9.
Jewel is going to become a politician. She just gave me an in-depth explanation of what happens to someone after they die, including the cause for ‘rigor tortoise.’ I tried to correct her and let her know that it’s really ‘rigor mortis,’ but her argument was so convincing I’m no longer sure which one of us is right.
Clem Forrester
ZIGGY
To my surprise, when Brooklyn and Jewel arrived at the breakfast table I’d reserved, neither seemed the least bit uncomfortable about last night. That made me wonder, especially after Jewel’s comment toward Brooklyn, if anything like that had ever happened with them before.
Apparently, one of Jewel’s other skills was mind reading. “Stop imagining the two of us naked together, Nip. That’s not something you’re ever going to witness.”
“As much as I’m afraid to ask this, has it ever happened before with anyone else?”
Brooklyn answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “We have a list of possibilities, but the opportunity hasn’t arisen. If it does . . .”
“If any of them do, I’ll rip your clothes off myself,” Jewel promised.
I glanced at Dal and saw his mouth fall open in shock, his eyes lighting up as the realization hit. He asked the very question sitting on the tip of my tongue: “Who’s on the list, and how do you make the cut?”
“Singing ability is important, sexual attraction needs to be off the charts, and . . .”
“Give me the list for comparison’s sake,” I ordered.
“George Strait,” Jewel said.
“Harry Connick Jr.,” Brooklyn countered.
“Chris Stapleton.”
“Jamey Johnson.”
As the women traded names of famous musicians and actors–some old enough to be their fathers or grandfathers–Dal and I looked from one to the other like spectators at a tennis match.
“Dwight Yoakam.”
“All three Hemsworths.”
“Sam Elliott.”
“Rip.”
“No!” Brooklyn gasped.
“Not Booker! Not only would I kill him, but Trinity would try to kill me.”
“She might be able to get it done.”
“Maybe if it was you she was after.”
Brooklyn scoffed, leaning forward to look Jewel dead in the eye. “Bird Forrester.”
Jewel gasped in horror. “No! That’s just . . . what is wrong with you?”
“Sorry. Not sorry.”
“Who is Bird Forrester?” Dal asked.
“My brother-in-law!” Jewel shuddered.
“Heath Forrester,” Brooklyn added.
“Brooklyn! Stop it! You’re gonna make me puke!”
“Who is . . .”
“Smokey Forrester,” Brooklyn interrupted.
“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” Jewel threatened.
“I’ve got one. Bird and Clem Forrester. At the same time.”
“What is wrong with you?”
Brooklyn kept rattling off names, each one making Jewel more horrified, and when the phone at her elbow started buzzing, she didn’t even seem to hear it. Because I didn’t want the entertainment to end, I reached over, picked up the phone, and put it to my ear.
I was shocked when a woman asked, “Whose ear is that?”
Another woman said, “Jewel, girl, you’ve got sideburns. You need a wax.”
I pulled the phone away from my face, looked at the screen, and saw four women staring back at me.
I hadn’t just answered a call; I’d answered a FaceTime chat.
And because I knew how Jewel talked to her friends, I knew these women would love to hear, or better yet join, the argument Jewel and Brooklyn were entertaining us with.
“Brooklyn and Jewel are discussing . . . well, originally it was about who they’d be willing to have a threesome with, and. . .”
“Definitely Chris Stapleton. Hands down,” one of the women said.
“But now they’re talking about Forresters and . . .”
“Ew. Gross,” another woman scoffed.
“Let us weigh in,” a third woman suggested.
As I turned the screen around, Brooklyn shouted, “Lout Hamilton.”
“You shut your face!” one of the women on the screen yelled. “No. We will not be going there.”
“Who is Lout?” Dal asked.
“My other brother-in-law,” Jewel ground out as she glared at Brooklyn. “I’m feeling very twinnish all of a sudden, Brooklyn.”
“Oh, no, you do not.”
To the tune of an old nursery rhyme, Jewel sang, “Ro, Ro, Ro my little man in the boat, and fuck me ‘til I scream. Merrily, merrily . . .”
“I regret not running you over with my truck when we were in high school,” Brooklyn snapped.
“Bitch, please. You didn’t have the balls then because you knew . . .”
“That you’d stand up, pop your neck like your undead brethren, and then lurch down the street chasing after me like the walking dead?” Brooklyn interrupted.
“These women are nuts!” Dal murmured in a conspiratorial whisper as the women at the table bickered, still not realizing four more were yelling through the phone.
“Grunt!”
“You evil hag,” Jewel growled.
At the same time, a woman on the phone yelled, “That’s my grandpa!” while another shouted, “Don’t bring my dad into this!”
“They’re all certifiable, and honestly, I’m not sure which one is the worst.”
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Dal asked with a grin. “Well, my friend, you’ve always had a type.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I muttered quietly so I didn’t disturb the two women at the table or the four yelling through the phone. As Jewel snatched it out of my hand and thrust it toward Brooklyn, I shook my head and said, “Don’t answer that.”
“When the rest of your family gets to know her, the real her, not the face she puts on to make a good impression but the one we’re seeing right now, every one of them will see it too. Even better, your kids are gonna love her.”
“We’re not quite there at this point, and we might never be.”
Dal laughed, then brought a closed fist to his mouth and coughed, using the same trick we’d relied on in high school when we didn’t want to get written up for swearing. Cough. “Bullshit!” Cough.
“You realize I’m your boss now, right?”
“We haven’t ironed out the details for sure yet, but keep that positive attitude, my friend.”
“Well,” I winced, clearing my throat before continuing. “About that. I think we came to an agreement last night. Someday, after our team has taken multiple championships in a row and someone decides to do a documentary on us, it’s going to make one hell of a story.”
“This I’ve gotta hear.”
I looked at my friend with genuine curiosity. “Do you know how to make a bomb?”
“I thought you got out of that side of the family business.”
I laughed, tipping my tea glass toward him. “I thought I did, too, but apparently, I’ve got a type.”
◆◆◆
I watched Jewel move around the hotel room in her underwear, talking on the phone to her first husband while she gathered her things and picked out her clothes for the day.
As I studied her movements, I thought about how comfortable we’d become with each other in the last few days.
Other than when I had business to take care of, we hadn't spent any time apart. I’d even taken her and Brooklyn on the usual sightseeing missions around the city and added a few things I thought were more representative of my home.
We’d spent time with my family, tried some of my favorite restaurants, stopped in at bakeries I loved for desserts and pastries, and explored shops for souvenirs.
I took the two women on a few of the regular sightseeing trips, too, but with my own flair.
Instead of waiting in long lines to see the Statue of Liberty, I chartered a boat and took them into the harbor for dinner and a nighttime tour so they could take in the city lights and the statue glowing after dark.
And then, after the adventures of the day, I’d accompany Jewel back to the hotel, where we spent every free minute in bed.
Each night proved just as eye-opening and adventurous as the first two, which amazed me.
I wasn’t exactly known for a lengthy attention span when it came to women unless I saw real potential for the future.
I wasn’t sure how Jewel felt about the situation, but the future was exactly what I wanted with her.
Even when she was maddening and sarcastic, she was so funny and brilliant that listening to her explain things made me feel like a drooling idiot.
I was completely out of my depth when I got a call from downstairs about a plumbing issue. I had no clue what they were talking about, let alone how to fix it beyond calling in a crew of professionals.
That prompted Jewel to explain how the plumbing system in the building worked, giving details about the pumps that made the water flow, the shutoffs that directed the input and output from each room, and a bunch of other details I couldn’t remember now.
I was amazed at her knowledge, and when I asked how and why she’d learned such things, she told me about men named John and Mattie and how much they’d taught her and her siblings about building structures from the ground up and all that work entailed.
When I asked why a doctor would need to know such things, she explained that she’d started learning as a young child, helping them build structures on her parents’ property and restoring fixer-uppers they purchased.
I wasn’t sure why she and her siblings wanted to build things, but then again, she’d also talked about building bombs and rockets, so I didn’t question it.
“Okay, Mic, I’ve gotta let you go. My arch-nemesis is . . .”
“You’ve only got one now? What did you do with the rest?”
“It’s Robert.”
“Have fun with that. I’ll see you this evening for dinner,” Micah said before ringing off, and Jewel switched over to the waiting line.
“Thank you for calling AT&T. Let me tell you how to sign up for your car’s extended warranty,” Jewel said by way of greeting.
The voice that came over the speaker instantly irritated me, but Jewel didn’t seem fazed. She simply rolled her eyes and kept packing, even when the man made what I considered a threat followed by an accusation aimed at me and my family here in the city.
“I’d call and report that you helped kidnap my son, but you and your people have the entire police department in your pocket.”
Jewel swept her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. “You know how much I love clothes with pockets.”
“Where is he?” Jewel’s ex-husband demanded.
“Where is who?”
“Max.”
“What about Max?”
“Where did he go?”
“Who?”