Counting Minutes | Gay MxM |

39. A Good Mess

"How do I look?" I asked, feeling nervous again when I stepped away from Blake.

"You look amazing," he said with a tender glimmer in his eyes. "Julia will think so too."

I took a deep breath in hopes of getting rid of some of my nervousness, but it didn't help as well as I hoped. "What if I freak out?"

"Then I'll help you to calm down," he promised.

"But then I can't talk to her," I said, and the thought of it made it harder for me to breathe again.

"Baby, please, just calm down – it's not the end of the world if you get overwhelmed," he tried to reason with me, but I had never been fully in control of my own mind, so I couldn't be reasoned with.

So, it was probably the first time ever, when the time itself came to my rescue. I heard a hesitant knock on my door, and I forgot all about my insecurities, and instead, I could only think about the fact that my mother was standing right outside of my door.

"I'll stay right here if you need me," he said, and I took his hand in mine for a moment. Then, I gave him a smile and squeezed his hand before I let go of it. I took a moment to gather all my courage, so I could walk to the door.

Those steps to the door seemed longer and harder than ever, and I had to stop once to let my nerves cool down. I couldn't believe I was so nervous. I already saw her face-to-face! This should've been much easier this time!

I breathed in a couple for times, before I continued walking to the door. When I stopped in front of it, I felt a little dizzy, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I pressed my hand on the door. "Mom?" I spoke, gathering the courage to open it.

"I'm here, honey," Mom replied with a happy voice. "I'm alone this time."

"Okay," I spoke, feeling bad about not being able to see my sisters, but I was also glad that it was just her this time. Maybe it would be easier to see them one at a time. "I'll... I'll open the door in a minute. I just need some time..."

"I understand," my mother said. "Do you... want to talk?"

"That would be great," I smiled. "How was your day?"

"Mine was nothing out of the ordinary, but you had a big day today," she spoke, and I could hear her excitement through the sturdy door.

"I did?" I chuckled. "I don't think it's my birthday."

"Might as well be!" she giggled. "You sold a painting today!"

"Really?" I asked in surprise. "Which one?"

"The one with mountains and waterfalls – one of your dad's customers fell in love with it – and guess what? She paid eight hundred dollars for it!"

My eyes shot right open. I was sure I misheard her. "What?"

"Yes! Eight hundred! I'll transfer the money in your bank account as soon as I can, so you can buy whatever you want with it," Mom said cheerfully. "I always knew that people would love to have your art."

"Mom, I don't want the money," I said. "You keep it."

"I can't do that!" she gasped. "It's your money!"

"Consider it as my rent or something," I said. "I think it's time for me to start paying for my living."

"But – but, I can't take money from you," Mom tried to protest, but I refused to take no for an answer.

"Of course you can. I'm an adult now, and I can't leave this place yet, so we need to keep this house," I spoke sternly. "This is my home too, and I want to do something to help."