“Well,” said Lizbeth, sitting down and watching Red as she did so, “you know what mom’s going to say.”
“Tell me,” Red said coldly, “because you and she are so much alike.”
She sat, gazing up at him, her gaze getting just as cold. “I’m only warning you. You had to bring him to create tension in this house.”
“I’m not the tense one. And you don’t see me hanging all over him, do you? Not like you were with your boyfriends of what, one month? Sometimes one week.”
“You’ve obviously been listening to Mandy,” she said, ostentatiously. “She’s the one with the revolving door. I haven’t had a boyfriend in months.”
Meanwhile the other woman was glaring daggers at Red. Red gave back as good as she got, and she finally looked down. “Who are you?” asked Red.
“My friend,” Lizbeth said. “Just a friend.”
“Then if you can bring a friend, I don’t see why I can’t bring mine,” Red said.
“Yes, but I don’t sleep with my friends.”
“You should try it sometime.” Red stormed from her and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and sticking his head in it before he said other things he could regret. He found two bottles of beer, and opened them.
The tension in the room was thick, and Red refused to leave it. So did Lizbeth, so the two of them stayed in the room, neither of them leaving, while Red glanced outside to see Brixl and his father talking.
Then the porch door opened and a brood of kids ran in. “Uncle Red!” yelled a little girl at seeing him.
“Hey, Nikki!” He bent down and hugged the little girl.
She squirmed in his arms. “We’re playing hide and seek—“
“Outside!” someone yelled, and the tribe of kids ran through the living room to the front door and out of it. Nikki got out of his hold and dashed to follow the kids.
He smiled, watching her go. “She’s gotten big.”
“Hmph,” snorted Lizbeth. “You noticed.”
“What is she into now?”
“Justin Beiber.”
“Are you kidding?”
Lizbeth turned around to face him. “When you have kids, you can introduce them to Liberace.”
Red slammed the bottle down, and Lizbeth smirked, turning slowly back to her friend. She started talking about the weather while Red stormed out of the kitchen. He got to the living room, and his cousins made space for him.
Here, he was welcomed. Here, they asked about Brixl, about his time in Afghanistan, and what they were doing in Detroit. He relaxed with the beer in his system. He then felt someone touch his shoulder and saw that it was Brixl. Red smiled at him, handing him his beer. “Thanks,” he said.
“How did it go?”
Brixl only smiled. He kept his hand on Red’s shoulder. The cousins then started peppering him with questions. Where did they meet? What were the Marines like? Where was he stationed? What did he do?
Brixl answered, and was in the middle of one of his stories when the front door opened and the door banged shut. Brixl stopped, the entire room did too, and they all turned to face the door.
A tall woman with gray hair and dark brown eyes stood just inside the door. She was carrying a large messenger bag, and wore a gray sweater along with a dark shirt accented with a silver necklace and black slacks. She wore pumps, and looked like she was dressed for church.
She was frowning when she walked in, her eyes fixed on Brixl, and then Red rose from the couch. “Hi, mom.”
“Hello, Steven,” she said. It was just barely on the edge of frigid. “You’re new,” she said to Brixl.
“This is Breno,” Red said.
Brixl held his hand out. “Brixl to my friends,” he said.
Red’s mother looked at the outstretched hand, at Brixl, and then at Red. She raised her eyebrows, looking again at the hand.
“Steven, would you be a dear and take this for me?” She held out the messenger bag. She was still looking at Brixl’s hand, and he finally withdrew it. Red went around the couch. He touched Brixl’s arm, giving him a look of compassion, as his mother stood, waiting. He walked over to her, taking the bag. It was heavier than he thought.
She started walking around the corner to a set of stairs, and Red followed. “Ma,” he said, when he got to the top of the stairs. She kept going into her bedroom. Red sighed and kept going. “Ma.”
“I thought,” she said with a quiet anger, “that the invitation was a mistake.”
“Ma, what makes you think I would have—“
“It came from your sister,” she said, whirling around. “I never know if she’s sending us artwork or something – “ she waved her hands around, and turned from Red. “I can’t believe this. I have to see you with, with…”
“A man?” Red’s Irish temper flared. “Well, get used to it. We’re going to be married, with or without your permission.”
“A black man,” she blurted, almost in tears.
Red started, his jaw dropping. “You can’t be serious. You can’t – you’re mad about that?”
“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.”
He had heard that line throughout his growing up, and he refused to believe it anymore. “Disappointed? You’re going to be really disappointed for a long time, then. Get. Used. To. It.”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” she cried, and burst into tears.
He had also learned that tears were her way of trying to get him to feel sorry. He refused. And he decided then that he wasn’t going to leave the house, since the majority of the people there didn’t have a problem with Brixl – it was only two bigots who did. Well screw them, he thought, pivoting and walking out.
“Don’t you dare –“
He shut the door for good measure.
He stood outside the door, smiled for a moment and muttered, “Damn, that felt good.”