Chapter 6 – Ramsey
Monica looks at me quizzically, and I can only hope she’ll give me the chance to explain later, instead of bolting out the door. I really thought my mom would be asleep, since it’s so late. But her habits and actions are becoming less and less predictable lately, which is why she’s been staying with me in the first place.
“Who’s your friend?” Mom asks, a large, almost creepy smile spreading across her face.
“This is Monica, Mom,” I say. “We’ve had a late night. We’re headed to bed.”
But Mom is already up, lumbering towards us with an off-balanced walk. I’m certain she’s been drinking, although I have no idea where she found alcohol. I got rid of all of mine before asking her to come stay with me, precisely to avoid her tendency to overindulge like this.
“I’m glad you have a girlfriend, Ramsey,” Mom says, reaching out her hand.
“Hello… Mrs. Bradford?” Monica says hesitantly. “Nice to meet you.”
Monica gingerly shakes Mom’s hand, but soon Mom is reaching up to Monica’s hair and face, petting her like some kind of animal.
I’m horrified, but Monica just says, “Thanks. It was really windy in Ramsey’s jeep,” as if Mom is petting her in order to fix her hair.
I can’t believe how chill Monica is playing this. More points for her.
“Mom, do you need any water or anything?” I ask. “Anything I can get you before we head to sleep? I have to be up early tomorrow, for training.”
I specifically leave out the fact that Monica is part of the training or that I know her from work, because the less Mom knows, the better. I can just imagine her telling my brothers that I brought home the female fighter pilot. That wouldn’t go over so well.
“He’s going away soon,” Mom tells Monica. “He goes away a lot. And then I’ll have no one.”
“I’m sorry,” says Monica. “But it’s for a good cause.”
“Yes,” Mom agrees. “I’m proud of him. Of all my boys.”
My heart swells a little bit when I hear this, even though I give all credit to my dad for the way that my brothers and I turned out.
“All right, Mom, thank you,” I tell her. “If you don’t need anything, we’re headed off now.”
“Good night,” she says, and I’m grateful when she toddles back over to the couch.
“You don’t want to sleep in your room, Mom?” I ask her.
“No, it’s too lonely. I like it out here.”
“All right. Good night.”
I hurry to my room, pulling Monica along with me. I don’t want any more diversions. I want it to be just Monica and me, and to be able to leave all worried or embarrassed thoughts about my mother behind.
Once we’re in my room, I flop down on my bed and Monica sits down beside me.
“I am really sorry about that,” I tell her, in a low tone of voice. “I should have warned you that my mom is temporarily staying with me. I really thought she’d be asleep.”
“It’s no problem,” Monica says, and shrugs. “I know what it’s like to have roommate relatives.”
“You do?”
“Sure. My sister-in-law and her two kids live with me.”
“Oh okay. Mom is just living with me until I can figure something else out. She’s not in the best health and I’m beginning to think she’s kind of losing her mind. I’ve been looking at assisted living places Mom can stay at while I’m gone.”
“What about your brothers?”
“Well…” I take a deep breath. I hadn’t really expected to get into such a deep conversation tonight. “They’re not huge fans of my mom’s. Understandably so.”
“Because…?” Monica prods, squeezing my hand, which I realize she’s been holding ever since I grabbed hers and pulled her back to my room.
“She left our dad— and us, I guess— when we were young. He was a great guy, too. A local politician, but not one of the smarmy ones. Really.”
She laughs.
“We had a good life, and my dad was well respected, and completely in love with my mom. They were highschool sweethearts. But she met some loser and ran off with him. In addition to falling in love with him, supposedly, she also fell in love with drinking, drugs, being a drifter…”
“Oh, man,” Monica says softly, sounding sincerely sympathetic. “That really sucks.”
“Yeah. The only loves that have lasted in her life are her addictions,” I continue. “She’s bounced around from loser guy to loser guy ever since. My dad used to wait around for her senses to come back to her. He’d bail her out, give her money, let her live with us after she’d had a break-up and begged and pleaded enough for him to take her back in. He loved her until the end, but she just kept breaking his heart over and over again.”
“And that’s why love sucks,” Monica announces, with conviction.
“Tell me about it. I think my dad literally died of a broken heart. They say it was undiagnosed hypertension, but to me that just sounds like stress and heartache.”
“Wow. That’s awful.”
“Sure was. Jensen and I practically had to raise Harlow. My mom came back into the picture for a while, out of guilt, and because she wanted some of dad’s money, but it was almost better when she wasn’t around. Things were chaotic and none of us had stable lives for a while. We were all on bad paths— especially Harlow— but the Navy really saved us. Being SEALs gave us a purpose.”
“I know what that’s like.”
I look at her and wonder what skeletons might be hiding in her closet. I realize that she doesn’t have to tell me— this is just a one night stand. So, I continue.
“I guess I understand why Jensen and Harlow are pretty much done with my mom. They think ‘she’s made her bed’ and all of that. And I have to admit it can be frustrating, because no matter how much we help her, she seems to ruin everything all over again. But then again, it’s my mom.”
“Right,” she says. “You feel obligated. I think it’s noble of you. Although, a balance might be good. Some boundaries maybe.”
I have to agree with her. I make a mental note to find out where and how my mom managed to get a hold of alcohol, and institute a strict zero-tolerance policy.
I’m not sure if I can actually follow through with it— I don’t want her to be homeless, or living with some vagabond, like she has in the past. But I can’t let her keep slipping up without consequences, either.
There’s a long pause, and I feel like I’ve been a conversation hog. I wipe a strand of hair from her eyes, which was probably put there by my mom.
“So, what about you?” I ask her. “Is there a particular reason you have extended house guests? Only if you want to tell me, that is.”
“Well, my brother died,” she says, and lets out a long, slow breath.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” I place my hand on her shoulder.
I think about Harlow trapped in the helicopter when it was on fire, how I thought we’d lost him. I don’t know that I could have handled that.
“Yeah, his name was Mason,” she continues. “He was in the Air Force too. A fighter pilot, like me. Except stronger, faster. I still can’t believe he got taken down.”
“It happens to the best of us,” I tell her. “Fucking war.”
“Yeah. It about broke my sister-in-law. I sometimes still don’t know if she’s going to pull through it.”
“That would be so hard. And with kids, too.”
“Yeah, she was very depressed, to the point of being non-functional. She’s still pretty depressed, but she’s on meds for it, and slowly getting better, I think.”
She shrugs, looking hopeful but unsure before continuing.
“But her whole life was built around him. She doesn’t have a career, or goals of her own beyond taking care of her family. She really doesn’t have anyone or anybody. So, I invited her to move down with me, temporarily. That was over a year ago and she’s still living with me. But she can take all the time she needs. It’s nice to have company, and I think it helps her.”
“I’m sure it helps her to have your support.”
“Definitely,” she says. “I consider her family. I mean, she is family, by law. But I’m closer to her now than I am to my own flesh and blood. I have two older brothers who are great, but they’re stationed elsewhere, and they’re deployed a lot.”
“I know how that is.” I nod. “What about your parents?”
“They’re still back in Minnesota, where I’m from,” she says. “They had us kids later on in life and I’m the youngest, so they’re older now. We get along pretty well but I don’t see them often. My dad had a stroke a couple years ago and my mom takes care of him full-time.”
“That’s rough.”
She sighs. I sigh. There seem to be no words sufficient to express our emotions. Just sighs.
She says, “These are really deep issues…”
“…for our one night together,” I finish, and we both laugh. “I really didn’t mean to get so depressing. The night was perfect. Our mood was great.”
“It still can be,” she says, her knee bumping mine playfully. “We still have time left.”
“Yeah, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do with my just one night…”
“What’s that?” she asks, but I’m already kissing her, touching her.
And she doesn’t seem to mind it one bit.
Any bit of embarrassment I felt about my mother fades from my mind as my hands hurry to unbutton her uniform. And her sadness about her brother and sister-in-law also seems to fade away as she returns my kisses.
Finally, I think, as I breathe in the smell of her shampoo mixed with the fresh outdoor air from my Jeep. I’m going to get to fuck her. And out just one night together is going to be amazing.