Me: I want to take you away for the weekend. Are you free or working?
Breigh: Free.
Me: Pack your bag. I want you to meet my mother in Houston. You up for it?
Breigh: If I get that horse ride, I’m in.
Me: So you’re going for the horses?
Breigh: Not just the horses…
Me: Glad to hear it, baby. I’ll be there a little after 4 to get you.
Breigh: If you can make it 4:30, I’ll be ready. xoxo.
I sent my mother a quick text, letting her know I’d be driving down tonight and would have Breigh with me. She was thrilled and ecstatic that Dad was away for the next two weeks, conveniently. Cash hadn't stopped by since Dad was gone, and that was a relief.
My mom hated to see her sons fight, but it wasn't the first or the last time. She, more often than not, was on my side during the altercations. Clearly, she sided with the correct person.
I had never taken a girl home, and certainly wouldn't have thought about it this soon. My mother was excited and was convinced that Breigh was the one. I couldn't argue with her at this point, I had the same feeling.
BREIGH
As soon as we pulled up to Wyatt’s family’s house, my mouth dropped. He wasn't kidding when he said his family was wealthy. I have never seen a house so big that you had to go through a gate before entering.
“Are you ready for this?” Wyatt turned to ask me, placing his hand on mine.
“Of course, I’m ready. I can’t wait to meet your mother.”
“Just remember what I said, she isn't the same person right now that she was when I was growing up.”
“All I care about is that she is kind to you.”
“She is now.”
“Here goes nothing. Wait, Wyatt, what about the entire scenario with Cash?”
“He isn't here.”
“But she knows. What if she hates me because of it?”
“I have already talked to her. She knows what happened, and she knows Cash. She isn't blaming you for that, at all. And she has talked to Rhonda, so she is angrier with me that I didn't nip it in the bud and solve the issue from the get-go, rather than letting it get so far out of hand.”
“But…”
“But nothing, baby.”
I took a deep breath, waiting for him to make his way to me.
He walked around and opened the door for me, taking my hand and not letting go. Wyatt led us in through the huge front door made with a material I had never seen. Nothing in here was cheap.
“You okay?” He turned to ask me and I shook my head yes.
“Don’t worry so much about me. I’m fine.” And I was. But I wasn't going to dare tell him I had never been in a home so insanely large. I was trying to control my eyes so they didn't look like they were going to pop out of my head.
“Wyatt, your right on time!” His mom came around the corner, from what I assumed was the kitchen, and met him with a big hug. I looked down the entryway’s large hall that had the shiniest white ceramic tile I had ever seen. I doubted dirt had ever met it. Above the grand entryway, a large crystal chandelier hung catching the light from the large window that displayed the décor.
“Breigh this is my mother, Virginia.” Wyatt said.
“And this must be Breigh. I’ve heard so much about you.” She hugged me sweetly, holding on tightly.
“Nice to meet you,” I returned.
As she pulled back from me I observed her beauty, and how well put together she was. Her hair seemed to be in place, her face flawless, with a blouse and riding pants on. She could have posed for a magazine and turned heads, causing people to stare.
“When you get done showing her around the house and grounds, I would love to ride with y’all. I’ll have John tack the horses up for us.”
“Okay, Mom, give us about half an hour.” Wyatt put his hand on the small of my back and led me through the house, the mansion.
Room after room, they all had similar qualities: designer, sterile, museumish. I felt like I needed to put my hands in my pockets to not touch anything or damage something far more expensive than I could ever afford to replace. A few pictures of the boys or the family were displayed, only a few in very expensive frames that took away from the innocence or love that the family could have had. Various rugs decorated the same ceramic tile throughout, without any room having carpet like a normal house would have.
He led me to his room last, up the wide stairs with a railing that was polished profusely. I walked in, unsure how a boy felt at home in there. It was void of personality. Nothing like how Wyatt’s house was now. Maybe it wasn't a mansion, with designer décor, but it was every bit a home.
I’d take that any day over this.
“Was it decorated for your age as you grew up? You know the sports themes, etc? Girls hanging on the wall, that sort of thing?”
He started laughing. I took a seat on his bed and observed. “My dear mother wouldn't have had that.”
“Really?”
“Really. You look surprised.”
He sat beside me, pulling me onto his lap.
“Thank you for coming here with me.”
“I love it. Certainly not something I’m used to, but I do love it.” I kind of hesitated holding back my thoughts. Was I good enough?
“Not what you expected?”
“To say the least. Wyatt, the things I love about you just don't fit with this life. You are so warm, and when I think about you, I think of home. You’re the person I want to be with. This place just seems so…”
“White?”
“Yes, but it doesn't have all the little touches that a house needs to make a home.”
“I know. I
