Sunspots and Raindrops

The front door slammed behind Brendon and all I could do was stare after him. I barely heard Thomas’ groaning as he held the side of his face where Brendon’s fist had just connected. My mother was standing somewhere, seething; I could tell by her deep and rapid breaths.

But I barely noticed anything outside of the look on Brendon’s face before he vanished.

I got to my feet (a little uneasily because of how violently my knees were shaking) and faced Thomas. He looked at me, his eyes fiery, but I wasn’t scared. There was nothing he could do to me that would hurt more than the aching emptiness that Brendon’s absence was causing.

I was shocked to hear my mom speak before myself or Thomas. She was standing tall for the first time in almost a year. She looked like her beautifully proud self. The mother that had been missing since my dad passed, her absence becoming more severe since we moved to Las Vegas.

She was looking Thomas dead in the eyes and I’d noticed she’d taken a few guarding steps toward me. “I think you need to leave.”

Thomas was stunned again. He couldn’t believe that my mother had taken my side after all of this time. He thought he’d had her pinned; thought he had her wrapped around his finger from the get go. But I was more than pleased to see that he was sorely mistaken.

“Come on,” Thomas tried to reason with my mother, but when he stepped toward her, she took two steps away. My heart swelled at the sight of my mother finally coming to her senses.

“Don’t ‘come on’ me.” She warns and I hadn’t heard her so full of fervor in quite some time. “Get out of our house.”

“You’re seriously going to take the side of--...” Thomas tried to argue, but my mom had heard enough already.

“Yes, I am seriously going to take the side of my daughter and her boyfriend.” My mother said simply. “Her boyfriend who obviously treats right.”

That comment stung and I could see the realization in Thomas’ eyes. “I only meant to protect you,” His voice was gentle and I imagined a big black spider trying to lure in starry-eye flies. “You and Sonny. I only meant to keep you two safe.”

“We don’t need you to keep us safe!” I hissed from beside my mom. “Get out!”

“This is about you, you ungrateful brat!” The few seconds it took Thomas to deliberately contradict himself was outstanding, to say the least.

“She’s right,” My mom’s voice was still quiet, but I knew she wouldn’t stay calm for much longer. “Are you going to leave or am I going to have to call the police?”

Thomas looked surprised and simultaneously amused. “I am the police.” He replied arrogantly.

“Like I give a fuck,” My mom said and I was shocked by her language. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve laughed.

“Not only that,” I added, feeling that victory was near. “ After hearing a report of beating on two defenseless woman, one being a minor, I highly doubt that the boys down at the station are going to give a fuck either.”

Thomas looked between the two of us and was silent. His silence seemed like a challenge. My mom had the phone her hand already and her thumb was waiting over the 9 button.

Finally, he said, “Fine, I’ll go.” And walked to the front door, letting himself out.

When I saw his pace slow once he was on the front porch, I followed his trail and grabbed the edge of the door. He’d turned to say something, but I cut him off. “And don’t you dare come back.” And I slammed the door in his face, pressing the lock in on the knob and turning the deadbolt.

When I turned back around, my mother had tears in her eyes and my entire body slumped.

“Mom, please don’t tell me that you actually miss that assho--...” I was cut off when my mom wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me to her.

“I am so sorry, Sonny Mae!” She wailed before pulling away and taking my hands in hers. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve known that there was something wrong with him the first time he...he...”

And that’s when I noticed the bruises on her arms. He’d been hurting her...

The knots in my stomach tightened and I imagined a rag being wrung out with liquid hatred dripping from its threads. If I knew I could’ve gotten away with it, I would’ve killed Thomas within that hour.

“Oh shit, mom,” I say, hugging her tightly as I felt tears brimming in my eyes. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” She countered. “I’m your mother! I’m supposed to protect you from assholes, not invite them over for dinner and go out to movies with them!” I laughed when she said that and I was surprised and relieved to hear her laugh along. Then, she sighed and pulled away from the embrace again. Again, she didn’t let my hands go. “How are we going to celebrate your birthday now? It’s not ruined, is it?”

And I was pleasantly surprised to feel like it wasn’t. I actually felt lighter than I had in a few days. The nagging and ever-present thought of Thomas was gone from my mind and I was worry free. For the first time since arriving in Vegas (and without Brendon’s help), I felt completely free.

“It’s not ruined.” I say with a wet smile. I was still crying. I wondered if my mom and I would ever stop crying around each other.

“Let’s go out, just you and me.” My mom suggested.

It sounded beautiful to me and I quickly agreed and while I went and got ready, my mom cleaned up the kitchen, throwing away the scorching omelet that was still in the frying pan.

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My mom and I had taken our sweet time getting ready so that by the time we left to eat, it was after noon. We were having a late lunch and then returning to the house to cook dinner together.

However, my mom had reserved a booth in the back of the restaurant for us to spend half the day in, she explained excitedly.

“It sounds like you and Brendon are pretty close, huh?” My mom says with a smile as we ate our appetizers. We were eating at some high-end restaurant whose name I couldn’t pronounce correctly. It was Italian.

“We are,” I say with a smile. “He’s such a sweetheart, mom. You’d really like him, I think.”

“Does he know about...” I noticed the frog in my mom’s throat. “Does he know about your father?”

I nodded. “He really helped me through some rough times the first few weeks here.”

My mom swallowed through a true smile. “I’m glad he could be there for you when I couldn’t,” I wanted to tell her stop dwelling on Thomas the shitface, but her guilt was insurmountable. “Thomas never seemed to want to talk about it. He always told me not to compare him to your father.”

I hated Thomas more and more with each passing second and conversation.

“Brendon is fifty times the man that Thomas wishes he could be.” I said definitively.

My mom was pleased to hear this. “Do you love him?” It was an honest question.

“Yes,” I replied, more sure of this than anything in my life. “Yes, I really do.”

My mom smiled at me. “I hope he’s alright,” She said, worry coloring her tone. “Thomas had him pretty good for a few seconds there.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t sent me a text yet,” I said, suddenly realizing that his silence through my cell phone was a little odd. We usually spent too much time sending each other text messages.

“He might just be busy with something else right now,” my mom tried to reason and I didn’t need calming down, but I enjoyed her trying to keep me relaxed regardless. I couldn’t put into words how nice it was to know that she cared.

“Maybe.” I thought allowed before pulling my phone out and opening a blank message.

Hey Bren,
I’m so sorry about what happened at my house earlier today. Are you okay? Thomas is gone for good now. My mom and I told him what for and got rid of him.
Please text me or call me as soon as you get this.
Missing you.
Love you.

I sent the text and then looked up at my mom. She was giving me one of those motherly looks. That look that every mother on the face of the planet is capable of giving. It was knowing and completely understanding. She knew just exactly what I was doing; what I was “going through” for lack of a better phrase.

“Have I ever told you that you look exactly like your father when you’re worried?” She asks and for the first time since last March, her voice didn’t tremble at the mention of my father.

I smiled. “Every single time I’m worried.” I reply and I was glad that my stomach didn’t roll into a bunch of depressed knots. Was this getting over my father’s passing? Did I not miss him as much as I used to? Was I finally getting used to him being gone?

Deeper worry took hold inside of me and my mother asked what was wrong, if Brendon had responded already. I shook my head no. “Then what is it, Sonny Mae?”

I sniffled. “It’s dad,” I say, upset. “I feel like...he’s finally gone.” My mom’s lips pursed and her chin tensed. I could see that she was fighting tears as she swallowed, her throat probably tightening. “I mean, I thought I could always feel him around when I was missing him. Like each pang in my heart was him reaching out and touching me and each time spent crying was longing that he shared where ever he was and every dream was him trying to speak to me, but now...” I drew in a shaking breath. “...now I’m upset over not being upset anymore!”

My mom got out of her booth and walked to my seat, sliding in beside me and wrapping her arms around me. I could hear her sniveling, but I was sobbing my eyes out.

“Honey, your dad loved you with everything he was,” She had told me that countless times, but that single time meant more to me than any other time before or since. “I remember when you came home from the hospital after you were born he didn’t sleep for almost three days straight because he was so enthralled with you. He stayed in your room with you, holding you in a rocking chair while you slept. He told me on multiple occasions how he almost wished you’d wake up crying in the night just so he could have an excuse to comfort you for hours. There was no doubt you were his most precious treasure.”

Having my mother recount this story to me calmed me down instantly. The tears were streaming less violently and the choked breaths had ceased. I sniffed a few times more and then there tears ended and the feeling passed. I leaned away from my mom and looked at her.

“I love you, mom.” I say, smiling. “I can’t remember the last time I told you.”

“I love you more, Sonny Mae.”

And after almost a year of having a broken family, we were finally whole again.