Jayson: A New Adult / Coming of Age Romance (8 page)

“
I
t’s not too
bad today, Jay. You don’t have to hover around me like I’m a toddler. I can walk,” says Momma.

I step back with a rueful smile, knowing she’s too independent to easily accept my help, but she needs it. Sabine Zephyr slowly pushes up from the bed of my guestroom—her room now—with a minor grimace and a grunt, leveraging herself to her feet by gripping the guardrails on the side of her bed. She stands in her pink chenille housecoat on wobbly legs, and I can’t help lunging forward to make sure she doesn’t fall. “Now, what did I say?” she reminds me sternly. Her dark hair falls around her pretty, angular face, and her eyes, so like mine, flash golden irritation.

“Yes, ma’am, I know you got it, Momma. I’m here for support, though. Put your arm around my shoulder and let me take you to the living room with the rest of the boys.”

“Slow going. One step at a time,” she cautions me.

The few paces take an eon, but I don’t mind how long it takes. She has been doing physical therapy regularly and seeing an orthopedist since her lumbar disc surgery, but this is the first time in quite a while that I’ve seen her up and about. “You’re gonna love the commercial, Momma,” I whisper excitedly. I look through the open door at my younger brothers taking up space in my living room, awaiting the screening of the television advertisement we put together for Zephyr Brothers Construction. Ashby has his textbook across his lap at the kitchen counter, yawning and struggling to keep his eyes open while Dev plays with his phone on the edge of one of the living room chairs. I hope he’s not on Tinder again. As usual, Castiel chatters inanely, pacing the living room.

In a lot of ways, not much has changed since we were unruly teenagers sprawled around the cramped apartment in Tenderloin while Momma was at work on her second job after we got home from school. That was when we learned that we had to get along because we had no parent to break up fights—and Momma coming home to one of us with bruises, one with a black eye only had to happen once. The look on her face was enough to make us learn how to share a television and stop picking on each other. I’ve always said she should bottle it.

I ease my mother down on the suede sofa, aware of how small she seems now that I’m grown. I can still remember the day, in 7
^th
grade, when I realized I was taller. “Cue up the TV, Cast.” The second-born grabs the remote off the coffee table and hits play. “I want to say in advance that I look hokey in this, so don’t laugh,” I warn. “The rest of you look just as dumb.”

Ashby grins, putting down his electronic tablet. “I won’t laugh.”

“Hey, I happen to look good in a tool belt, so the ladies tell me,” says Devon. I fire a finger gun at him. Someday one of those ‘ladies’ is going to win his heart, and won’t he be surprised. The thirty-second commercial set to begin airing in a few days comes on and everybody hushes. It’s just what we need to get the word out about the family business. On the screen I stand in front of a project site wearing a hard hat, holding blueprints, a pencil tucked in my mouth. The homeowners stand nearby giving a happy testimonial. These are actual customers, not actors. Mr. and Mrs. Greenberg wanted to help and they did a great job of looking both super-normal and totally memorable. He’s got a paunch and a little beard and she’s wearing an old-fashioned flowered dress that accentuates her broad hips. Kind of like a cross between hipsters and hamsters—in a good way, I mean. Behind me, Cast and Dev are working on the building. The camera lingers on their muscles, then the scene cuts to our headquarters where the three of us brothers stand outside with arms crossed.

“Call or click for Zephyr Brothers when you need residential construction and leave the building to us. We can make it home!” I say from the TV. The scene fades to black and that’s it.

“That was lovely!” Momma chortles. “Play it back again.”

“Ah, Momma, we had to film that thirty times for Jayson to get his one line right. Don’t make us watch it again,” Castiel whines. Momma giggles, wincing at the movement. I look to her with concern.

“Don’t do too much, now,” I tell her.

“Oh, stop it. I’m so proud of my boys.”

“Soon as I finish this degree, I’ll be with them, Momma.”

“Ashby, I’m proud of you, too. You’re doing a great job in school. Gosh, I feel like I’m missing watching all of you grow up, cooped up in that room. I’m glad to be out.”

“You’re sure you’re not in pain?”

“Well, if I was, what could you do about it?” she answers me with a saucy grin.

“I’d put you in time out,” I chuckle. “You haven’t missed anything with us. Devon is still running around with loose women. Castiel’s trying to follow in his footsteps—with little success, I might add. Ashby is doing what he’s supposed to be doing in school, and I’m working my butt off trying to keep ‘em in line. The usual.”

Momma grins. Castiel pipes up, “Don’t let him fool you, Momma. Jayson’s got a girlfriend now.” He nods his head knowingly, smiling like a joker.

“Is that so?” she asks. I roll my eyes and shake my head, lamenting the fact Devon and Cast were with me when Kit and I hung out at the nightclub.

“She’s a cute one this time, too. We’re working on her house for her, and Jayson—.”

“Boy, mind your own,” I shout him down, laughing. All his life, I’ve had to deal with his teasing. I’ll be glad when he gets serious about somebody so I can return the favor, but Castiel has no business getting Momma’s hopes up. I know she wants me to settle down with a loyal, adoring wife who’ll start popping out grandchildren. That’s not in the cards for me, especially not with someone like Kitrina Schneider.

Momma dismisses my protests. “Quiet, Jayson. I want to hear this.”

Castiel snickers next to Devon, who’s quirking a brow and hiding a smile. Mom looks from the two of them to me. “Well, who is she, Jay?”

I sigh good-naturedly, shooting daggers at Cast with my eyes. “There’s nothing going on between me and Kitrina Schneider, Momma. She’s a sweet girl, but she’s too young for me.”

“Last I checked she was a sophomore in college,” Devon replies softly.

“How’d you even find that out? You’ve never even met her,” I point out in surprise.

“I have my ways.” He grins.

“She’s too young and immature for any type of serious relationship, and I’m not looking for anything serious anyway. So…” I shrug.

Mom replies, “You’re twenty-four, you wizened old sage, you. Seriously, you’re not too far off from 'young and immature' yourself.”

“Momma!”

“What? Everybody starts out young and immature. People have to live a little, get some life experiences. Come to think of it…you do, too!” She points to me, and I hold my chest at her mock disapproving stare.

“What?” I ask, smiling nervously.

“You need to, Jay. You’re not immature, mind you. I’m very proud of how responsible you are. But you certainly don’t open yourself to experiencing much of life. You can’t possibly, with all the working and lurking over these boys’ shoulders you do.”

“Tell him, Momma,” Castiel crows, hooting. Devon chuckles, and even Ashby snickers. I feel outnumbered.

“Now, hey, now—when did this become a bash Jayson day?”

“I’m not bashing you,” Momma softens. She reaches for my hand, and I take her warm, dry fingers in mine. She tilts her head to the side and studies me. “I just think you need to stop living vicariously through your brothers and do some living of your own. You’re well-established now, and you’ve helped with the kiddos long enough, so working yourself into an early grave on their behalf, or mine, isn’t at all what I want you to do. Life ain’t all about money anyway. It’s time you start focusing on yourself and what you want….You like this girl? I can tell you like this girl. Every time she’s mentioned, you don’t even notice, but you start to smile.”

I find myself smiling and shake my head to negate her claim, but she’s right. “Tell you what, Momma, if it makes you happy, I’ll start living a little. That’s all I can promise. Just because I like her doesn’t mean she likes me back. Can we change the subject now? Thanksgiving is at the end of this month. I was thinking each of us boys can bring a dish over here and do dinner at my place.”

“Have mercy, the four of you cooking!”

The conversation devolves into laughter at the potentially disastrous prospect of our culinary failings, and I sit back, enjoying my family’s company, but I’m thinking about Kit. She called me last night asking me if she could move in to the house in Western Addition. I suspected she had run into trouble with her mother when she got home late, which I regret. It was my fault. If we hadn’t gotten caught up in each other, dancing…kissing….

“About this commercial,” Mom interjects. “When will it be airing so I can let my friends know to look out for it?”

I drag my attention back. “By the end of the week, it’ll be airing through the local cable network. Plus, we’ve got it up on our website,” I reply. “I expect business to pick up in a big way. I’ve hired some new laborers and new office staff in anticipation of that.”

There’s no point in prying into Kit’s personal life. Like I told Mom, just because I like her doesn’t mean she’s interested in me. Kit made it pretty clear the other night at the club that I’m not the sort of guy she can bring home to her mother. I can’t stop wondering if the rules will change with her moving out. What will it mean for me?

“
O
pen up
, Kit! I know you’re in there!” The pounding at the door startles me out of my pity party, echoing through the empty house and bringing me back to my senses. At the sound of the familiar voice, I step out of the nearly finished guestroom I’d been surveying.

“Is that you, Grace? Just a minute!” I sniff hard and dash the telltale tears from my face, hoping my eyes aren’t as red as they feel as I move across the main living area of my new house to open the front door. I don’t want her to see I’ve been bawling my eyes out. This is supposed to be my dream come true, being out on my own. Yet all I’ve experienced so far is crippling fear of what might come next.

I swing open the door, stand there trying to look confident with a smile on my quivering lips. Grace pushes her shades up to her auburn hair and squints at me with dark brown eyes. “Girl, what happened? I got this bad feeling and called your house looking for you, and your mom said you moved out. Tell me you guys didn’t get into it about you arriving home late.”

“I wish I could, but you know Candace. That was a punishable offense in her book. Come on in. Make yourself at home. Sit wherever you like.”

“Kind of hard to do without any furniture,” Grace says with a gentle laugh. She eyes the pile of blankets in the corner of the living room that I slept on the night before, too nervous to sleep upstairs by myself in case somebody tried to break in. I have no security system, and this isn’t a gated neighborhood. It’s not a bad neighborhood, just not what I’m used to. Grace drags me into a hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” Her brown arms close around my narrow shoulders, and I squeeze her back.

At that moment, the dam breaks and I start crying again. “It’s horrible, Grace. I walked in here last night thinking I had everything under control…until I got up this morning to take a shower and realized I didn’t have any soap or towels or anything. Not even toilet paper,” I wail.

Grace rubs my back, giggling. “You make it sound like all the toilet paper in the world is out. Luckily, I brought you a care package.” She pulls back and scans my face, and I feel a little ridiculous for blubbering. I swipe my eyes. “Come with me to my car,” she says. “I got you some stuff to make the move-in a little easier since I could tell from your mom’s tone that you didn’t leave on good terms.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to, Grace.” I peek through the open door at her car parked behind mine on the curbside in front of my place.

“I figured you were without some essentials. But, Kit, look at the bright side! There are endless possibilities ahead for you. I can see you decorating this place to the max! Candace won’t be able to control your every move any more. I know it’s scary, homie, but we’ve got this. I’m right by your side.”

“Thanks, chica-boom,” I mutter, drifting out the door to her car with her. Grace pops the trunk of her sedan to reveal bags of stuff for me: soap, tissue, toothpaste and other personal-size hygiene items. There are cleaning supplies. She even thought to pick up snack food. I squeal in delight at the sight of it.

“I knew the only cure for a shitty night was cheese curls. I bought the big bag.”

“You’re a life saver. I so love you right now.”

“Speaking of love,” Grace says in a sing-song voice. I roll my eyes, knowing exactly where she’s heading with the rejoinder. I grab up a handful of bags, and she takes the other, slamming the trunk closed. I notice a neighbor next door and wave, but the elderly woman doesn’t wave back. I shrug.

“Uh-uh, not speaking of love,” I say to Grace. “Right now all I want to do is eat junk and rant.” We head back into my house and spread my blanket from last night over the middle of the floor. Grace busts open the bag, and I tear paper towels from the roll she brought over. “You know she had the nerve to tell me I wouldn’t make it? I was so mad last night. It took everything in me to keep cool and just pack my bags.” The first cheese curl crunches between my teeth, and my eyes flutter shut at the overly cheesy flavor. I lick my fingertips, groaning in pleasure. I didn’t realize I was so hungry, but without a microwave or any groceries, I skipped breakfast.

“What happened, Kit? I mean, you guys fight a lot, but it’s never gone this far.”

“She was talking about Jayson like he was some kind of bum.”

“Pushed some buttons, did she?” Grace asks with a grin. She tosses me a bottled water, and I take a sip.

“Admittedly, she ruffled some feathers, but it was the principle of the matter, Grace. I come from a very privileged background financially. That makes it all the more important for me to recognize the advantages I’ve had over others like Jayson. It’s clear he’s not Ivy League material, the type of guy Mom seems to think I should be panting after, but that doesn’t mean he’s less of a man. He’s smart and focused. I can’t stand when she gets all high and mighty like that.”

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your mom said something about the future Mr. Zephyr-Schneider, and you freaked out and packed up?
That
was the straw that broke the camel’s back?”

“Ugh! You’re not helping, Grace,” I chuckle. Marriage? In a decade maybe.

Grace belly laughs, rolling back on the floor and sitting back up with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. “I’ve been trying to convince you to move out forever. I should be stung by how easy it was for Jayson to get you to go through with it, but I’m not. Jayson Zephyr is amazing! I totally get why you’d snip the umbilical cord for him. It’s about damn time, too.”

“I’d feel so much better about the move if I didn’t think Mom was right to some degree. I have to find an apartment since this place has to sell so I can pay Mom back for the renovation expenses.”

“Wait a minute, you’re not staying here?”

“Nope.” Grace looks like she doesn’t approve, but I don’t have a choice. I’ve already made plans to sell. Mom’s expecting me to follow through. “I still have money in my savings from my long defunct acting career, but that won’t last forever. The fact of the matter is, if I want to pay my mortgage, my rent and all my bills without her help, I’m going to have to take on more hours at Devil in the Details, which could very well compromise my grades. You might think it was Jayson who got me to move out, but the truth is I now have even less time for romance than I had before. It’s time for me to focus on my needs…not my wants.”

“So you admit you want him.”

“You saw him with his shirt off! Who wouldn’t?” I think back to yesterday evening when Grace and I stopped by to see if Jayson was here, and he was in the downstairs guestroom shirtless, trying to draw my attention to the wallpaper he picked out. Sweet merciful lord, it took willpower not to simply stare at the wall of his chest. I peer into my chip bag, wondering how I got through it so fast. Grace continues munching on a bag of her own.

“Personally, I’m kind of partial to his brother Cast. Those are some sexy men. Alright, let’s talk game plan. I think you can squeeze in a few more hours at Devil in the Details without taking away from your study time too much, but what you need to do first is put together a budget to get a clear picture of your month-to-month expenses. I can help you with that. It pays to have a degree in finance, and my father made sure I had budgeting mastered before letting me come all the way out here. Got a notebook?”

Suddenly the lone adventure feels like a shared journey, and I gaze appreciatively at my best friend. What would I do without her?

Grace and I puzzle over the particulars, which include me making a ton of phone calls to my service and utility providers to pin down approximations of my expenses. By the time we’re done, I stare at the numbers scribbled in the notebook with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Grace seems more confident about the future than I do. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she assures me. “The cool thing about bills is that they don’t roll in all at once…well, the rent and mortgage might.”

“I have to succeed at this. If every other grown-up can do this, I know I can.”

“That’s the spirit. You know what will put you in a better mood? We should do a walk-through and you can tell me what you plan to do with each of the rooms. Even if you’re not keeping it, that doesn’t mean you don’t get to leave your mark.”

“Ooh, that is the big plus. I spent most of the morning doing exactly that. So, the bedroom downstairs has been my focal point. It’s the closest to finished.”

“Jayson said you’ll be in here before Christmas. I’m sure you won’t have found an apartment by then. That’s only a few weeks away. I’d love to do Christmas at your place since I’m not going home this year, even if we just do something small together. I’m sure you and your mom will have mended the bridge by then.”

“Let’s hope so. She annoys me, but I love her.”

“She loves you, too,” Grace says firmly. I’ve never met my friend’s parents but they must be good people. Grace is a little scared of my mom but she has a bedrock faith in parental love.

Grace and I move through the house, floating on a cloud of idealism, discussing ideas for the décor, and it feels more and more like home with every step. I can see the rooms taking shape in my mind’s eye. Like I said to Professor Schwartz, this will be the perfect opportunity to put my interior design skills to great use. As a sophomore on an accelerated track to graduate early, the hands-on experience is invaluable.

“I want something really bohemian for my room,” I mention.

“You and I should go shopping soon and furnish this place out. What say you? Thrift stores?”

“Ah, I wanted to get some pieces from Devil in the Details,” I pout.

“You’ve seen those prices. I don’t think you can afford it, Kit.”

I think back to the budget we set, and I get angry all over again. “Why does my mom have to be so difficult?”

“Don’t think like that, hon. Mommy can’t pay your way through life. Besides, any project you work on for a client will come with a budget. We can’t go crazy, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go stylish. Now, I have to get along to work in a few hours, but I still have some errands to run. Do you need anything? I don’t think I’ll make it back over here until after school Monday.”

“I’m fine, Grace. I’ll run out if I need anything. I guess I better get used to doing things on my own.”

I watch her leave, and I try to keep my spirits up as she drives away. Closing and locking the front door, I return to my musings from before her arrival. I wasn’t fudging when I told her Jayson had to stay out of the picture for me to focus on getting my life together, but that doesn’t mean I like it. I run a hand over the phone in my back pocket, wishing I could call him. Alone with my thoughts, one quickly springs to mind: I wonder what it would be like if I did have the time for love?

“For starters, let’s get this place cleaned up,” I murmur to myself, scurrying away from dangerous fantasies. Time to stop idling. I run through the bottom level of my house where the worst of the damage is, folding up my blankets and sweeping, dusting, cleaning the kitchen appliances. When the busy work is finished, I stare at the space on the kitchen counter where I figure I’ll put my microwave when I get one. “What’s stopping me from doing that now?”

I don't have a pot or pan to my name, and cooking has never been my forte. That’s Mom’s thing. I decide to grab my keys and take the bumblebee-yellow Fiat out for a spin to pick up some other things I need to make living in my new place comfortable. “I can do this,” I say. I continue to tell myself that as I walk through the department store, scanning the prices and comparing before settling on a low budget microwave and cheap pots and pans. I continue to affirm myself when I get back home and realize I forgot to get towels while I was out, but it's getting harder to believe.

I read since I don’t have a television set yet, and I study when it gets hard to follow the novel’s storyline. A whole day passes that I end up feeling like I wasted trying to fill the hours with things to do so I don’t get bored and lonely. “Gosh, how do people do this?” I go to sleep, feeling like things could’ve been worse. I could be over in Pacific Heights with Candace, not talking to anyone because my mom and I simply can’t get along. I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. Tomorrow’s another day to conquer. Failure is not an option. “I can do this,” I whisper as I fall asleep…

The dream fades to darkness right in the middle of me trying to answer. I’m not sure at all what comes next.