blue eyes

Chapter 6

Brandon:

He stayed glued to the spot, watching his mother disappear into the crowd. Of course she didn't notice him. She was probably on the phone with Paris or some nonsense. Plus, she'd never seen him with a beard before.

"Excuse you," someone said as they stepped aggressively around Brandon who was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

He took that as a cue to move on. He walked slowly, trying to decide how he felt about his mom not noticing him. He thought he'd feel elation or pride, having changed so much that he wasn't recognizable. But then he tried to remember the last time his mom had actually looked him in the eyes with any emotion besides anger or disgust and he couldn't remember one.

"No wonder she doesn't know her own son," he muttered to himself.

Brandon noticed that the sun was starting to set, so he walked the rest of the way to the bar with a little more haste. As he got to the door, he noticed a different vibe right away.

Instead of dance music pumping out the doors, he heard a fiddle playing and lots of stomping. As he walked in, he saw a crowd of square dancers flipping and spinning around the dance floor. How the heck was he supposed to get to the bar without losing an eye? He stood for a minute and watched the couples do their thing, but when the song ended and they all turned to clap for the live band in the far corner, he took that opportunity and snuck to the back bar.

"There you are," Carlos called down the bar. "I was beginning to think you'd chickened out."

"Hey now," Brandon said, stowing his bag again. "Give me some credit. I ran into my mom on my way here."

"Whoa," Carlos said, walking over. "What happened? What did she say?"

"No, I mean I literally ran into her," Brandon clapped his hands together to show the impact. "She was on the phone and didn't even stop to look at me."

"Brandon, I'm sorry," Carlos' eyes were full of compassion.

"Don't worry about it," Brandon shook his head. "It was no different to how she treated me when I lived in the same house as her. Just caught me off guard is all."

"Yeah, okay," Carlos didn't sound like he believed Brandon at all. "I'll have Valentina start your burger. Do you need a beer tonight?"

"Nah," Brandon said. "I've been sober for 18 months, too. But I'll take a milkshake."

"You got it," Carlos said, walking over to the register to ring it in.

"Are you gonna let me pay tonight?"

"Nope," Carlos said, the vintage register chiming as the tab was rung out. "But once you get your first paycheck, I'll let you pay then."

"Oh, speaking of," Brandon said, digging in his bag for his new, old jacket. "You'll never believe what I bought today."

Carlos walked back over and inspected the jacket.

"Looks nice," he said approvingly. "That's a good brand, right? I think my daughter has that backpack."

"Yeah," Brandon replied. "They make backpacks, too. But look what was in the pocket."

Brandon held out the receipt. Carlos pulled out his reading glasses and looked at it. He looked over his glasses at Brandon, then back at the receipt.

"It's my old jacket," Brandon explained. "That receipt must be from one of the last times I came here before, well, you know."

"That's crazy," Carlos said, taking off his glasses and handing the receipt back to Brandon. "But where did you buy it?"