Claimed for Christmas

Chapter Four

‘I don’t know where I went wrong with you’ my mother steamrolls onward, changing direction so fast I think I might have whiplash, her voice now starting to waver dramatically and I can just imagine her clasping at her chest, eyes brimming with tears.

‘Was I that bad a mother? Did I hurt you somehow with something I said? Was I not supportive enough when you were a child? Is that why you hurt me with your indifference?’

I groan, rubbing my hand down my face, I’m hung over and exhausted and unable to field this right now which I’m pretty sure is why she’s rang me this early in the morning rather than later on when I’ve had a chance to wake up and prepare myself.

‘You were not a bad mother’ I reply resting my arm across the top of my head and looking up at the ceiling, ‘you know damn well that you weren’t.’

She really wasn’t you know, she was, and still is an amazing mother to both me and my brother, my father was awesome too, never one to hide his feelings like some men, he hugged us and told us he was proud of us every chance he got until his last breath.

It was due to this that I was never ‘in the closet’ as they say, I didn’t have to be because I knew my parents wouldn’t care, all they ever wanted was for me to be myself. Honestly, my mother and father knew pretty much as soon as I did that I liked hard defined muscles over soft hour glass figures, and they just accepted it in their stride, buying me posters of the boy bands that every girl lusted after to paper my room, whilst my brother covered his with football stars and scantily clad women on motorbikes.

There was no big reveal in my life, no pretending to like girls when I was really eyeing up the swim team in their spectacular trunks, all hail whoever invented speedos that’s all I can say! I never had to sit them down, take a deep breath, and confess my sexuality, I just always was . . . gay.

‘Elijah, are you even listening to me?’ my mother’s voice cuts through my wandering thoughts of those lean bodies in tight trunks from my college years, though if I’m honest, that wasn’t really my preferred flavour back then.

‘Elijah!’ my mother’s tone is sharp, making me jump as the phone slips from my fingers, falling toward the mattress, and bouncing on the springs.

I dive for the cell, grabbing it as it bounces off the mattress, heading for the floor as my fingers wrap around it and pull it back to safety. Pressing the device back to my ear, I gasp, calling out quickly, ‘What? Yes, of course I am.’

‘So? What did I just say?’ she demands sternly. S.hit! What did she just say?

‘Umm . . .’ I wince as she gasps theatrically no doubt clasping where should be a string of pearls, but more likely than not is an obnoxiously loud silk scarf with some sort of animal printed on it.

‘I knew you weren’t listening! You never do! Why do you hate me, Elijah? Was it because I wouldn’t buy you that Tinkerbell outfit when you were seven? They didn’t have it in your size! And they really weren’t built for little boys that took after their father in the downstairs department. . .’

‘Oh my God Mom! Really?’ I wince; I don’t want to know about my father’s junk!

‘You could have been any of the princesses!’ she continues over me, ‘I could have gotten you a lovely Belle costume . . .’

‘I couldn’t be Belle Mom, Elliott was Peter Pan for Halloween, I needed to be Tink to match him!’ I shout back, trying to be heard as she continues to rant about the other options I had.

‘You could have been Wendy! Or a lost boy’ my mother argues back, ‘there was a wonderful Captain Hook outfit that would have suited your slim figure so well.’

‘Captain Hook was a villain’ I gasp, ‘I could never have dressed up as him! And Wendy was boring, I . . .’ I cut myself off shaking my head as I blow out a steadying breath. ‘Mom’ I try again, ‘I’m not upset about the Tinkerbell costume, it’s been twenty years, I promise I do not hate you because I couldn’t be what is THE most awesome of magical fairies for Halloween.’

‘So, what you are saying is that you just don’t care’ my mother asks, her broken hearted voice back in play. ‘You are so resentful of your mother that you can’t even set aside a few days to visit her! It’s Christmas Elijah, the time for family and togetherness! I miss you! Since your dad passed away, it’s been so lonely here in this big house . . with only my memories to keep me company . . .’

She starts to sob down the phone, and I freeze, I never could withstand my mother’s waterworks, damn her, she knows exactly how to get what she wants.

‘I don’t even know if I can get the time off’ I falter reluctantly before I can stop myself, ‘it’s already the twenty first and others have booked time . . . I’m probably going to be needed to cover, I’ll most likely only have Christmas day off . . .’

‘But you could ask’ my mother blubbers back, ‘you could at least ask, for me . . . so I’m not alone . . . your father, God rest his soul, he left such a void . . . What if this is my last Christmas? I just want one last family gathering, is that really too much to ask? Just a few days out of your busy life . . .’

‘I suppose not . . .’ I sigh reluctantly.

‘Excellent’ Mom chirps, the crying stopping immediately as her usual cheery voice fills my ear once more. ‘Go and tell that Harrison man that you need a few days off either side of Christmas so you can come home. I’ve already made up your room for you, and I’ll dig out your Gigi’s gingerbread recipe, you know how much you love it! Let me know when you will be arriving, and I’ll send Elliott to pick you up from the airport.

‘Mom I . .’ I start my brain trying to catch up with what has just happened.

‘Love you Lijahberry’ mom calls over me, drowning me out, ‘can’t wait to see you! Travel safe!’

The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the receiver wordlessly, what the f***k just happened?

‘She played you . . again’ I mutter in defeat, damn you mother! I fall for it every damn time! When will I learn?

Dropping the cell onto the mattress, I groan loudly, knowing I’m f.ucked now, I have no choice but to ask for the time off, if I don’t I wouldn’t put it past my mother to ring Harrison herself to ask for me and I do not need that!

Shaking my head, I consider curling back underneath my covers, today is already a s.hit show and it’s not even seven am. Instead, I throw my covers off and stand up, heading for the bathroom. I need a shower to wash off last night’s club and then I need coffee, lots and lots of coffee so I can think of a way out of this corner my mother has backed me into.