Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
JOSH
“Hey, hon, so…”
My mom stood at the bottom of the high ladder where I perched on tiptoe to replace the single bulb in the garage that was out. This wasn’t the “emergency” I expected.
Her “so” had been filled with a hefty load of I’ve got an opinion on your life.
Mom must’ve gotten her hair done today. The blonde cut was suspiciously stylish with bouncy, curly waves that looked like they belonged on a 20-year-old influencer, not a woman in her fifties trying to pretend she “just woke up like this.” Her left foot tapped, which meant she was going to find out from me exactly what she wanted to know or else I’d suffer endless bothering.
“What?” I replied like a dolt, knowing I’d fallen into her trap.
“The Good Lord knows you’ve gotten a few shocks this week.
First losing Roland and Hope, bless their souls.
Now, Erika is back in town.” She sat on a pile of salt bags and tilted her head.
Dad had become obsessed with never being out of salt after an ice storm twenty years ago made the driveway impassable for four days.
In addition, the concept of running out of mayonnaise again kept him in pseudo prepper mode.
I didn’t doubt there was an entire cabinet filled with condiments out here in the garage.
She asked, “How are you holding up?”
“Fine, I guess.” I had finished the bulb change and didn’t want to climb down the ladder.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“It doesn’t bother you that the girl who almost got you kicked out of high school and almost made you lose your chance to play ball in college is in town?”
I slowly climbed down.
Her foot tapping abruptly stopped. “It’s okay to admit you’re still a little hurt after all those things she did to you.
Now, hon, if you’d tell me what you did to make her madder than a hornet back then, I might understand the whole thing better.
I never did get how you could go from acting like she was your whole world to breaking up. ”
“I never said she was my whole world.” Her words oddly rang reminiscent of what Mrs. Tadlock had said. I wondered if they’d been gossiping at church about me again.
“Darling, you never had to. You had it bad for her since middle school when she saved your butt on that science project you forgot to do.” My mom’s eyes narrowed in a way that reminded me she’d spent a lifetime studying my tells, like a champion card shark waiting to lay down the winning hand.
I’d liked Erika—maybe loved—since way before that project disaster.
“I see you know I’m right,” Mom said. “I once asked Roland if knew anything about the breakup. I mean, he was her father.”
She asked Roland?
She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t get two nickels out of him about it that made sense.”
I folded the ladder and dragged it to the garage wall. “Erika isn’t here to see me. She’s here to sort out her family’s affairs. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. I barely remember her.”
“Right.” She said the word slowly. Her eyebrows rose into her bangs. “Timothy stomped in fit to be tied a few hours ago. Erika threatened him with a blade, I heard.”
“A scalpel, not a knife. He barged into surgery when she was elbow deep in a dog’s chest. He put the patient at risk, which she didn’t like.” I crossed my arms and stood in front of Mom. “She was badass in that surgery today; on a whole other level than any of us around here.”
“I would’ve loved to have seen her threaten Tim,” Mom muttered.
“What?” Who was this woman who seemed to be on Erika’s side?
“Your brother deserves to get his frogs boxed once in a while. He struts around here like he’s king of the village. The little snit stole the rest of my York patties out of the fridge yesterday. He said they were bad for my stomach.”
I kept my lips firmly smashed together. If a single snicker escaped, I’d be the one getting my ears boxed. No one got between Lisa Hurst and her York peppermint patties without expecting retaliation.
“He wanted them for himself.” Mom scooted to the edge of the salt pile. “You’re not at all bothered about Erika being here?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re a crappy liar, Joshua Holston Hurst, but just remember, I’m on your side.” She pulled me into a hug. My mom’s head barely came to my armpits. The smell of her floral skin cream flooded me with a sense of homecoming.
“There aren’t sides here, Mom.”
She smiled mischievously and stalked to the refrigerator in the corner of the garage, reached into the far back behind the case of beer, and retrieved a new bag of peppermint patties. “Want one?”
“Sure.” I took the offering, which made me feel as if I’d just won the “best son” award.
She unwrapped one for herself. “Your father used to behave like Timothy. He used to butt into people’s business like a real son-of-a-bacon-bit.”
“He’s not like that anymore.”
“He learned to keep his mitts off my Yorks.” Her face shifted into that look—the one that meant she was winding up to say something I absolutely did not need in my brain.
“And he learned how to be a god in the bedroom,” she added, all casual.
“Not the ho-hum stuff either. The knock-your-socks-off, see-God kind. If you don’t have that, then…
” She shrugged like this was grocery-store small talk.
“Mom, stop. Seriously. I don’t need visuals.”
“Why not? It’s my secret to surviving that man’s baloney for years.
Timothy couldn’t find it in his marriage.
It’s why he failed.” She bit into her chocolate, chewed in silence, and then said, “Don’t you go doing anything stupid to Erika like flapping your mouth when you’re running hot.
She just lost her father, the poor dear.
You use that brain God gave you. Just remember, she makes you want to lose your clothes faster than a farmer in a tornado. ”
“Jesus, Mom. It’s not like that.” I pinched my nose. “I have a date with Milly tonight.”
Her face scrunched up like she’d eaten a sour grape.
“Don’t you be using the Lord Jesus’s name in vain in my garage just ’cause you realized your knickers are wadded over the girl you’re not dating.
It’s always been that way with Erika. Maybe take her a peppermint.
Her being Erika. It might make her smile.
Sounds like she might need one this week after handling the likes of you and Timothy.
” She slapped a foil-wrapped candy in my hand and stalked away.
She paused at the door into the house. “Who’s this Milly and why does she matter now that Erika’s back? ”
“She’s not back, Mom!” I yelled out, but she pretended not to hear before she went inside.