Moments: A BWWM Short Story Collection

XXVIII. Loser (Pt. 3 of 5)

After an epic conclusion to the fight with Galacto-Kong involving time travel and the total destruction of the universe (twice!), I pulled out the couch and settled in to sleep. I'd resigned myself to see Andrea's payment through and call it at that, but the conversation that filtered through the closed door as I fluffed my pillow gave me pause.

"Hey mom... is Shawn gonna be staying here? Because he's a real cool guy."

"Yeah! Mike's right! Say he's staying! Come on!"

"That's enough out of you two." Andrea's honeyed voice said kindly but firmly. "He did a nice thing for us, but he has his own life to live and we can't make him stay."

I breathed out as I pulled the wool blanket over my shoulders, grappling with a strange sense of disappointment. It was almost like... No; no that was crazy.

"Will he stay if you marry him?" Michael asked. I heard Andrea sputter.

"M-Michael Carrolton Brown! What are you saying?! I'm not-! H-he-!"

There was a pause, and Andrea sighed explosively. I heard the bed creak, followed by a muttered conversation. I strained my ears to hear, and though I didn't catch much, I'm sure I heard the word "complicated" among the murmurs.

My heart skipped a beat as the boys' door opened, and I feigned sleep as Andrea's socked feet padded down the hallway. I heard her pass me, only to stop and fall silent. The floor shifted, and I felt a surge of warmth from behind. Andrea remained there watching me for five minutes before finally retiring for the night.

I woke early to make breakfast, which was followed by video games with Jam and Mike, which was followed by lunch and tag football around the neighborhood. I never had a day pass so quickly or joyfully, and for the first time in months I completely forgot the pain in my life. Before I knew it, late afternoon had rolled around and it was time to get dressed for our night out on the town.

I only had the clothes I'd worn yesterday on me, but Andrea threw them in the washer while I showered. There was something soothing about putting on those clothes again, a homey feeling that had nothing to do with the lingering heat of the dryer.

Andrea was similarly dressed down; although I had to admit her figure made "dressed down" look dressed up. From the cardigan straining at the seams above her crop top to the too-small jeans hugging her lower body, I found it very difficult to keep my eyes to myself as Andrea fussed over Jamal and Michael's appearance.

"I don't care how cool that jacket is, it's dirty and you're not going to wear it!" Andrea said, prompting Jam to frown as she peeled off said jacket and turned to Mike. "Tuck your shirt in, young man! I'm not going to tell you again!"

Michael gave me a pleading look, as if expecting me to bail him out. Instead, I knelt down as Andrea straightened out the buttons on his shirt.

"This is one of the things you've got to learn, Mike. If you want to be successful like Bruce Wayne, you've got to look the part too."

Michael slumped with a pout, but Andrea flashed me a warm smile as she bent over. Once again, I had to avert my eyes to keep from staring; it didn't matter if she was a single mother, Andrea was a classy woman and I couldn't treat her like that.

My heart sank as Jamal tried to sneak his jacket back on, and I wondered what Andrea would think if she knew the truth about me. Would she treat me with the same kindness she had now? Or would she pull her boys back in horror and tell me to leave?