Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Who told you that?” Her voice was soft and sweet, but a tinge of worry licked the syllables.
“Does it matter?” He turned to her and leaned against the counter.
She sighed, walked around him, and grabbed a fistful of spoons and forks from the dishwasher.
“Yes.”
“Yes, it matters, or yes, I said that to you at one point in time?”
“Yes, you said it,” she muttered before slipping open a drawer and placing the utensils inside. One by one. Slowly.
“I’m sorry.”
“You were just a kid.” She waved him off, one spoon left in her hand. She placed it inside the drawer with the others, then slumped down in a chair at the kitchen table. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“No, it’s not water under the bridge, and me being a kid is no excuse. For some reason I don’t remember sayin’ it. But I believe I did. I mean, I had to have said it.”
“You were angry.”
“Sounds to me like I had a temper tantrum. One of many. That was wrong of me to speak to my mother that way. Being angry ain’t a good enough excuse.”
“It wasn’t no temper tantrum, Roman.” She closed her eyes and reached in the front pocket of her apron, removing a tissue to blow her nose. She seemed suddenly exhausted. “You were hurtin’. It was a bad time for us as a family, Roman. You were never one to not speak your mind, is all.” She laughed but it seemed forced. “You and I had been close before y’all were taken away. I had a good relationship with all my children before that happened. Me and my three crazy boys.”
She reached for his drink that she’d poured him earlier and took a sip—she probably needed it right then far more than him. Mama didn’t drink alcohol, and she didn’t smoke, either. “Things changed between you and me after that,” she said.
“I didn’t mean it, Mama.”
“You meant it,” she stated sharply. She didn’t appear angry—but she did appear like something. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “And it’s okay that you meant it. Because lies don’t help nobody, even if they come from wrathful children, or we don’t want to hear the truth. You didn’t sass me. You let me know where you stood.”
They were quiet for a spell.
“Mama, Grandpa wants me to work for him.”
“That man can go straight to hell.” She took another sip of their now shared drink, then set it down.
“He will. Unfortunately, though, that trip won’t happen right this second. My prayers are never answered that fast.” He laughed mirthlessly.
“I’m not in the business of tellin’ my adult children what to do, but I beg you, please don’t throw away your good job ’nd such for the likes of him, just to get him off your back. Or even think you can do his dirty deeds while living your dreams, too. Wilde is where dreams go to die.”
He looked over at the half-cut-up celery on the board. The knife lying beside it, glistening.
“He’d have you doin’ somethin’ dishonest as soon as the next sunset come around, and five business days later you’d be locked up like your father. The key thrown away. Your grandfather might own a lot of people, but he can’t pay off everyone. Not everybody in Houston is willin’ to sell their soul.”
“Well, Mama, count your blessings. He didn’t go after Jordan or Dakota. It could be all three of us.”
“Or none at all! I’d much prefer that.” She sucked her teeth, crossed her arms, and rocked back in the chair. “It’s bad enough I’m tryna help Jordan keep his head afloat. This family has been through too much, and some of it is that sickening, horrible rotten man’s fault.” She slapped the table, her brows bunched, and the frown around her lips dipped deep into her skin.
“I have no intention of doing it. Just wanted you to be aware of it… in case something happens to me.”
Their gazes hooked. Her eyes sheened over. She looked away, then down at the floor.
“Mama, don’t worry about me, okay?”
She didn’t respond. Seconds turned to minutes. For the longest time, nothing but ‘Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” by Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson, could be heard.
“I remember dancin’ to this song with your father a long, long, long time ago in a bar. We listened to music together quite a bit. He’d smoke a joint while we snuggled together in the back of his Buick. Just listenin’ to all kinds of tunes on his cassettes and CDs. Your daddy and I met at a movie theater.” She smiled sadly.
He wasn’t sure why she brought that up, but he imagined she needed to, somehow.
“I know. Tell me the story again, though.”
“He come in there with that long, crazy black hair of his, and a torn black shirt. Black Sabbath. He was tall, tan, and well built, Roman. Oh, my word, I swooned when I laid eyes on him. And that smile of his… made me weak at the knees. I wasn’t smart or wise enough back then to look beyond the physical. Anyway, I was there with my friends in line to get drinks and popcorn. He come up to me and said, ‘Howdy, my name’s Reeves. I saw you from way over yonder. You’re the prettiest girl in here.’”