“You’re greedy,” she teases.
“I’ve never denied that. Especially when it comes to you.”
“But I love you anyway.” I finally relax and smile at the admission. “Because you’re strong but gentle. You’re an amazing father. You’re handsome.” She kisses me. “You’re silly. That one took me by surprise because I didn’t know I liked that, but I guess I do. And you’re so polite. And the way you are with your fans.” She puts a hand to her heart. “Kindness is definitely a turn on. Who knew?”
“I’d better be because you wouldn’t settle for anything less.”
“You got that right, but it’s my turn to confess, so hush.” She puts a finger to my lips, and I kiss it. “You’re busy but attentive. Annoying but persistent. Dramatic but sincere. Very, very dramatic.”
“I don’t think you understand the assignment, teach.”
“And I don’t need a relationship to be happy, complete or fulfilled—”
I clear my throat and narrow my eyes at her. She laughs.
“Hush. You’ll like this part. You’ve filled a void I didn’t know I had, and I’m grateful to you for that. I do need you. I need this. I need us. You, me, and Evan.”
“And don’t forget Mama,” I throw in just to mess with her. She does the usual eye roll, but what she says next surprises me.
“And Mary Leigh. I like her a lot, and I love her son even more.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?” I kiss her cheek.
“Are you kidding?” She swats my chest. “It was like pulling teeth without Novocain. Like a colonoscopy with no lube. Like—” I squeeze her on top of me, and she screams before bursting into laughter. I laugh too, loving seeing her so happy and carefree.
“Okay. Enough. Tell me you love me again,” I order. “Tell me now because I need to go back to sleep.”
One dramatic eye roll later, she says, “I love you.” Her mouth lands on mine and we seal her declaration with a kiss, but she ends it much too soon.
“Get on your stomach. I’m going to massage you to sleep because you are going to win tonight’s game.” I obey, and she hops off the bed. She rummages through her purse and pulls out a little bottle. She sits on my naked butt and pours a cool liquid between my shoulder blades. She rubs and kneads my aching muscles, and I surrender to the feel of her small hands on my body.
I sigh in contentment, happier in this relationship than I’ve ever been in my life. And to think I didn’t want to go out that night I met her. My eyes become heavy, and I let out a small groan just as she gets up. I feel the comb in my hair, but I fall asleep before she can untangle the messy curls.
When I wake up hours later, I’m alone in the bed, but her pillow smells just like her. I put my head in it and inhale. When I walk into the bathroom, my hair is perfectly braided for tonight’s game. I admire my reflection, feeling good enough to conquer the world. I make it to the living room, and Mama is in the kitchen with Victoria and Evan. Mama’s stirring something on the stove while Vickie instructs Evan on how to make a proper Caesar salad.
“When you’re done with Vickie, Evan, Grandma’s gonna show you how to make proper sweet tea. It’s part of your heritage.” Evan nods at my mother, but he’s focused on grating the hunk of cheese Vickie handed to him. He has his tongue sticking out on the side of his mouth while he slowly grates. She stands next to him, ready to take the grater if anything goes wrong.
I clear my throat and enter the room. Mama grins at me, and I kiss her cheek first. When I get to Vickie, I whisper in her ear, “If this isn’t the most traditional scene this southern boy has ever seen. His woman cooking with his mama and son. I do declare, I love it here.”
She discreetly pinches me, and I pretend to be hurt. “Since I’m being held hostage until your stupid games are over, I have to make the best of it. I hate it here.” She whispers the last part in my ear while she kisses and bites the shell.
“Daddy, look at my salad.” Evan picks up the wooden bowl, and I take a piece of lettuce. He runs off to makes sweet tea with his grandmother.
We sit together, and I have a big bowl of chicken Caesar salad while everyone else eats the pot roast and mashed potatoes Mama made.
“This is delicious, Mary Leigh,” Vickie says. She offers me potatoes from her fork.
“Thanks, honey. When you guys come to Alabama, I’ll show you how to make all of Colt’s favorites. Kelsey, God rest her soul, couldn’t boil an egg.” I look at my mother and shake my head at her. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.” She looks at Evan, but he’s busy eating and not paying attention to us.
“It’s okay,” Vickie says. “It doesn’t bother me to hear about Kelsey.” She squeezes my lap.
“My Queen Vee is more horrified at having to cook my favorite meals than you talking about my deceased wife, Mama.”
“You got that right.” She winks at me. “Don’t get any ideas.” She makes a fist, and I cover it with my hand.
“Oh, well I don’t mean it like that. He’s just useless in the kitchen, unlike my Charlie, who can cook like you wouldn’t believe. We’ll all visit his new restaurant when you come. And you’ll meet Rosalie. She’s like another mother to my boys. We do a girls’ only brunch once a month.” She whispers the part about the brunch as if it’s a secret. “You’ll have to come with us. No boys allowed.”
THIRTY-SIX
