Vegas Boys

Banner by Insane Gravity. <3

"I--I just--" I rubbed my temple, running my hand through my hair as I took a step back. I was literally reeling; it was all too much for me. "Mom..." I managed. "Why didn't you let me know sooner?"

"I wanted to surprise you." She still sounded cheerful, but her smile was fading as she took in my less-than-excited reaction. "I thought you'd be happy."

"I--I am happy, Mom," I lied, for her sake, because I hated to upset her like this. "But I just--I can't just get up and leave..."

Mom obviously disagreed, staring blankly at me, noncomprehending, as I trailed off. "Sure you can," she said brightly.

I just shook my head a little as I sank down onto the expensive Italian-made bench that sat up against the wall, and buried my head in my hands as I struggled to calm my racing thoughts.

Mom walked over to me and crouched down in front of me so that we were face-to-face. "Sweetheart," she cooed softly, pushing my hair out of my face and tilting my chin up so that I was forced to look at her. "You don't have to stay here anymore. I've come to take you home."

"But--but what about--" I gulped and took a deep breath to buy time as I struggled to think of any reason other than the real one, the one I knew she would never accept. "What about school? And Dad? And my...my friends?"

"Honey," Mom sighed. "School isn't important. You're on a break right now, so it's not like you'll be missing anything any time soon. I'll contact them in a few days and let them know about the switch. You're already enrolled in New York, so it's not a problem. And I'm sure your father and your friends will miss you, but you can still keep in touch. It's not the end of the world."

"Mom..." I tried. "I don't--"

"Kelsey," she said, cupping my face firmly in both of her hands, as if I were talking gibberish and she was trying to calm me down. "I promise you, none of that matters. You don't have to stay here. You can come home now."

But thisis my home, I wanted so desperately to say. I feel more at home here, with Brendon, than I've ever felt anywhere with you. But she was smiling at me wider than she'd ever smiled before, and I just couldn't do that to her.

When I still didn't say anything, Mom searched my face even more intensively and said, "I just don't understand what could possibly make you want to stay here."

As if on cue, Brendon stepped out into the foyer.

The bench was placed against the wall to the side of the archway leading into the living room and parlor, so during my conversation with my mother, we couldn't see Brendon in the living room, and he couldn't see us in the foyer. Now, as he stepped into the foyer, his back was turned to us, and we spotted him first.

Confused, he finally turned around and saw us. He inhaled sharply with surprise at my distraught expression, and at the presence of this woman he had never met before. He glanced around nervously, as if checking to make sure there were no other strangers hanging around, and then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he turned back to us.

"Sorry," he apologized awkwardly, "I just, uh---I was just wondering--"

"It's okay, Bren," I reassured him, doing my best to smile.

Mom, however, was anything but reassuring. Her formerly cheerful expression hardened into one of distain as she rose silently to her feet and struck a formidable pose, her arms folded over her chest. She studied him disapprovingly over the end of her nose.

"Uh..." I stood up as well and hesitantly placed one hand on my mother's arm, as if to restrain her. "Mom, this is Brendon. Brendon...this is my mom."

"Hi, Mrs. Matthews, it's nice to meet you," said Brendon immediately, moving forward to shake her hand.

Mom just eyed his extended hand with something like disgust. "It's Mrs. Caulfield, actually," she informed him coldly. "Mr. Matthews and I are no longer married."

"Oh." Brendon turned bright red and dropped his hand embarrassedly. "Of course. My apologies."

"Kelsey," said Mom, and her angry, irritable tone was worlds away from her initial bright and excited one, "we should probably get going. Our plane leaves in an hour."

He frowned, glancing back and forth between me and my mother. "Plane?"

"Kelsey is coming back to New York to live with her stepfather and I," said Mom before I could explain myself.

Brendon made some pretty crazy faces--but the horrified, panicked expression his face took on in that moment was like nothing I had ever seen, even on him, before. "Not--not tonight? Not now?"

"In an hour," repeated my mother coldly.

Brendon's reaction was much like my own--looking utterly terrified, he turned to me, gripping my upper arm for dear life. He kept opening and closing his mouth again, speechless, his dark eyes pleading with me, begging me to deny the horrible truth.

"Kelsey," Mom patronized me, touching my shoulder and turning for the door.

"No--Mom--" I let out a little half-sigh, half-moan of despair. "I need to talk to Dad first."

Mom's expression froze into one of cold indifference. "Of course," she agreed stiffly.

I detached myself from Brendon, giving him the most reassuring look I could muster, and hurried upstairs to get Dad. I explained the whole situation to him, and he seemed to be much less surprised than I had been--then again, maybe he was just less expressive.

He was already in a full tuxedo, equipped with lots of hair gel and a Rolex, ready for the banquet, when we came back downstairs together. Mom was standing by the front door, waiting impatiently; Brendon was now sitting on the bench I had been sitting on just minutes before, staring into space with a blankly shocked expression on his handsome face. I wanted nothing more than to tell my mother to go away and never come back, to hold Brendon and kiss him and tell him it was going to be alright, to get rid of that horrible look on his face.

Dad regarded my mother grimly, and I could tell that underneath all of his outer layers of careful indifference, he was disapproving. "Well, Karen," he sighed, "if this is what Kelsey wants, then I guess I have to agree to it."

Mom was nodding eagerly, but Dad put his heavy hand on my shoulder and looked down at me, a serious, but understanding, look on his broad face. "Is this what you want, Kelsey?"

I looked over at Mom, her bony, manicured hands pressed together as if she were in prayer. Then I tore my gaze away and looked over at Brendon: he was staring at me with the most desperate expression I have ever seen in my entire life, and I swear, I could feel my heart breaking.

I moved away from Dad, over towards Brendon, and he stumbled to his feet and immediately pulled me into his arms. He kissed my face frantically for a moment, and then held me so tightly that it almost hurt, and buried his face in my hair so that I wondered briefly if he was crying.

"Brendon?" I whispered into his ear, my voice low so that Mom and Dad couldn't hear. "What should I do?"

He pulled away from me slightly. His dark brown eyes were boring into my pale blue ones as he gripped the sides of my face with both hands and pressed his forehead to mine. We stood there, just staring at each other, for what felt like an eternity, before he finally whispered, so faintly that I could hardly make out his words:

"Don't leave me."

-----

My mother did not give me up without a fight.

She stood there in the doorway and yelled at all three of us--me, Brendon, and Dad, but especially me--for a good twenty minutes, ranting and raving about how the sins of Las Vegas had drawn me in, and how Dad was a bad father and she should have known better than to trust him, and how I would see, Brendon would only hurt me in the end, like all Vegas boys did. We stood there and took this without giving her the satisfaction of an argument, or really even acknowledging the insults she hurled viciously at us. And then when she saw that this wasn't working, she turned to dirtier tactics.

She practically got down on her knees and kissed my feet and begged. She cried. She tried her very best to guilt me into coming with her by telling me what I knew were lies, all detailing the unbearable heartache she'd been suffering ever since she had abandoned me here in Vegas.

And then I spoke for the first time since I had told her that I wasn't coming with her: "No, Mom. You're lying--you didn't miss me. You only want me to be your daughter when it's convenient for you."

She sobbed and begged and pleaded, but Brendon stood firmly at my side, and I wouldn't be swayed. Finally, Dad comforted her, pointing out that her plane was going to leave without her if she didn't hurry up and get to the airport; tearfully, she agreed, and left.

She probably wouldn't have been so easy to get rid of if she actually gave a shit about me. But I think she loved the idea of being a mother and having a daughter more than she loved me.

-----

"Don't feel bad, Kelsey," said Dad earnestly, rubbing my back and kissing me on the forehead. "You did nothing wrong. It's your decision, and your life, and you shouldn't cry over her."

I just nodded, but the tears still rolled down my cheeks, silently.

Brendon tucked a strand of my hair behind one ear, and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my temple lightly. "Come on," he murmured, "lets get out of here."

Surprisingly enough, Dad nodded his assent, so Brendon took me by the hand and led me out to his car.