Almost Easy

Brian and I found ourselves on the front porch of the Brody house. It was tiny and you’d almost swear it was abandoned. They were a family that danced on the line of poverty but you’d never have guessed it by looking at them. As long as I’d known them, Ty had never gone without anything he needed. They always had ample food in the fridge and Ty always had new clothes and working guitars.
Tom opened the door and looked, unlike my aunt, pleased to see me standing on the other side.
“Well hello there,” he smiled.
“Hey,” I said sheepishly.
He opened the door wider to allow us entry into his home. He lead us into the kitchen where we sat at the small circular table. I hoped Brain didn’t judge them for the copious amounts of unwashed dishes scattered across their counter and spilling up and out of the sink. He didn’t seem to even notice.
“Margie is outside,” Tom told us. “Give me one second and I’ll go grab her.”
He disappeared out the back door that nearly fell off its hinges as it closed. It was strange to be back in their house. It had hardly changed at all; except the mess. That was new. But given the circumstances, totally justified.
“Get ready,” I warned Brian with a smirk.
He was just about to question my remarkably vague caution when Marge burst through the door, already shrieking at me—and effectively at Brian.
“B!” she shouted, extending her arms and making me rise from my chair to hug her.
This family was way too hug-y.
“Who’s this?!” she asked excitedly, giving Brian the once over.
“This is Brian,” I smiled proudly.
This was closer to bringing the boyfriend home to the parents than the actual event had been. This was my family. This was the reaction I wanted.
Brian rose to his feet, towering over tiny Marge. Her face lit up at the realization of who this guy was to me.
“Brian!” she shouted. “Come here!”
She pulled him into her and squeezed him tightly. I couldn’t help but giggle. Sometimes, apparently, I was a girl.
“Aren’t you just a tall drink of water,” she grinned at him once she’d released him from her falcon grip. “I’m so happy to meet you!”
Tom finally entered the kitchen, he was taller than Brian. He and his wife were hilarious standing next to each other.
“Who do we have here?” Tom asked suspiciously, seemingly ignoring his wife’s declaration.
“Honey, this is Brian,” she told him. “He’s our Blair’s boyfriend!”
She exaggerated the word boyfriend so hard that I almost forgot that I was an adult.
“Tom,” he said as he shook Brian’s hand.
“We’ve never met any of B’s boyfriends,” Marge cooed as she sank into the chair next to me. “You must be special.”
“Margarete,” I warned under my breath.
Brian smiled, waiting until Tom had sat down to seat himself again.
“So?” Marge sighed happily. “What’s up?”
“We’ve been to see the Queen Bitch,” I smirked.
“Was she nice?” Marge asked knowingly.
“She was her usual self,” I laughed with a shrug.
“That woman, I swear,” Marge groaned.
“We tried to adopt this one a couple times,” Tom told Brian. “The Master wouldn’t release her.”
“The Master,” Brian repeated with a snort.
“Never had to be legal,” Marge added. “She’s our daughter. Doesn’t matter what anyone says.”
She winked at me.
The lull in conversation at that literal second seemed to spark Marge’s host-instincts. She shot up out of her chair and scurried over to the cabinets.
“How rude of me,” she giggled. “Does anyone want anything? Tom just made coffee a few minutes ago. So, it’s fresh!”
“Yes please,” I replied simply.
“Brian?” she asked, already fetching four mugs.
“Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”
Since Brian’s back was to her and she and I had optimal view of one another, she took the opportunity to nod approvingly at me, mouthing ‘he’s a fox!’ at me excitedly. I tried not to smile and blow our cover. She poured four cups of coffee and set them on the table before grabbing cream and sugar.
“Help yourselves,” she said to the table as she scooped sugar into her cup.
“Last night went well, huh?” Tom asked as he sipped his black coffee.
I nodded, “I think so.”
“I’m so happy you came,” Marge smiled at me, reaching over to put her hand on mine. “It was much easier to get through it with you there.”
Her comment wasn’t really something I could reply to, so I just smiled—busying my mouth with coffee then instead of saying something stupid.
“When do you both go back home?” Tom asked, effectively changing the mood.
“Tonight,” I said lamely.
“Did she take you around her old stomping grounds?” Tom asked Brian curiously. “She and our boy used to terrorize the town.”
“I can imagine,” Brian smirked. “They terrorized California too.”
“The whole state?” Marge giggled. “They upped the ante, Tom!”
“How did you two meet?” Tom asked, changing the mood again.
I sipped at my coffee, scalding my lips; I bit at my bottom lip to remedy the sting.
“It’s Tyler’s fault,” I smirked. “He made me go to a music festival.”
“He did love festivals,” Marge lamented.
I nodded, “We met someone there that Tyler seriously loved. Basically, I only know Brian because of a couple of intricately placed coincidences.”
Marge and Tom both looked confused. Brian knew how we met; he knew every detail of the day leading up to our first interaction. But I’d never said it in such a way where it made me realize how truly lucky that day had been. If Ty had never encouraged me to attend the festival, or disappeared for a bit with those random girls, I never would have met Jimmy. If I hadn’t met Jimmy, I wouldn’t have been invited to the party. You know what I’m saying?
I looked at Brian who looked more like Fate in that particular moment. He was grinning at me like an idiot. I assumed he’d had the same epiphany.
“We met at a party,” I explained more simply. “A party that Tyler insisted we attend.”
“It was a good party,” Brian smirked.
“I love that,” Marge swooned.
“So, you knew our son then?” Tom asked carefully. “Before…”
Brian nodded, “We met a couple of times. I didn’t get to really know him unfortunately. But I feel like I knew him…you know, through Blair’s stories.”
I felt really dumb then. I’d nearly neglected the punchline.
“Oh my lanta,” I laughed mostly to myself. “Get this.”
Tom and Marge looked at me confusedly.
“Brian,” I said with a smile, “is Synyster Gates.”
It usually didn’t matter who Brian was in the sense of his musical alter ego. People either recognized and knew him as Brian or as Synyster; it usually didn’t affect the other. But in this case, Tyler had talked about Synyster Gates so fucking much that Tom and Marge were both familiar with the guitarist.
They were stunned.
“No way,” Marge finally said with a chuckle. “Our son was convinced you were a god.”
“I am,” Brian grinned.
“He must have been so excited to meet you!” Marge put her hand to her cheek, shaking her head in disbelief. “How great is that.”
I tried not to let my face show that Marge’s excitement was misplaced. Ty had only been happy to meet Brian before he’d pieced together that Brian held any interest in me. They didn’t need to know about Ty’s disproval about mine and Brian’s relationship. It wasn’t important to them.
Brian was intelligent and so he just nodded.
“Synyster Gates,” Marge repeated lustily. “That’s great.”
“He’s going to be taking over for Ty,” I watched my tone carefully. “On the tour.”
Marge’s eyes started to well up. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Tyler had been looking so forward to the tour…by mentioning the need to replace him, I’d made it clear again that he was gone.
“I’m sorry,” she laughed, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her palms.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered embarrassedly.
She waved me off frantically, “No, no. It’s not that. I just think that’s it wonderful. What a wonderful way to honor Ty. I’m sure he would have loved your choice.”
No he wouldn’t have.
I smiled and nodded.
“So Brian,” Tom interrupted before shit got too wild. “how long have you been playing guitar?”
Brian thought about it for a second, “A long time. I started when I was a kid.”
“It shows,” Tom chuckled. “I’ve heard some of your stuff. It’s pretty good.”
“Do you play?” Brian asked curiously, taking his first sip of his coffee.
Tom shook his head, “Nah. That’s my brother’s thing. He’s the one that taught Tyler how to play.”
“You’ll have to introduce Brian to him one day,” Marge told me.
“Did you grow up in California?” Tom asked.
“Easy on the interrogation,” I laughed.
Brian didn’t seem to mind.
“Yes, sir,” Brian nodded once.
“I couldn’t live there,” Tom said seriously. “It’s too hot all the time.”
“I know,” Brian smirked. “It’s great.”
Tom looked at me and pointed a finger, “I told you not to pick up any California men.”
I raised my hands up, cringing, “I didn’t mean to.”
Marge giggled, slapping at her husband playfully, “Leave her alone!”
“You a good guy?” Tom turned his attention back to Brian with a suspicious eyebrow raised.
Brian looked seriously uncomfortable, “I think so. I try to be.”
Tom looked back at me, “He good to you?”
“If I say yes, will you stop being weird?” I laughed.
Tom nodded.
“He’s good.”
“Alright then,” Tom relented. “Blair is our only child left. I need to make sure she’s being taken care of, you know?”
“Yes, sir,” Brian said again, looking eased.
Conversation moved past Brian’s intentions and into more friendly topics like our plans for the rest of the day and what the band was up to before we had to leave for tour. Marge said she was going to fly out to visit me at some point once I was back from my gallivant around the country. I chose to ignore how far into the future that would put her in my home.
“I’m happy to fly you out whenever you want,” I told her seriously.
She looked embarrassed, “No, no. It’s not about money. Just need to find time off of work, you know?”
It was about money. It wasn’t about work. But I was polite and I loved her so I went along with her lie. I wondered if Brian hadn’t been there if she would have been more open about their inability to afford a trip to California. Maybe I could somewhere work it out that a flight would be a gift. I was sure that would offend them though.
“I have a place for you to stay then,” I forced a smile. “Offer is good whenever.”
Tom had decidedly taken Brian in as his comrade. They were monopolizing the conversation with talk about family and Brian’s parents. I was trying to listen in to get a good feel up what I’d be facing at some point but Margarete wanted to talk about other things. So, I had to obviously yield to her.
“Excuse us,” Marge announced as she pulled herself and me to our feet. “I want to show Blair the garden before they have to go.”
The men nodded dismissively and then went back to talking about classic cars. I truly did not care about classic cars.
Once we were outside, I took the opportunity to light a cigarette. Marge went to scold me out of habit but considering she’d smoked a pack last night, she was in no juncture to give me shit.
“Girl talk,” she said to me with a giggle. “He’s very cute.”
I nodded and followed her down to the little garden tucked away in the back of her yard, “I know.”
“He seems nice,” she told me happily. “Is this the boy that you and Ty fought about?”
“He would be the one, yep,” I replied sadly.
She shrugged, “You know Ty. He would have gotten over it. He has our approval anyway, if that matters.”
“You know it matters,” I said seriously.
“You must really like him to have brought him home,” she noted curiously, eying me up for any facial clues.
My cheeks burned hot, “I think I might love him.”
She looked completely taken aback. She sort of blinked at me, her jaw ajar in disbelief.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that,” she managed breathily.
I bit at my lip, “I’ve never been in love with anyone before.”
“Oh, honey,” she smiled.
“He’s different than other guys,” I told her because I knew she was interested. “He’s really sweet and he’s really fucking smart. He loves music and he’s just…he’s arrogant but not in an in-your-face kind of way? Everything he does, Marge; I’m telling you. Everything he does makes me weak.”
She was transparently thrilled, “I’m so happy for you. You deserve love and all that it brings with it.”
“It’s too early, right?” I asked with an awkward laugh. “We’ve only been dating for like…a month. That’s too early.”
She shook her head, “Nope. I told Tom after three days.”
“Three days?” I choked.
“Three days!” she repeated amusedly. “We’ve been together ever since. Sometimes you just know.”
“Well how do you know if they love you back?” I asked curiously as Marge picked at the petals of a small red rose.
She smiled up at me, “They follow you to Massachusetts.”

Notes

She's got a fair point.

You know the drill.
xx