubbed his face all over her white suit while she hugged him, I was praying like hell he’d gotten all of the toothpaste off his lips.
“I hope he isn’t getting toothpaste on your suit.”
My mother pulled him tighter to her. “Aw. What’s a little mess from my baby boy. It will give me an excuse to brag about him at lunch when all of my friends ask me about it.”
And that was my momma in a nutshell. Wonderful.
I laughed and shook my head while they continued hugging like they hadn’t seen each other in months, instead of just last night.
I rummaged through the fridge, knowing this apple wasn’t going to cut it, praying that the breakfast casserole she had brought over two days ago was still left. I was always praying for food. Because I was always starving. Since birth, according to my mother.
“There’s none left, Whit. You’re just going to have to take my baby out this morning,” my mother said.
“Ohh, we can go get pancakes! Grammy can come, too!” Andrew jumped up and down next to her.
She ruffled the top of his hair. “Not today, baby. I have a brunch meeting.”
“Tell your friends I said hi!” Andrew yelled on his way out of the room. Even he knew meetings meant brunch with friends.
“Go put some socks and shoes on!” I yelled across our large Manhattan home.
My mother puttered around the kitchen, moving the coffee pot to where it went in the corner of my white marble countertops. She then puttered over to the fridge, looking around at the mostly empty freezer.
And I knew what was coming. She did this at least once a week. This puttering. It was to prove a point. It was also the lead-up to every argument we’d ever had.
“This place sure could use a woman’s touch,” she said softly, like the comment wasn’t meant for me but was just her saying it in passing.
But it wasn’t. She wanted me to hear it. And I did. All too frequently.
“Not today, Mom. I’m going to Graham’s so Andrew can play. I don’t have time for this.”
Her hopeful eyes turned to mine. “Well, maybe Graham has someone he could set you up with.”
I grabbed a banana off the counter and peeled it, holding the apple in my hand to take with me like a Neanderthal. “Jesus, Mom. I don’t want to be set up. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you.”
I walked out of the kitchen to the front of the house where my keys were, wolfing down my banana in three bites. I needed to get the hell out of here.
She followed right behind me. “Don’t you think that you need someone? Don’t you think that Andrew needs a mother figure?”
I could hear the distress in her voice. It killed me that she worried about us, but we were doing just fine on our own. “You don’t think I’m doing a good job?” I asked, already regretting my words. I didn’t like to make my mother feel bad and I knew that was exactly all I was doing.
“You know that I think you’re an amazing father, Whit. I just want what’s best for both of my boys. You need someone. It’s time.” Her worried eyes tugged at my heart. It was time. But the truth was, I wasn’t interested in bringing some woman into our lives who I couldn’t guarantee would stick around. Andrew was the most important thing in the world to me. I’d never let a woman toy with his heart. Not at his tender age. Not ever, really.