She nodded. And then she turned away and got into her car. I leaned up against my driver’s side door, sipping my coffee as she pulled away.
Going back to my place, I showered and dressed. My mother wanted me to attend a few meetings, but when I finished with that, I planned to spend the rest of my night drunk on Jonathan’s father’s yacht.
The day flew by in a mix of phone calls about charity events and real estate talk. I knew what I was doing, but it was not what I wanted to do with my life. Honestly, I had never taken the time to think about the things I desired. It was always about what my mother required.
When I wasn’t thinking about what everyone else wanted, I was thinking about what people needed. When my father was alive, he donated his time and money to a lot of charities I continued to take care of in his stead. Charities like Charleston’s Children, a program for underprivileged kids in the area. It wasn’t as glitzy as the charity events and balls my mother threw, but it was more gratifying.
That’s what I want to do with my life, I thought. Gratifying things. Things to make the world a better place. My mother didn’t understand that. She did things for show, for the praise. It was always about who was watching when she did good deeds, and I hated that about her. My dad was the opposite, and I knew once the reins were handed over to me, I would turn things back around to the way they were when he was alive.
Once I finished the work stuff, I hauled ass toward the coast and found myself enjoying the sun and Charleston breeze on the top deck of Jonathan’s father’s yacht. It wasn’t boating season anymore, so we lounged in comfortable clothes around a gas flamed fireplace Jonathan’s father had installed the week before.
We were keeping close to the shoreline, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon. It was beautiful, and I should have been focusing on the splendor surrounding me, but I wasn’t.
Shannon.
She was all I could think about.
Picking up my cell, I typed in a message to her and stuffed my phone back in my pocket.
Me: Thinking about you.
As soon as I put my phone away, it buzzed with a response.
Red: Thinking about you too.
I grinned down at my phone before shoving it back in my pocket.
“Looks to me like whoever she is, she has her hooks in you,” Jonathan said.
I couldn’t see his eyes behind his shades, but I could tell he was looking at me. A smirk on his face.
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure, it’s not.”
I supposed if anyone knew me best, it was him.
That night, I forgot about my phone and drank with my friends. I didn’t flirt with the women, and when one of them tried to shower me with her attention, I made up an excuse to get away.
It wasn’t until almost one in the morning when I finally gave up on having a good time without Shannon and went back to my place. Instead of climbing the stairs to my room and falling asleep on my eight-thousand-dollar mattress, I kicked my shoes off by the front door and crashed on the couch where Shannon had slept the night before.
The blanket I used still smelled like her, and I fell asleep with a grin on my face thinking of being wrapped in her softness.
WE TEXTED FROM THE TIME WE WOKE UP until the time we climbed into bed the following day. She was at work while I was clocking my community service hours at Twin Oaks.
Once I finished at Twin Oaks, I stopped by my mother’s house.
It wasn’t much different from my place, a bit larger and decorated in darker colors. The only difference was my mother had acreage, while I had a small lot closer to the water.
“Is my mother around?” I asked Charlotte, my mother’s maid.
She was younger, her pitch black hair pulled tightly into a severe bun.
“In her office,” she answered, dusting the front entrance table.
My shoes squeaked over the expensive marble flooring, my mother deciding it was nicer than the original hardwood floors beneath.
She was sitting behind her massive desk, her face down as she scribbled something on a sheet of paper with one hand while holding a small crystal glass with what I knew was vodka in the other.
“Starting a bit early, aren’t we?” I asked, moving into her space and falling onto the chaise lounge in the corner.
She peeked up over her designer glasses before looking back down at her work.
“What is it, Matthew? Want to buy another hundred-thousand-dollar car?”
She wasn’t stupid. She knew the only reason I’d blown that kind of money on my Tesla was to piss her off.
“Of course not, Mother. Now, a yacht like Mitchell’s? That would be nice.”
She knew the floorplan of Mitchell’s yacht by heart. I remember the moment Jonathan and I realized my mother was fucking his dad. It was disgusting, but I didn’t give a shit who she fucked. That didn’t keep me from rubbing it in her face that I knew, though.
She pulled her glasses from the bridge of her nose and set them on her desk.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing community service or something?”
I chuckled. “Actually, today was my last day. I think I’ll keep volunteering, though. The people there are nice.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose in aggravation. “So let me get this straight. You were upset when you were being forced to clean the place, but now you want to do it for fun?”
I didn’t bother explaining. It was like speaking to a brick wall adorned in Prada and Gucci.
My phone went off in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see it was from Shannon.
“I have to go, Mom. I’ll see you at our next family visit,” I said sarcastically.
She didn’t respond.
Instead, she slid her glasses back on and waved me away.
I checked my message as I left the house.
Red: My tongue is all healed. Tonight, there will be burgers.
Me: I could go for a burger.
Red: I wasn’t fishing for your time or anything.
Me: I know, but I’m fishing for yours.
I smiled as I pulled away from the drive and headed toward my place. It wasn’t until I was opening my front door that my phone buzzed again.
Red: Okay. I’ll eat a burger with you, but not five-star burgers. I want grease and cheap soda.
I laughed, and instead of texting her back, I pressed the call button. She answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” she answered.
I could practically hear her smile through the phone.
“I could do cheap and greasy for you.” I grinned.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, good. What time do you want to meet?”
“How about I come pick you up this time?” I asked. Even knowing what her response would be, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see if she didn’t want me to come to her place for any other reason.
Some other reason like a boyfriend she was living with.
“Pick me up? You mean, like a date?”
I grinned into the phone. I wanted to say yes, but I had a feeling that would push her away. So instead, I said, “No. Not like a date. Like a friend coming and picking up another friend.”
There was silence on the other end and then, “Okay.”