Brian lay still in bed. He never actually went back to sleep. After replaying the night before in his head over and over, he could no longer lie still. He got out of bed and dug through his drawers. After picking out a simple tee shirt and jeans, he made his way into his bathroom. He felt almost like he was on autopilot. It seemed to him there would always be an itch, until he relieved it. He let the sweltering water run down his body. Almost as if he was numb to the pain the water was inflicting on his skin. He cleaned himself hastily, and shaved quickly. Too quickly, he scolded himself when he felt the sting his aftershave caused. After dressing and sloppily combing his hair he went back into his bedroom. Brian found a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled out an inconclusive note for Patrice. He shut his bedroom door behind him and stood outside of Patrice's room. He battled with himself. Should he go inside, or just slip the note under the door? After debating with himself for a good 10 minutes, he finally decided to slip the note under her door. If he had seen that the note had fallen through a gap in his polished wooden floor, he would have given it to her himself.
Brian drove aimlessly through Lexington, trying to muster up the courage to face his mother. She was always a comforting figure, somebody he could complain to. Now she was virtually his worst nightmare. He kept praying silently that this was a huge misunderstanding, and that his mother didn't do all those horrible things. When he came out of his trance, he realized he was less than a mile from his parent’s house. He picked up his cell phone off the passenger seat and dialed in his mother's phone number with one hand. It rang four times and Brian began to feel relieved. "Hello," his mother answered, catching him off guard. "Mom, it's Brian." He said trying to steady his voice.
"Hello there sweetheart," his mother said, almost as if the conversation they had a few days ago didn't take place.
"I am coming over," Brian said dully.
His mother cleared her throat nervously, "Whatever for baby?" She asked shakily.
"To talk, and can you cut the sweet talking bullshit, I am not in the mood for it." Brian almost slapped himself after he realized what he said; he had never ever talked to his mother that way. He could almost see his mother's face, tight lipped and stern as she began to comprehend what her son has just said to her.
"Brian," his mother began.
"I am pulling into the driveway." Brian interrupted, hanging up before he had to listen to whatever it was that she was going to say.
Patrice rolled over in bed, turning away from the window that was pouring sunshine into her bedroom. She heard rustling downstairs and brushed it off. Brian was probably cooking or something. When she had finally woken up completely she picked out one of her new outfits, a pair of loose fitting jeans and a tight white tee shirt. She grabbed the towel set that hung on her door and planned to take a shower. As she walked down the stairs she heard voices. Both of them sounded unfamiliar. Patrice was frozen; she gripped the railing while she listened. Her knuckles were ghostly white.
"I think it is in here," one voice said.
"No! It's in here," another said. Patrice was sure that if these "robbers" didn't kill her first, she would die of a heart attack.
Brian walked slowly towards the front door of his former home. He knew that everyone used the back door, but for some reason the backdoor didn't seem appropriate. As he completed the walkway he felt like a one-man army going off to war. He knocked harder than he intended to. He was shaking slightly. After a few minutes he could hear his mother walking through the house to answer the door. As she unlocked the locks, Brian felt like running away. 'No! I am not going to run, I am going to stand up to her' he told himself firmly as the door swung open.
"Brian!" His mother cried throwing her arms around him. Brian stiffened up, feeling slightly disgusted. Does this woman keep forgetting everything that has happened? Brian's mother noticed how tense he was and let him go almost as quickly she grabbed on. "Lets go into the sitting room." She said airily. Brian let her lead the way as they walked through the house. His father wasn't home and that made him have just a little more confidence. They sat down at the same time, both shaking with a different kind of nervousness.
"Mom, I know about everything that has happened to Patrice, and I know you do too. I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed and hurt I was to find out that you left me out of one of the best experiences I could have ever had." Brian said, pausing to take a breath.
"Brian, I didn't do it to hurt you, I did it to help, you have to understand that." His mother said as she began to cry.
" You had no right," he said raising his voice.
"I had every right, I am your mother, my job is to protect you from harm." Jackie said swallowing some sobs.
"You had no right, I love Patrice, and we are going to be happy together, but I need to hear all the horrible things you have done from your mouth." Brian said feeling stronger with every word he spoke.
"You mean she is at your house Brian? What is she doing there? I told you to leave her alone!" She said, an evil look taking over her eyes.
"She is at my house, and she is going to stay there. We had a nice long talk last night. She told me about all your lies, and how you abandoned her when she needed you the most." He said feeling a brand new headache forming.
"What lies did she tell you huh? How horrible did she make me out to be?" Jackie said, her voice quivering.
"Mom, you don't need me to tell you because you already know what you have done, I don't know if you had her daughter…my daughter killed, but I do know that you would do anything to ‘protect’ me. You are a liar Mom. I hope you know after this, I don't ever want to see you again.”
Jackie began to cry quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can't mean that. What has she done to my son? She probably lured you back into the bed!" She said stomping her feet.
Brian stood up quickly. "No she didn't, she would never. You are lucky that I will not investigate into this any further. I just came here to tell you that I know Mom, and you are going to have to live with this for the rest of your life. You won't have my support though, because to me…you are dead." He said turning to leave.
"Dead! You don't mean that. You love me Brian, I love you…don't throw this away. How could I all of the sudden be nobody to you? How could you rather me be dead?” His mother pleaded.
"Dead Mom, just like my daughter." Brian said leaving. He heard his mother sobbing as he left. He walked briskly to his car. As he started the car, one tear fell out of his eyes, but that was it. He had his closure, but Patrice hadn't. He promised to do everything in his power to make it up to her; and now he was ready.
