Mom stabs her pancakes with her fork, takes a bite, and chews slowly, innocently. Yeah, I’m not buying it.
“She stopped by the house to visit with Moe and me. Actually, we have teatime at least once a week. She’s such a dear girl.” Mom flips her gaze to Granny who nods in agreement.
I cross my arms, lean back in my chair, and take a good look at the two Judases. I was under the false assumption that blood was thicker than water. “Well, isn’t that just cozy. Did you swap recipes, paint each other’s toenails, or was it another laugh fest at the expense of my rooster?”
Will chokes on his orange juice, Granny gasps and clutches her chest, and Mom slams a hand on the table, making the dishes rattle.
“Well, I never! Cain Bennett, I did not raise you to speak about private parts over a perfectly pleasant breakfast.” Mom’s voice hits a loud whisper—you know that thing moms do when they want to holler, but act too dignified to actually let it rip. It’s eerily similar to a kid’s whisper, in that it’s not a whisper at all.
“I’m not the one who started the private part talk, am I, Mom? You and Mo did that. And now that Celia and me aren’t talkin’ and she’s spending time at the house, there’s no telling what you two are gonna let fly. You probably already told her about the lingerie section of the J.C. Penney catalog I had stashed under my bed.” I lean forward in my chair and groan when her lip twitches at my comment. “I don’t like her going over there.”
My words come out like a decree, but I don’t get the response I’m hoping for. Mom and Granny scoff in unison, and Will has become extremely interested in the plate in front of him.
“Just because you’re still grazing around town, spitting out cud willy-nilly doesn’t mean your momma has to follow your lead. You brought that sweet girl over here. You introduced her to us. If they’ve forged a friendship, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to deal with it,” Granny states matter-of-factly.
“I’m not grazing, Granny,” I say, shaking my head. I stand up and put my dishes in the sink. I turn and walk out of the kitchen, stopping for a moment at the doorway. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe Celia’s the cow and I’m the cud?”
I don’t wait for their response. I walk to the utility room and gather my tackle box and fishing pole. I load up the truck and wait for Will. I look up when I hear the screen door creak, and frown when I see Mom walking my way. She pulls down the tailgate of my truck and hoists herself up to sit. Her legs dangle carelessly as she leans back on her hands. She smiles at me, and her eyes soften to the point of melting.
“I love you, son.”
I huff and stare at the ground, cursing myself for not being able to stay mad at her for a full ten minutes. It’s been that way all my life.
“I love you, too.”
We sit in silence for a bit, and the warm Louisiana wind whips around us, feeling more like a heater than a breeze.
“There’s a fire in that girl. I see it plain as day, although she tries to hide it. We’re like-minded—she and I. It’s like looking into the mirror. There’s a war inside her heart, and you need to let her fight it.” Mom loops her arm with mine and scoots me closer to her. I lean against the tailgate, and she rests her head on my shoulder.
“How is she?”
I know the answer may burn me, but I can’t stop myself from asking. What if she’s happy without me? How will I feel if my absence hasn’t fazed her at all? It kills me to think our time together may not mean as much to her as it did to me. I just don’t believe it. What’s left may be in shambles, but it was genuine … and reciprocated. There was nothing plastic about our relationship. It was, however, painfully temporary.
“Hmm … she’s asking the same thing about you. She even checked in on Biz,” she giggles, rolling her eyes. “That girl has the same lost look in her eyes that I see in yours.”
A humorless laugh escapes me, and she squeezes my arm. “This is the way she wants it. She basically threw me out of her house. She uninvited me to her life. Did she explain what happened? Because I still don’t get it.”
“She didn’t … and if she did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she says softly, sounding more like an apology than a statement. “And she’s welcome at our home any time.”
“Nice.”
“Son, you and I are so blessed. We’re surrounded by people who love us and support us. Not everyone gets that, and, even if they do, many people lose it way too early in their lives. I’m not sure which category Celia fits in, but I can assure you, there’s emptiness there. I will not turn her away. You shouldn’t want me to.”
“You’re right,” I say on a sigh. Leave it to Mom to put everything in perspective. I only hope the day comes where Celia will count on me again, too.
Mom hops off the tailgate. “But I promise I’ll stay mum about your J.C. Penney catalog.” She breaks out into a feverish giggle and shakes her head. “Seriously, I can’t figure out what in the world you found enticing about old lady bras and girdles. You have to admit, it’s funny.”
I throw up the tailgate and wave her away with my hand. “I’m never gonna live that shit down. What can I say? Beggars can’t be choosers. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You have to make lemonade out of lemons—”
“Or porn out of Playtex?” She laughs.
“And you give me shit about private parts at the breakfast table? Seriously, woman, I need bleach for my ears. Isn’t there a rule about mothers using the word porn in front of their children? If there isn’t, there should be.”
Mom pats my cheek and shakes her head. “When have you ever known me to follow the rules?” She walks back to the house, barefoot and wild-haired. That’s my mom, carefree and full of fire. She looks back over her shoulder and smiles. “Give it time, Cain, she’ll find her fire. Be patient.”
Patience. Right. That’s never been my strong suit.
Adam meets us at the pond, and the fishing commences. He hasn’t caught one fish all morning, but he’s still got this dopey smile plastered on his face. It’s sickening, really.
According to Adam, the birds are singing, the bees are buzzing, the flowers are blooming, and whatever other happy horseshit he can conjure up. The truth of it is, Sara finally forgave his groveling ass, and he’s starry eyed in love. I’m happy for him, I am. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy—a more deserving family. It doesn’t mean I’m in the right headspace to watch it. The only thing warming my bed is Biz, and he’s way too fucking hairy for my taste. Don’t even get me started on his atrocious breath.
“Sara and the kids should be on the way to the movies by now. She took them to Alex’s art class this morning. Maybe I’ll call and see how things are going,” he says as he fishes his phone out of his pocket.
“Leave ‘em alone. They have your number. They’ll call if they need you. Plus, it’ll look like you don’t trust Sara if you call.” I grab his phone out of his hand before he can dial the number. His home screen is filled with Sara, Lily, and Gage’s laughing faces, all smushed together to fit in the picture. I hold the phone up and show it to Will. “Just in case you’re wondering, this is one of the first signs that a man has lost his balls.”
Adam grabs the phone away from me while Will howls with laughter. “Fuck y’all.” Adam scowls at both of us then turns his attention to the screen. And the dopey smile is back.
“Dude, I don’t know what to say. You’re just so … domesticated.” Will spits the word out of his mouth like it tastes disgusting on his tongue. I guess it does if you’re a nineteen-year-old college kid.
To me, the word tastes like apple pie, meat lover’s pizza, Mo’s homemade lasagna, and any other comfort food I can imagine. I’m just giving Adam a hard time, and if I’m being honest, my bitterness has come out to play. Jealousy feels like a cowboy’s blue jeans—way too fucking tight in all the wrong places. I’ve got to get out of this funk.