24. Colt – “If you talk bad about country music, it’s like saying bad things about my momma. Them’s fightin’ words”-Dolly Parton
24
Colt
“If you talk bad about country music, it’s like saying bad things about my momma. Them’s fightin’ words”-Dolly Parton
“Do you like corn, hun?” My mom asks Abigail as she goes around placing chicken on everyone’s plate.
“I saved you a thigh, baby.” She places the most significant piece of chicken on my plate.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say as I stare at the crispy chicken. The aroma of fried meat filled my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl.
“I like thighs too,” Bodie says.
I look at Bodie as I pick my chicken up with both hands. It tugs at my heartstrings how he always tries to mimic me, but when I think about my younger years, I can only wish he never had a baby with a woman he’s not in love with.
“You eat your chicken wings, and I’ll get you more if you’re still hungry.” My mom puts the chicken back in the oven, where it keeps warm, and grabs the basket of corn, placing it on the table.
“One thing about your daddy is he always had a good appetite, which is probably what made him so tall,” Mom says as she sits at the table, joining us.
“Am I going to be tall too, Grammy?”
“If you continue to eat all your food before your dessert, you most certainly will suga’.”
“Wow, then I can wrestle Dad and give him all the knuckle sandwiches I want?” Bodie says with a little extra kick in his tone.
“That’s right, baby.” My mom says as she places a napkin in her lap. She’s always been a lady. Refined but with ruffles around the edges. She was never afraid to tell anyone her opinion or speak up when needed. My mom had to be tough.
Although I wish she would find a man to help care for her, I respected her for her strength and willpower, raising me all those years alone.
My mom’s face lit up as she and Bodie had their little conversation at the end of the table. She never looked happier than when I came to visit her with Bodie. I look over at Abigail, and she’s nibbling on her chicken drumstick. I try not to laugh, but it’s almost comical that she is eating fried chicken properly. But I wasn’t sure if she was eating slowly because she was trying to be less messy or if she was delaying eating her food altogether.
Maybe she didn’t like fried chicken, or she was a vegetarian, which is something I would never understand. God put meat on this earth for a reason.
As I glanced in her direction sporadically, I found it odd how I paid so much attention to her. It took me days to notice if Naomi dyed her hair a new color. And that’s after she gave subtle hints, but with Abigail, I wanted to study her as if she was a wild animal. Abigail was someone who carried herself in a sophisticated and conflicted way. It made me wonder if a toxic scorpion was hiding in there, ready to strike any minute.
“How are you and Namoi doing?” My mom took the napkin from her lap and carefully dabbed the corners of her mouth.
I know it’s not my mom’s fault for not being up to date with my love life since I didn’t talk much with her, but I cringed at the sound of Naomi’s name. Naomi was the last thing I wanted to discuss right now.
“She’s doing better,” I answered quickly, hoping she’ll take a hint.
“Such a shame. Her father was so young. I mean, sixty-five is not far off from my age.”
“Aren’t you like fifty-five, Mom?’
“Ya, Grandma, didn’t you tell someone on the phone the other day you were fifty-two?” Bodie says, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.
My mom makes a tsking noise before saying, “You know a lady never reveals her true age to a man, including her son and grandson. I raised you better than that.” She picks up the basket before her, placing one corn on the cob on her plate.
“Right,” Sarcasm slips from my lips as I draw out the vowels.
“Just eat your chicken and let a lady soak in denial in peace.”
My mom was beautiful for her age. She took excellent care of herself. She didn’t even get Botox or any of that crap most women did in their fifties and sixties. She had naturally smooth skin. She always wore sunscreen and never drank much. Only on occasion. Whenever anyone complimented her, she said, “That’s the product of living a clean life.”
She dated a guy after my dad but never got married or wanted to. She was content. That’s what she told me anyway, but I know she gets lonely now and then. As much as I wanted to see her grow old with someone, I didn’t mind being the only man in her life right now, along with Bodie. And I know my mom didn’t mind it, as long as there was no lady in my life to make her feel like she was taking away from my relationship. Knowing my mom, once I was committed to someone, she would tell me to take care of my family, even if she needed help with something. It’s another reason why I built a lake house nearby.
“So, are you two still working things out?”
I look over at Abigail, and when she meets my eyes, I quickly avert my attention back to my food.
“No, Mom, I told you I was just trying to let her down gently. I mean, I couldn’t just cut ties with her cold turkey after her dad died.”
“Well, I didn’t know. You brought her over here not too long ago, so I’m just asking. Don’t get your cleats in a wad.”
This is the part I hated about my mom, she talked way too much.
I groan as I push my plate away, “Mom, that was three months ago.”
“Really? Could have fooled me, felt like a month ago.”
“We’ve been on a break for almost five months.”
“So why do you still string her along? Spending time with her, if you are not interested anymore? You’re wasting her time and yours. You know that, right? And I ain’t getting any younger.”
Abigail clears her throat loudly, and I glare over at her. She smiles sweetly, not saying a word.
“Ya, know-” A sly grin spreads across my face when I think of the perfect detour for this conversation. “Namoi is Abigail's cousin.”
“No,” my mom says, averting her sole attention from Abigail now. I know that was not the most noble thing to do, but I would rather have my mom ask her questions than me. I’ve had to deal with this nosey woman my whole life. Abigail can handle one lunch.
“Ya,” she clears her throat again, setting her chicken wing on her plate and taking a sip of water. “Colt and I met before that, but I had no idea they dated until my other cousin, Jenna, had her baby shower a couple of weekends ago. I was too busy in California to keep up with drama or anyone’s dating life.” She smiles sweetly as she places a spoonful of peas on her spoon.
“Oh, yes, Namoi mentioned one of her cousins was pregnant and getting married at the same time, which is wonderful. Knock two birds with one stone.” Abigail glances at me with pierced lips, but it’s so swift you wonder if it happened.
“So, are you all related or just Naomi?”
“Yes, they are my cousins. We all grew up together.” Abigail says, but her tone sounds agitated instead of eager.
“How lovely! I would have never guessed, with all that gorgeous curly hair of yours, that you all were ever related,” my mom says with a light laugh.
Abigail’s eyes look down at her hands, and she is quiet. I’m not sure why, but it’s like my mom’s comment did something to her. Upset her? Angered her?’
“No one knows where my curly hair came from.” She jokes. “That’s the power of genetics, right?” She takes another sip of her water, and this time, I can tell she’s uncomfortable with how she shifts in her seat and clutches the glass tightly.
“Like I said, Once I moved to L.A., we all grew apart since no one came to visit me. Not even my parents.”
“That’s awful. How long were you out there?” my mom asks, which I’m grateful for because I wanted her to continue asking Abigail all the pestering questions I was too proud to ask.
“Almost five years.”
“And your parents never saw you?” My mom’s voice shoots up an octave, and Abigail shifts in her seat again.
“I came here for holidays, so I saw them, just not as often as I-” she hesitates, “they wanted.”
“I see, so what made you move back home, dear?” My mom gestured to Bodie to eat his vegetables as he looked bored, waiting for me to finish my food, but I didn’t want to end this conversation short if I didn’t have to.
She blows out a breath. “Well, mainly finances. California is crazy expensive, and I was there on a scholarship. And if I want to pursue medical school, there’s no way I can live out there on my own, work full time, and attend school full time. So I decided to move back, be closer to my family, and save enough money to live off of for the next year until I can afford my place without struggling.”
“That’s why she’s staying with us,” I say, jumping into the conversation.
“Oh, I thought you said your parents lived here?”
Geeze, Mom, what a way to make this conversation go south.
“No, they do, but they are going through a rough time, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
“Rough time?”
“Ya, they hate each other,” Abigail says matter-of-factly.
I laugh, but it backfires as I cough into my napkin aggressively.
“Wrong pipe,” I say, removing my napkin from my face and placing it back on the table.
“Heavens, You poor thing, it’s never easy, no matter what age you are, to deal with parents splitting up. No brothers or sisters?”
“I have a sister, but she’s busy and just had a baby not too long ago. They just moved into their new house, so I’m sure the last thing they want to deal with is sharing their living space with me.”
“I see.” She looks over at me. “Well, that’s very sweet of you to take her in, son, and help her out.”
“Ya, and she could have the whole apartment to herself if my pipes didn’t burst.”
“They what?” My mom's mouth drops open a little.
“Nothing to be alarmed about, Mom. It happened l when we were at Disney World.”
“Now you know why I love my old house. Sometimes newer isn’t better.”
“Yes, Mom, I understand, but that shouldn’t have happened. It’s not cold outside or anything.”
“Bigger and more expensive isn’t always better.” My mom tops her spoonful of mashed potatoes to me as declaring a valid point before bringing it to her mouth.
“Dad.”
“Ya Bodie.”
“I’m bored. Can we go now?”
“What did we talk about? No complaining at the dinner table.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I made some chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies, so you all must have one or two before leaving.” She winked.
“Peanut butter?”
I heard Abigail mumble under her breath.
“Are you allergic to peanut butter?” I lean in to ask her as I take a large sip of Sweet Tea.
“No, no, it’s just….” She pauses as if she is about to regret the words she’s about to say.
I look down at my watch and realize I need to return to the house. I have to stop at the Capital Homes building and pick out some new floors, since they didn’t have the same kind I had chosen when I built the house a couple of years ago.
“We’ll have to eat them on the way, Mom. I need to get going.”
“Oh, okay, let me bag some up for you.”
“Chocolate chip for me please!” Bodie says with enthusiasm.
“Since you said please, I’ll give you one now and one for the road.” My mom kisses his head as she gets up to grab some cookies.
Once we say our goodbyes, I’m eager to get on the road and continue asking Abigail more questions.
“Want to put in a tape,” I say as I buckle my car seat.
“A tape as in a cassette tape?” Her gaze suddenly flashes to my car stereo. Her eyes go wide. Surprise lighting up her face. I almost laughed. Did she not notice it on the ride over here?
“Is that an actual tape deck?” She reaches out and touches the car radio like an old vase, pushing eject. Out pops a clear cassette tape with white lettering. She removes it, cupping it in her hand, and reads the title.
“Guns N’ Roses,” her hand goes to her mouth. She looks like she’s about to fucking cry.
“Oh my God.” Darting for the Glove department, she opens it and stares at the line of tapes nearly set up. Bon Jovi, Rolling Stones, Queen, Tom Petty.
Then she seems to spot something that excites her because she reaches in and plucks out the black leopard case. “Hysteria?” she explains, reading the album title. “They don’t make that album anymore?”
I raise my eyebrows. Not sure why this is all so exciting. “I’ll take your word for it,” I say, amused by all this.
“I bought this truck off an old guy. I got a good deal on it, and the guy took good care of it. It was going to be my graduation gift to—” I stop myself, realizing I’m sharing a good memory of Blake. When was the last time I did that?
I feel her gape at me. But I don’t meet her gaze. “Blake,” I say, staring straight ahead.
Silence flows over us, and I look in the back seat and see Bodie passed out. I usually enjoy the silence when it comes to car rides and appreciate it when he takes a nap. But right now, I wish he was awake so he could distract Abigail from asking me questions about Blake since I’m sure I’m not the only one with many unanswered questions.
But instead of prying, I felt her avert her gaze back to the tapes, and it occurred to me that she was the first person ever to touch those tapes in the glove compartment.
“You don’t know what you have here. I’m surprised these haven’t wound up in the bottom of a trash can. Whoever the car owner was, he was a cool guy.” She lifts her head, and I glance at her briefly into those big hazel eyes .
“Blake would have loved this truck.”
She carefully places the tapes back in the glove compartment, but before she closes it, she asks.
“May I?” She gestures to the tape deck.
I laugh under my breath and shift into higher gear as I drive down the road.
“Knock yourself out.” We listen to two songs as we drive back to my lakehouse, taking a shortcut and passing a trail to our right.
“Wow, look at that.”
I look out the passenger window and see what she's looking at.
“Nature, it’s so beautiful.”
And so are you.
Fuck, I felt myself get hard in my pants. I’ve been with the hottest women who’ve walked this earth, and something as subtle as her appreciating nature is getting me turned on.
“Forgot how tall the trees get out here,” she says, not taking her eyes off the outdoors.
When I pull up to the driveway, I see Bodie is still knocked out. She follows my gaze.
“Guess all that riding wore him out.” She says with a smile, which I take a mental note of since it is subtle but genuine. Something I rarely saw her do. Smile.
“Ya, riding horses can do that.” Our eyes lock. “All the legwork and muscle action you must put into it can be tiresome.” I hold her gaze, and something weird happens to my body.
Get it together, Colt.
A faint smile brushes her lips as we pull up to my house. “Thanks, that was fun.”
“Hanging out with my mom was fun?” I raises an eyebrow at her. She really must not get out much.
“Ya,” she laughs through her answer. “Sure as heck beats what I have to go inside and do now.”
“What’s that?” I picture her masturbating in that tiny room all by herself. And blink to erase the image.
“I need to prepare for school tomorrow and get situated because I won’t have as much free time by next weekend.”
“Why?”
“I start my new job at Shifters, bartending.”
“Oh,” Shifters was a bar downtown, and it had a bad reputation because it was located next to the slums.
Plus, the idea of men hitting on Abigail all night didn’t sit well with me. Do her parents know about this? Why would they let her work in a place like that? But then again, I’m not her father, and it’s not my place. Besides, I don’t know why I’m acting like she’s so much younger than me. We’re only six years apart since she said her birthday is in November. Mine is in January, so when she turns twenty-two, I’ll be shortly turning twenty-nine.
“Do you need help with Bodie? I can make you a snack before I get on the computer?”
“No, it’s fine. I got him.”
We hear a faint snore and turn to look in the back seat.
“Now that is adorable.” She whispers as she looks over the top of her seat at him, taking him in as if he’s a methodical creature we rescued from the bottom of the ocean.
I stare at her. Her curly hair cascaded down her back, and her tiny shorts cupped her butt perfectly. The sun rays from the windshield shone directly on her, making her look stunning, even on a simple day like this.
She turns to face me as if she feels my gaze on her. “Thanks again for inviting me.”
Her words are simple, but they feel like a loaded thank you. Thank you for letting me stay here, for treating me with respect, and for including me. I wasn’t sure, I knew I liked making her feel welcome. I enjoyed taking care of her, in a way. I liked seeing her carefree. It made me wonder what she was like when she let loose and let those curly locks run wild