May the Best Man Win

by BJ Bentley

  “Well, I-”

  “I hope he isn’t under the impression that I would invest in his company as a favor to you because you happen to have pushed my daughter out of your body.”

  Her face grew more and more red with each word that I spewed at her.

  “Really, Damon, it’s a good opportunity-”

  “I’ll ask one more time. What’s in it for you?”

  She took in a sharp breath through her nose. “Fine. If you must know, Daddy promised me a bonus if I recruited you.”

  “A bonus. In other words, if you lasso me into dumping thousands, or even millions, knowing your father, into his drug trial, he’ll cut you a check,” I surmised flatly.

  “Um.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s about the gist of it.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Never going to happen. Now, if you’d like to schedule a time to see Tierney, let’s move on to doing that.”

  I could see the fire in her eyes; I’d pissed her off. I didn’t much care, though. We had one thing in common, one thing and one thing only: Tierney. And if she wasn’t here to discuss my daughter, we had no reason to be in the same room together.

  Tamping her anger down and schooling her features she said, “Fine. How about tonight?”

  “No. Tomorrow works, though.” Sophie went to yoga with her sister on Wednesdays, so I knew she’d be otherwise occupied anyway.

  “I’m busy tomorrow. Tonight really is the most convenient for me.”

  “Aww, well, I’m sorry,” I mocked. “Tierney is meeting her grandmother tonight, so no, you can’t see her tonight.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “Your mother is in town?”

  I didn’t want to discuss my mother or anyone else with her. “Yes, and she actually wants to get to know her granddaughter, which is more than I can say for your mother.”

  Georgia sighed. “Damon, do you really think that’s for the best? What, with your mother’s…,” she lowered her voice, “mental health being what it is?”

  I straightened my spine, throwing my shoulders back. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, my voice dangerously low.

  Her eyes roamed over my face for a moment. “You don’t know?” she asked, surprised. “Damon, practically everyone in Dallas knows that your mother has been in and out of clinics for years.”

  What the fuck was she talking about? If my mother had been institutionalized, I would know about it. Wouldn’t I? Georgia was either mistaken or lying for some reason. I’d be sure to clear the issue up by going right to the source. I waved off Georgia’s statement. “My mother’s fine.”

  “I’m not sure she should be around my daughter-”

  “My daughter.”

  “Really, Damon, stop with the possessiveness. Like it or not, I gave birth to her. Genetically speaking, she’s half mine, no matter how much you try to deny it,” she hissed.

  “Whatever. Does tomorrow work for you or not?”

  “Fine,” she bit out. It was apparently her favorite word for as often as she said it.

  “Great. You can show yourself out.” I didn’t bother to rise from my chair let alone escort her to the door. I was being deliberately rude, railing against my southern upbringing and felt no shame doing it.

  If she could have slammed the clear plate glass door on her way out, I was sure she would have. I made sure she bypassed Lydia and headed straight for the elevator before mentally dismissing her and turning my mind to my mother instead. I knew my mom was feeling anxious now that she’d chosen to leave my father, and looking back, she’d always been a little neurotic. But was there something else going on? Was she depressed? I wanted a chance to clear the air with her before she spent time with Tierney, so I pulled out my phone and called her, asking her to meet me at my office. Looked like I wasn’t going to be getting any actual work done today.

  An hour later, Vera Hatch sat in one of the club chairs in the corner of my office where I often conducted informal business meetings. Her untouched cup of herbal tea sat on the mahogany coffee table between us. Not one to normally drink in the middle of a work day, I swirled the whiskey in my highball glass, nonetheless, digesting everything that my mother had just confided.

  Seemed that Georgia was only half right about my mother. She’d been seeing a mental health professional for years, but it was as an outpatient because she struggled with anxiety. She hadn’t been institutionalized as Georgia had implied, nor was she an unfit grandparent. In fact, between the two of them, if anyone was unsuited for a place in Tierney’s life, it was Georgia.

  Now that I had a better understanding of what made my mom tick, I looked back on certain incidents over the years with a different perspective. Like, the time she decided to throw a lavish party for my father’s birthday and then refused to come out of the kitchen because there were ‘too many people’ in the house. Or, the way she would fret, weeks after the fact, about a disagreement we’d had when I was in high school because I’d wanted to travel with my friends to a concert, and she didn’t want me to go. It wasn’t a huge argument, but she didn’t much like some of the company I kept at that age, and she let me know it. Still, for weeks after, she’d bring it up, making apologies, even though I couldn’t have cared less by that point. I remember telling her to stop acting crazy each time she tried to apologize for ‘being overprotective.’

  “I understand if you don’t want me around your daughter,” she said quietly.

  “Why wouldn’t I?

  “Well, aside from what I just told you,” she said softly, because no matter how forthcoming she had just been with me, there was still a stigma surrounding mental health, and it was something that a well-bred southern belle such as my mother would be shamed for speaking out about. “I’ve been rather absent, both as a parent and a grandparent. Perhaps, I’m not a good influence.”

  Well, fuck. She hadn’t always been the most present parent, but now that I had a better understanding of why, I felt slightly guilty for judging her and pushing her away when she did make an effort to reach out. Her vulnerability sent a spear of pain through my heart. I remembered her as a confident woman, always heading up this committee or that one. Organizing social events and supporting my father. Ahh, my father. That was the difference. She was only confident with his support. Now, without him, the cracks in her façade were showing. Still, the fact that she made moves to leave my father told me that when she needed to find her backbone, she did, and moving into an uncertain future was brave for her when it would have been the norm for anyone else.

  “I want you to meet her.”

  “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

  “I’m sure, Mom. You’ll love her.” I was talking about Tierney, of course, but as we sat there talking, I wanted her to meet Sophie, too.

  “Tell me about her.” Her voice and eyes were pleading, desperate for any information about the granddaughter she’d last seen when she was a toddler.

  “She’s the best kid, ever. So fucking brilliant.” She flinched, in true genteel fashion, at my coarse language, but I didn’t care. If she wanted to be a part of my life, she’d have to get used to it. “Smarter than I am, that’s for sure.” I smiled as I spoke, not hiding my pride.

  “Of course, she’s brilliant. She’s got your genes.”

  I shook my head. “She’ll surpass everything I’ve achieved some day, I just know it. She loves school, but she’s not just book smart, ya know? She’s pretty intuitive about people, too. So curious about everything.”

  “She sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her.” Her smile was shaky, but I could see that it was genuine. She was here with good intentions, unlike Tierney’s mother. I felt good about moving forward with letting them get to know each other.

  “Well, I actually do need to get some work done today, so I’ll see you out. Come to my place tomorrow night. I’ll send a car for you at five. You can have dinner with us.”

  She let out a relieved breath. “Th
ank you, Damon. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter 31

  Damon

  I spent the majority of the next day finalizing the details of the solar panel installation project with Roy Tanaka, and while I normally would have stayed late to catch up on the work I’d missed the day before thanks to the unexpected- and unwelcome- visit from Georgia and the subsequent visit from my mother, I had to get home and get ready for dinner. I’d talked with Chloe earlier that morning to let her know my mother would be joining us for dinner, and Tierney was already aware that she’d be meeting her grandmother for the first time in her memory. She’d been so little the last time she’d been in my mother’s presence and didn’t remember her at all.

  Tierney greeted me at the door when I entered the house.

  “Dad? Can Sophie come to dinner too?”

  I loved that my girls loved each other, and as much as I also wanted Sophie there with us, I didn’t want to overwhelm my mother or take her attention away from Tierney. If Sophie was there, my mother would be too busy worrying about whether she was making a good impression on her son’s girlfriend and trying to form a connection with her granddaughter. I knew it’d be too much for her.

  “Not tonight, baby girl. We’ll have Sophie over tomorrow night.” I hadn’t missed the fact that Tierney had referred to her as ‘Sophie’ instead of the usual ‘Miss James.’

  In the kitchen, Chloe was throwing some ingredients together and informed me that she was going to duck out for a bit to give us some privacy. All I had to do was throw the things she’d prepared in the oven when I was ready.

  “You’re a godsend, Chlo.”

  “Yeah, well, you pay me really well, so…,” she teased.

  “Get out of here. We’ll see you later. I think there’s a National Geographic documentary on PBS tonight.”

  “You know I’m there for it.”

  Chloe left, and I called for a car to pick up my mother. “I need to grab a shower and change. You good down here by yourself for a bit?”

  “Sure.” Tierney picked up her tablet and made herself comfortable on the couch, occupying herself so I could get a few moments to myself.

  Freshly showered and comfortable in a pair of cotton pants and a t-shirt, I shoved the pan of lasagna Chloe put together into the oven as instructed, making note of the time so I could swap it out for the cheesy garlic bread when necessary. Tierney set the table while I uncorked a bottle of wine and asked Tierney if she wanted water, milk, or juice with her dinner.

  “Just water, Dad.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m hoping that someday you’ll try something new.” I was only teasing her, but her response couldn’t have been more serious.

  “It’s water, Dad. Aside from oxygen, it’s the most vital component in sustaining life. Why wouldn’t I want to drink that?”

  “Okay, then. Water it is.”

  I was taking the lasagna out of the oven when the doorbell rang. I strode to the door, swinging it open to greet my mother.

  “Oh, um, am I early?”

  I frowned, puzzled. “No. You’re right on time. Dinner’s almost ready. Come on in.” I stepped back to let her move past me and turned to reset the alarm on the security panel.

  “You look...comfortable.”

  Understanding dawned. “This is my home, Mom. I know Dad likes to do things differently, but at home, we don’t dress up for dinner.”

  “I see,” she said with what I interpreted as surprise and wonder. As if wearing comfortable clothing in one’s own home was a novel idea.

  Well, it was in my father’s household where one must always be ‘presentable.’ However, in my house, we wore our pajamas all day on the weekends if the mood suited us, and sometimes we ate dinner in front of the T.V. It’s not like what I was wearing was covered in stains or full of holes. I was clean, not rumpled. “Do you mean to tell me that you’re comfortable living in your designer pant suits twenty-four-seven?”

  “Well...no, not really.” She said it quietly as if admitting it out loud was an unforgivable faux pas and should the ladies of her social circle hear her, she’d be shunned.

  “Well, the next time you come over, you can wear whatever you like. Jeans. Sweats. Pajamas. Whatever.” Her lips twitched at that, and even though I was being completely serious, it was nice to see humor grace her face.

  The twitching stopped when she looked beyond me and spotted Tierney. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  “Hello,” Tierney returned before looking to me for confirmation that this woman was who she thought she was.

  “Come here, baby girl.” I held my arm out to her, and she walked right into me. “Tierney, this is your grandmother. My mother.”

  I watched in fascination as my mother, a woman who had previously never bowed to anyone, crouched down so she was eye level with my daughter. “Hello, Tierney. The last time I saw you, you were but a baby. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady.”

  Tierney blinked at her. “Can I call you Nana?”

  “Oh,” Vera breathed, “I would like that very much.”

  “Okay. Nana, do you like lasagna?”

  My mother smiled. “I do, Tierney. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “That’s good.” Then I watched, with my heart in my throat, as my baby girl reached out, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and grasped my mother’s hand, tugging her into the kitchen.

  I hadn’t really discussed my relationship with my mother with Tierney other than to say that we hadn’t seen each other in a long time, but she was moving to Portland to be near us. She hadn’t really questioned that, but she did ask why my father wasn’t also moving. Since the relationship with my father was much more strained than the one with my mother, I skirted around the discussion as best I could. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I also didn’t want to lay that burden at her feet. She didn’t need to know that her grandfather was, generally speaking, an ass, so I just told her that he was ‘a very busy man.’ That seemed to appease her.

  “Dad! Your phone’s ringing!”

  I shook off thoughts of my dysfunctional family and picked my vibrating phone up from the counter. Opening the text from Sophie, it made me very glad that Tierney was distracted by my mother. Staring back at me was a photo of Sophie’s tits covered by the stretchy material of her sports bra. It was yoga night, so I knew she was with April. I texted her back with a sly smile.

  Me: You’re wearing too many clothes.

  Sophie: I’m in public. You know how it is.

  Me: You’re going to have to do better. More nipple.

  Sophie: I have to go. Class is about to start.

  Me: Likely excuse. I love you.

  Sophie: *kissy face emoji*

  “What’s got you grinning like a loon?”

  My eyes snapped to meet my mother’s. I’d almost forgotten there were other people in the room. I was ecstatic that Sophie was letting her guard down a bit more and feeling bold enough to flash me some boob even if it was still fully clothed. The buttoned-up version of Sophie would never have sexted with me. I suddenly couldn’t wait to get this dinner over with and get Tierney to bed, so I could text my girl back.

  “A friend.” I didn’t want to get into the whole ‘I have a girlfriend’ discussion with my mother, and I certainly didn’t want to do it with Tierney present since she and I had not had that talk ourselves, yet. Even if it was a given that Tierney already knew about me and Sophie. We weren’t exactly subtle around her, and my baby girl was smart. She would have definitely figured it out by now. Still, I’d like to have that conversation with her, officially.

  Dinner went a lot more smoothly than I had originally anticipated thanks in large part to Tierney’s immediate and unconditional acceptance of her nana. Within the first fifteen minutes, all the tension eased from my mother’s body as she and Tierney talked about school. My mom may have chos
en that topic simply because she didn’t know where else to start, but it was the right choice in that it was Tierney’s favorite subject. I watched my daughter’s face light up as she spoke and watched her become more animated when talk turned to her teacher.

  After dinner, Tierney and Mom sat on the living room sofa while I put away the leftovers and tidied up the kitchen. I was just drying my hands when my phone buzzed with another text from Sophie. Opening it, my dick twitched at the sight of two puckered, rosy nipples.

  Me: Come over.

  Sophie: Is your mother still there?

  Me: Yes, but she’ll be leaving soon.

  Because I’d be kicking her ass out in about five minutes.

  Sophie: It’s a school night.

  I smiled at her favorite taunt.

  Me: That excuse has never once worked with me. Why do you insist on using it?

  Sophie: Because good girls don’t go out on a school night.

  Me: Ahh, but see, you’re a naughty girl. A very naughty girl. And I need to fuck you.

  Me: Pack a bag and get your ass over here.

  I watched those three little dots dance while she composed her retort. They disappeared and reappeared several times like she was repeatedly deleting her reply and then typing something else. I waited for her to finally decide on something all the while watching Tierney and my mom with their heads together on the couch, undoubtedly conspiring about something. I shook my head in disbelief that the two of them hit it off so quickly. I was willing to forgive my mom for years of neglect, but it wasn’t going to happen overnight. Tierney, on the other hand, clearly felt no such need to hang on to bitterness or resentment. She just wanted her grandmother.

  I looked back down at my phone when it vibrated.

  Sophie: On my way.

  Adrenaline flooded my system. I felt like a randy teenager any time I even thought about getting close to Sophie. The softness of her skin, the scent of her hair. Everything about her undid me. I took a moment to assess the obviousness of my bottom half’s growing interest before entering the living room and politely ushering my mother out of my house, reminding her that it was a school night and Tierney needed to get ready for bed but also suggesting that maybe Tierney would like to spend some time with her on Saturday. They both enthusiastically agreed to that, so it was settled, and my mom was on her way.