Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

Tanner didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the kitchen door out to the patio. The sun was at the right spot in the sky to light up the courtyard. His mother was at the far end, her head bent over a trellised plant. In contrast with the shot-silk blouse she wore with a dark blue skirt, which was subdued as far as Eileen-wear went, she had on worn gardening gloves that once had been red. They were now closer to the color of mud.

If Tanner didn’t know better, he’d think they were the same exact gloves she’d worn years ago, when he was in high school, before he’d left for the circuit.

Tanner approached slowly, and Eileen didn’t lift her head even though she had to have heard his steps. He crossed his arms over his chest, but he suddenly worried that he might look too confrontational. It wasn’t his mom’s fault that he’d just had such a giant fight with Avalon.

Because shoving his hands in his pockets felt awkward, too, he settled for picking up a small clay pot. An herb sprouted in it, looking too weedy for basil. A fragrant and earthy scent wafted up from it. “Do you want me to leave, Mom?” The words were hard to wrench out.

She shook her head, but didn’t look up. Her neck was graceful. The blond hair that pooled at her shoulders was shot with gray. “I want this all to have happened ten years ago.” She gave a quiet huff. “No. I want this to have happened twentysomething years ago.”

“Dad should have told you.”

Her head snapped up. Her eyes flashed and the grooves around her mouth flashed white. “ You should have told me.”

Tanner felt the insides of his elbows wrench tight, along with the base of his spine. “It wasn’t my place. I was twenty. How was I supposed to go to my mom and tell her that I’d met my half brother. And his mom too?”

“I’m an adult and your mother. Please don’t treat me like a child.” There was no anger in her words. Only soft, chiding disappointment that scraped his skin off. It hurt almost worse than the argument with Avalon had. Her hands kept moving with quiet efficiency, cutting back dead flowers and dropping them into a basket.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain there was subtle, but demanding. He breathed deep. “I never meant to.”

Eileen set the basketful of withered purple flowers on a side table and stripped her gloves off. “I know that. You’ve always had a good heart, Tanner. You get a little bullheaded at times, but it’s part of the magic of your makeup. You’re a world champion and you’re going to do it again. You’ve made the life you want for yourself. I only wish you’d given me that same agency.”

He shifted from foot to foot. His flip-flops stuck to him. “Mom . . .” He sighed and shook his head. He should have done this a long time ago. So many should haves; they stacked up like surfboards behind a team house. “Fuck, Mom. I’m sorry. I got so pissed at Dad that I let it get into everything else, didn’t I?”

She gave his cheek something that was a little more than a pat but way less than a smack. “You watch that language, mister. But otherwise, yes. You stepped outside the bounds, Tanner.”

Tanner scrubbed both hands over his face, then through his hair. “I was trying to do the right thing, Mom. I loved you, and I loved our family, and I wanted to keep you safe.”

“I’m the parent here, Tanner.” She patted his cheek more softly this time. “Even though you’re a grown man now, I’m still your mom. I make choices around here, especially the ones for me.”

He folded her hand in both of his. “I’m sorry. So sorry, Mom. I won’t do anything like it again.”

“God, I hope not,” Eileen said with a wry smile. “I hope there are no other secrets left to keep. I’m about done with them. Tanner, I’m so sorry I snapped at you, though.”

He shook his head immediately and squeezed her hand. “Mom, I get it. You don’t have to apologize at all. Not even a little bit.”

Tanner wanted to be able to accept things like his mom did. He wished he could be that sort of optimist. But that was another element of his father within him, most likely. The asshole side of him. He’d spent years trying to do the right thing, only to realize too late that he’d screwed up. And screwed up badly.

An hour later, the guilt had frothed into a level of upset that had him on edge. Eileen puttered around her courtyard, Sage had taken up residence in the living room with the TV remote in one hand, and Avalon was upstairs. She was probably hiding from him, and as well she should. He didn’t know what he’d say to her. The tension in the house was riding higher and higher.

It kind of figured that it would. This wasn’t any sort of happy reunion. Avalon had arranged a meeting with all the so-subtle tension of a meeting with North Korea.

Tanner leaned against the archway between the living and dining rooms. His arms didn’t feel comfortable anyplace except crossed over his chest. He glowered at the TV, which was running racing footage from Germany. “Why are you watching cars go in tiny circles around a track?”

“They are not tiny circles,” Sage replied without looking at him. “Albert Park is a street course. And if you’re going to be so negative, you can take it outside. I don’t need your crap.”

He huffed, but he stalked outside anyway. Sage had a point. She didn’t need anything from him.

None of them did.

Seeing Mako walking up the street was almost a blessing. His anger found a target. The other man wore tan cargo shorts and a bright green polo shirt with the collar lifted in the back. He drew to a halt at the foot of the walk. “Are you here to stop the meeting? I thought I was . . . invited.” His mouth lifted in a smirk.

Tanner’s fists locked. “It doesn’t count as an invitation if you’re blackmailing people into it.”

“That’s the difference between you and me, Tanner.” Mako propped one foot on the stone of the front step. He leaned an elbow on his lifted knee. “I take the expedient route. I don’t have time to dick around for a decade before capping off my career.”

Tanner narrowed his eyes. The ups and downs were hitting a ridiculously erratic level. Like riding a roller coaster that seemed to go in an eternal loop. “You were five years younger than me. Dad missed my first day of kindergarten for your birth, didn’t he?”

Mako’s dark hair slipped into his eyes when he tilted his head down. “I wouldn’t know. Being only a day old and all makes the memories a little fuzzy.”

“I didn’t do the math until the night I went to your house.” Standing in the middle of that dinky hut, with the screams flying around his head. “I wondered what else Dad missed or skipped or didn’t show up for because of you. And it wasn’t like he’d told me where he was going. So every time, it was another lie.”

“That’s the way lies work.” Something dark and angry flew behind Mako’s eyes. He shoved a hand through his dark hair. “They keep adding up like that. The beginning gets lost in the mess.”

“I wish you’d get lost.”

“Why so mean, Tanner?” Mako drawled. “What have I done to you?”

Tanner couldn’t help a step toward the other man. He was younger than Tanner, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d filled out through the shoulders and his face had lost the roundness he’d had as a teenager. “The magazine article isn’t enough? And more threats about my dad? No one’s going to believe he’s that scuzzy.”

“You’re right.” Mako’s teeth glinted in a sharp smile. “I’ll have to do better next time.”

Tanner couldn’t take it anymore. He snapped. His fist was up and back, then flying through the air. He punched Mako. His half brother’s head snapped back. His hair flew.