Two Weeks Later
As soon as I walk through the corridor of Portland International Airport, my eyes land on an obnoxious sign that reads, "Matthew Thompson," in big, bold letters. The sign is being held by a tall blonde woman next to a man rocking a beer belly, and a girl who looked to be my age.
I sigh as I grip the straps of my backpack tighter and walk towards them. The three wave and smile at me as if I'm here for a visit instead of the real morbid reason; I have no one else.
My mother cut off her family a long time ago, so I can't even tell you the name of my grandparents if you asked. My dad has one brother who lives somewhere in Europe, so he's out of question. My grandpa , on my dad's side, died four years ago and my grandma's in a nursing home, suffering from Alzheimer.
Basically; I have no one to call family. At least, not blood.
The only person I do have is my Godmother. Not blood, but better than nothing.
My mother's best friend, Laura Martinez, is my Godparent. She used to be like a second mom to me when I was younger and her two kids and I got along like siblings. Laura vowed if anything happened to my parents, she'd take me in as one of her own and my mom vowed the same thing for her kids. That was seven years ago before her and her family moved to Oregon. My mom and Laura talked everyday on the phone and sometimes visited each other, but I haven't seen her or her kids since.
The tall blonde holding the sign is Laura. She's the same age as my mom yet looks ten years younger like she could be on the cover of Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving. Though I haven't seen Laura's daughter, Kayla, in forever, I know the girl standing with Laura is her. And I have absolutely no clue who the beer belly man is. Last I saw, Laura's husband was Hispanic. This beer belly guy definitely isn't him.
"Matthew," Laura exclaimed as she shoved the sign into the hands of Beer Belly.
"You can just call me Matty," I tell her.
"Matty, right," And immediately I'm pulled into a hug. "I'm so sorry," she speaks softly to me. I swallow the lump in my throat and hug her back. She pulls away, but keeps her hands on my shoulders "how are you?"
How am I? "I just had to pack up my life and move to a different state to live with practically strangers because my parents died, how do you think I'm doing?" That's what I want to say to her. "I'm okay," is what I tell her instead.
Laura rubs my arms for comfort, giving me a sympathetic smile before letting me go. She turns to the girl who's been eyeing me ever since I stepped into her line of sight, "You remember my daughter, Kayla?"
Barely. But now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure she's a couple years younger than me. Though with all that make up, it's hard to tell. Nonetheless, I offer a small smile with an equally small wave, "yeah, hey."
"Hey," Kayla greets back.
Laura turns to Beer Belly, "And this is my husband, Jack." That's when it clicks as I remember my mother telling me how Laura divorced Mike, her kid's dad, after meeting Jack.
"Nice to meet you, Matthew," he extends his hand out to me. I accept the gesture and shake his hand.
"You'll see Julian when we get home," Laura tells me as we head towards the baggage claim.
YOU ARE READING
Something About Him
Teen Fiction[bxb] After a traumatic event, Mathew- or Matty as everyone calls him- moves into a family/friend's home; the Wilson's. Laura Wilson is his God Mother and she has two kids, Julian and Kayla who Matty hasn't seen for seven years. Matty used to best f...
