The Summer House

“You can come in if you like,” I offered politely, tilting my head towards the door I was currently unlocking. It was around four in the afternoon and we had just come back from our fifth excursion into town. Though we had spent a considerable amount of time out and about running errands together in the last five days, Brendon remained partially reserved, visibly combing over his words before letting them roll off his lips. “I gotta warn you though: it’s not in the best shape.”

“Is this your L.A. snootiness talking?” he joked after giving me a shy smile and nod at my invitation. “Too out-of-the-city, rustic, cabin compared to polished-and-primped condo couture?”

I gave him a look of humorous disbelief, shaking my head at his designer-esque lingo.

He blushed but grinned all the same, delighted that I had openly laughed at his comment.

The door swung open and I took care to walk over the gaping hole in the crumbling floorboard before making my way to the couch. “No,” I said lightly, looking around for any sign of my raccoon buddy; I had a feeling that it would freak Brendon out if he spotted it roaming around the house. “It’s more too foot-goes-through-the-floorboard-when-you-least-expect-it and woodland-creature-resort family shack. But you’re right, it might just be the L.A. snootiness talking…”

I trailed off when I heard a crunch and a loud thump behind me, followed by a grunt of shock. I turned around and snickered at Brendon’s awe-struck face, his eyes wide and his jaw slack as he found himself left-ankle-deep in the floor.

“What the f—” He cut himself off and stared up at me, features now arranged somewhere between horror and embarrassment. “Oh my God! I’m so fu—I’m-I’m—Oh my God! I’m so freaking sorry!” He tugged his leg out of the hole and hastily got up, running his hands all over his thin frame to dust himself off. “I’m so sorry! I’ll pay for the damage, I swear! Jesu—!”

“Brendon,” I interjected, watching him clasp a hand to his trembling mouth and stare wide-eyed at the damage. “Relax; it happens. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I put a hole through your floor!”

“Have you not noticed the other seven or something around here? Relax. You want something to drink?” My elbow made contact with his side a couple of times as I tried to nudge him towards the kitchen.

Brendon took a seat at one of the red stools at the counter, nervously wringing his hands as if expecting the counter to crumble under his touch. He bit his lip as he looked around and started when I slid him a mug of coffee.

“I’m not sure how you like your coffee so you can help yourself to the cream and sugar.” I placed the two in front of him and settled down in the stool beside him. I tried not to let my jaw drop as I watched Brendon spoon sugar into his mug six times and fill it to the top with cream.

He seemed to recover from his earlier mishap as he stirred. He turned to me, lips curled upward. “Hey, how long are you staying here in Seattle for? I know your book is due at the end of the summer and all but are you gonna stay after it’s all done?”

GOD NO!

The sudden inquiry caught me off guard and I almost let slip the rude thought.

“I haven’t really thought of it,” I hedged, taking a sip from my mug. “But I’m not sure if this is really the right scene for me.”

Brendon’s perma-smile slowly vanished. “It can be hard to adjust, especially if you’re from a big city,” he shrugged. “The first two months for me were hell. But you get used to it, y’know.”

I had to look at anything but his face. “Yeah, but I doubt I can handle all this space by myself. It was a bitch to clean out in the first place and I hardly have the patience to maintain it.”

“I could send Georgia over to help clean up once in awhile, I’m sure she won’t mind. She already likes you from what I’ve told her. I could help, too…” His voice trailed off to a mousy mumble.

My eyebrows arched. “You talk about me to Georgia?”

“Yeah,” Brendon answered slowly, furrowing his eyebrows at me. “So?”

“Like, a lot?”

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?”

“Isn’t that kind of inappropriate?” I pointed out, raising my eyebrows. “She is your girlfriend and all—”

“What? My what?” He shook his head and raised his hands, laughing. “Woah, woah, woah! Georgia is not my girlfriend, Madeline. She’s my Grandmother’s nurse.”

I couldn’t stifle the thought that popped into my head. Sexy nurse?

As if reading my mind, Brendon pressed on. “Georgia’s fifty-six. And no!” he immediately doused the follow up thought that began to crawl into my mind. “She is not a cougar and I am not into…that.”

My cheeks probably turned eight different shades of pink before settling on fire engine red. “Oh.”

He grinned at me, laughing and slapping the counter top. “Now some of the things you’ve said to me before make sense. I was beginning to think you didn’t know what a nurse was.”

“You never mentioned she was a nurse,” I retorted, hiding behind my mug.

“I thought I did,” he explained sheepishly. “Sorry.”

The next handful of minutes were spent hiding behind our coffee mugs and looking anywhere but at each other, pretending to be heavily indulging in our scalding hot beverages when we were really hoping that a rip in time would be available for us to climb through so that we could go back and never have to live those humiliating minutes, ever.

Brendon shyly broke the silence. “You never really answered my question.”

I canted my head minutely. “It’s really easier for me to just go back to L.A. after August, to be honest. My life is set up there.”

He nodded acceptingly, keeping his tired eyes trained to the counter. “Yeah, I guess it would be a little strange to stay here after all your business is done here.”

I agreed and got up, heading towards the fridge. “You hungry?” I asked, looking through the stacks of food we filled it with just yesterday. It was difficult to keep the conversation on a subject that so obviously made Brendon’s eyes dim and his full lips droop. It gave me the urge to make it up to him somehow for putting that look on his face. “You can stay for dinner if you want,” I invited kindly.

“Oh!” Brendon’s head snapped up and swiveled around in search of the time. He spotted it on the microwave and suddenly got up, looking guilty. “Oh, shit! I have to get home and help Georgia bring my Grandma down for dinner.” He ran a hand through his hair and waltzed towards the door, stopping and turning to me before exiting the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I’d love to stay and all but—” Brendon paused and tilted his head at me for a minute before beaming. “But you can come over for dinner if you want to. We’re having a lemon chicken tonight, I think.”

The thought of adding more work for himself and Georgia made my mind reel. How could I possibly accept when he was practically inviting me to add more responsibility to their lives? The attention should all be on his Grandma.

“Uh, no, thank you,” I declined politely, stifling a wince when I caught sight of Brendon’s surprised dismay. “I’m, uh, vegan.” Even the lie sounded pathetic to my ears.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I, uh, I am.” I chuckled weakly. “Go veggies.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.” Brendon’s body rested on the door frame of the kitchen as he appraised me for one silent moment. “So, are there a lot of steak-eating vegans out there or are you the first of your kind?”

I blushed and felt the tips of my ears heat up as he chuckled once again at my discomfort.

“Don’t forget who you did groceries with yesterday, Madeline,” Brendon laughed warmly. “But it’s cool if you don’t want to come over for dinner. I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I explained, following him as he walked to the foyer and began to let himself out. “It’s just that you have your Grandma to take care of and I don’t want to get in the way.”

When he made it out the door and was about to head down the steps, Brendon turned back to me with a tiny smile. “I wouldn’t have invited you if you would be in the way.”

“I can’t –”

He surprised me by scoffing and giving me an expectant cut-the-crap-already look.

“No,” I said firmly.

The look stayed on his face as he wordlessly tapped his foot on the crooked porch.

“No,” I repeated, crossing my arms. “And your presence here is only delaying things further.”

“Feel bad,” Brendon replied simply, pivoting to face me fully but otherwise not moving off the property.

Seconds ticked by and I eyed the house across the lake, the windows illuminated with yellow light. I could vaguely catch a woman bustling back and forth on the ground floor, disappearing and reappearing through several windows.

I bit my lip.

Then I caught the passing look of anxiety on Brendon’s face as his eyes flickered sideways towards his house.

“Fine,” I groaned, scowling at his now grinning face before following him out and locking the door behind me. “I like you better when you’re shy,” I snapped, marching ahead of him towards the other side of the lake.

I heard him laugh behind me, jogging to catch up to my furious pace. “I get that a lot.”

-x-

Dinner passed and I had to stay afloat in the overwhelmingly out of-place feeling I was engulfed in. I so desperately wanted to excuse myself from the table and sneak out through a bathroom window, but the smiles I got from Brendon and Georgia were enough to keep me super glued to my seat the whole evening. Brendon’s Grandmother offered me a weak, but warm, smile once throughout the course of the night, but I’m sure she would have been more responsive if it weren’t for all the painkillers she was on.

Georgia and Brendon took turns feeding her pureed lemon chicken and a jar of squash and green bean baby food. I offered to help, but Georgia shooed away my hands and told me to just enjoy the meal.

I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It didn’t escape me that by inviting me to dinner, Brendon was showing me a part of his tragic life. Of course, he didn’t know that I had witnessed him taking care of his Grandma far more extensively during the ungodly hours of the night before. He knew this to be my first, mild, exposure to the life he gave up Vegas for and probably didn’t expect me to feel so badly about it because he smiled and laughed the whole time.

He made conversation as the four of us ate, eliciting frequent bursts of laughter from Georgia and skillfully acted giggles from me. He didn’t suspect a thing as I played along, and I made it my mission for the night to stop anything from wiping the genuine smile off his face, even going so far as pretending to slip off my chair and let him help me up just to transform the smile into a broad grin.

By the end of the night, I knew that Brendon was a special guy. Everything about him shined. Los Angeles held men of the plastic nature, all alike in arrogance and selfishness. Before Los Angeles, I had lived with my parents in Arizona, Georgia, Illinois and New Jersey, and I quickly became familiar with the different types of boys and men in the world.

But Brendon – he was something special.

Georgia even told me so as I helped her clean up in the kitchen. He had gone to carry his Grandmother back upstairs and refused my offer to help him, telling me to just relax and wait for him downstairs. So, naturally, I had scoffed and gone in search of something to help out with.

“I hope you enjoyed dinner,” Georgia said to me, her eyes crinkling as she smiled warmly at me over her shoulder. She stood over the sink cleaning the plates we had just eaten off of. She was around my height with a very slim figure. For someone in their fifties, she was in great shape, and carried a certain old-soul vibe. Her dark brown hair was cropped short into a motherly pixie cut and her brown eyes, though somewhat wrinkled, were alive with the steady burn of a fireplace.

She could have been Brendon’s mother if I didn’t know any better, but I knew she was back in Summerlin.

“I did,” I nodded, slowly entering the kitchen. “It was really delicious. You’re a fantastic cook.”

“Me? Why, thank you, Madeline, that’s very sweet of you to say. But I didn’t make dinner tonight, dear; Brendon did.”

“He did?” I said weakly. “How—but he was with me the whole time since we got here.”

She smiled at me in a way I remembered my mother used to when I was young. “He made it in the morning before picking you up to go grocery shopping, dear.”

“Wow,” I breathed. “He keeps himself pretty busy, huh?”

“He’s a very special boy,” Georgia agreed, wiping off a plate with a dishtowel. “I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their grandmother before. Y’know,” she added, leaning towards me. “I’ve been a nurse for a very long time and I’ve had many patients over the years. None were like Brendon. Usually I would have to take care of everything by myself; groceries, changing the bed, diapers, feeding everyone. But he barely lets me work unless he’s out getting groceries.” She chuckled. “I sometimes wonder what he keeps me around for.”

I smiled faintly. “Can I help you with the dishes?”

“Thank you, dear, but I’m sure Brendon will be back any moment and I’ve only got one left to clean. You should just relax.”

Again with the relaxing!

I didn’t argue and instead sat at one of the stools at the counter, making small talk while I waited for Brendon to come back.

“I’m glad you moved in across the lake, Madeline,” Georgia said, leaning her back against the sink while she wiped the last dish. “The first few months here were hard on him – nearly having a meltdown every time his Grandmother so much as coughed, staying cooped up in the house, keeping to himself. But I can see you’re a good friend for him to have. He’s been…happier since you two have been spending time together.”

My cheeks heated up as I stared down at the marble countertops, shyly smiling at her honesty. “I’m glad I moved in across the lake, too. It was really great to meet you three.”
“You’re too sweet,” she laughed, setting the plate down on a drying rack and shuffling over to the counter opposite me. She leaned forward, her hands clasped on the surface of marble and her voice hushed. “Y’know, dear, Brendon’s single –”

My eyes widened and before I could tell her that our cozy conversation had taken a turn for beyond pants-shitting embarrassing, the kitchen door swung open.

“Hey, what are you two talking about?”

I jumped and Georgia laughed heartily, slipping away from the counter and moving towards Brendon, who stood surveying us with raised eyebrows.

“Nothing, honey,” she beamed, patting him on the arm twice before saying goodnight to me and exiting, her footsteps up the stairs echoing in the quiet room.

“I don’t trust you two,” Brendon informed me slowly, eying me with exaggerated suspicion. The twinkle that was embedded in his eyes the whole time we ate was still there.

“Yeah,” I said shakily, getting up from my seat. “Me neither.”

He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I guess I have to take you home now, huh?”

I shrugged. “I can walk by myself if you’re not up for it. I only live thirty seconds away.”

The melodic laughter. “Come on,” he grinned, jerking his head towards the foyer. “I’m always up for the walk home.”