“Like the play?” I asked, brow quirked.
“My parents were fond of pretentious sounding names. They thought class was predestined and a healthy handful of syllables could determine the status of a man.”
Hamilton Beauregard felt like a mouthful and completely contradicted his easygoing demeanor. “I’m Vera. It’s nice to meet you,” I choked out.
I had so many questions. Why didn’t I know about him? The wedding was rushed but not that rushed. There was plenty of time for Joseph to tell me about his younger brother.
“I’m a bit of an outcast around here. You won’t have to worry about seeing me at awkward Thanksgiving dinners or imagining me fucking some girl on Christmas morning. Most of the time, I’m working offshore on the rig. You know, there’s no money in politics. Dad has to hide his fortune and his youngest child in old oil money.” Hamilton laughed at his joke, but it didn’t feel funny. “I have twenty-one days off. Figured I’d see my big brother get married, though unsurprisingly, the invitation got lost in the mail.”
He lifted my cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip while staring out over the yard. I didn’t comment on the fact that he was drinking my coffee. “Offshore?” I asked.
“I’m a tool pusher on an oil rig,” he replied.
That explained why I’d never met him. He was constantly gone. “Cool,” I replied, not really knowing what to say. I knew as much about his career as I knew about him—nothing.
“It pays the bills,” he said with a grin before handing me back my cup of coffee. “Plus, it keeps me out of the public eye.” He winked, like I was somehow a part of some secret I actually knew nothing about.
“I-is that a good thing?” I asked.
Hamilton leaned a little closer. The morning light made it look like he had flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes. “I have a habit of fucking things up.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Last night, I plowed a woman whose name I can’t remember while staring at my new niece,” he whispered with a secret smile I felt in my gut. Yep. I supposed that was fucked up.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s agree to never bring that back up.”
“Fair enough,” he replied before licking his lips. Despite barely knowing him, I surmised that Hamilton was inherently sexual. More time passed, and hot tension built between us. My skin pebbled as we stared at one another. “I should get going,” he finally said. “Things usually go to shit when my brother and I spend too much time together.”
“And whose fault is that?” I asked, my question surprisingly bold. I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe I was looking for validation that my mother’s new groom wasn’t a good person.
“Usually mine,” Hamilton answered before standing up and smoothing his shirt. “See you around, Vera.”
He winked at me, then walked down the deck’s steps and headed toward a parked motorcycle in the distance.
The sound of the back door opening drew my attention away from Hamilton, and I turned to greet my mother, pleased that I no longer had to navigate this awkward conversation with my u-uncle and that she had remembered our breakfast date this morning. Thank fuck Hamilton left before she woke up. I didn’t want to explain how we’d met the night before. “Hey, baby,” she greeted while adjusting her lavender robe and settling in the cushioned chair beside me.
My mother looked tired. Her brown hair was still curled from her updo the night before, and her smeared lipstick had stained the skin at the corner of her mouth. She slowly sipped her drink, and my eyes zeroed in on the glimmering rock on her left hand.
“I was worried you’d forget,” I admitted.
“I could never forget you,” she replied with a sigh. “Though I was moving very slow this morning. Perhaps an open bar was a bad idea, hmm?” she teased, her voice like a pack of cigarettes and church bells. I laughed. I hadn’t seen her touch a drop of alcohol in a while. I eyed her stomach, trying to see the evidence of a pregnancy, but saw nothing.
Every Sunday, for as long as I could remember, my mother and I did this. We sat outside on our patio and drank coffee. Sometimes we chatted about life. Sometimes we sat in silence.
“I saw the pregnancy test, Mom,” I admitted. “I’m happy for you. You don’t have to keep it from me.”
“You know?” she asked, shocked. Mom turned to face me with a grin. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you yet. It’s been a lot of change for you, baby. It’s been killing me, not telling you.”
I set my cup down and reached out to grab her hand. “I’m happy for you. But we never have secrets.”
Mom sighed. “You’ve always been more of a friend than a daughter. Hell, I don’t even have any friends. I had to ask Colleen to be a bridesmaid, and I don’t even like the bitch. She’s too nosy.” I cleared my throat. Colleen certainly didn’t mind being a bridesmaid when Hamilton was balls deep inside of her. “It’s always been you and me against the world, baby. I just feel guilty. This child is going to have all the things I couldn’t give you. A father. A consistent home. It won’t need toys from the bargain bin or goodwill clothes. I’m not going to have to work three jobs or worry where rent is coming from. I can’t help but feel sad that this baby is going to get a completely different version of me than you did.” She held her stomach and looked off at the tree line in the distance for a moment. “Heck, I’m about to have a honeymoon in Paris. You’ve never even been on an airplane.”
My heart panged. The different upbringing this child would have was something I’d thought about ever since I saw the test. “I like my version of you,” I lied. “And I want you to be happy. You deserve this, Mom.” This baby might not have the same upbringing as I did, but Mom had earned the right to have a happy little family. This was just another pitstop on the road to accepting our new normal.
“You’re too good to me,” she whispered, her green eyes sparkling with emotion. “It’s still us. You and me. We just have a little more help. I l-love Joseph. I really, really do. Promise. He’s a good man. I adore him. He’s going to pay for your college. He wants me to see the world. He buys me anything I want. I know the two of you haven’t really had a chance to get to know one another, but he cares about you. He’s really excited for you to attend his alma mater. Jack attended there too, you know. It’s somewhat of a family tradition.”
Had Hamilton attended there?
I forced a smile. I didn’t want to attend the pretentious Greenwich University. Up until Mom and Joseph started dating, I had dreams of attending Brooklyn College for Social Work. My entire high school class catalogue was cultivated with the hope of getting a scholarship so I could attend. I knew that Greenwich University was a greater opportunity than I could have ever hoped to achieve. The tuition cost more than most people’s homes, and only the most elite students attended. It was intimidating to think about, but once the engagement was announced, Joseph informed my mother and me that it would be better for everyone if I attended Greenwich, as it was close to home and more respectable for our family legacy. I didn’t even know what that meant, considering I didn’t feel part of the family.