by Jordan Marie
“Only when it really matters.”
“Oh…” she gasps, right before my lips takes hers.
18
Ida Sue
If you were to ask me how I got back to the house, I couldn’t tell you if my life depended on it. I might have danced. I felt that good after Jansen’s kiss. It’s strange that at thirty-eight I can feel like I’ve been kissed for the first time in my life, but that is exactly what it feels like.
I make it in the house and then I lean against the shut door, with my heart beating crazily in my chest.
He kissed me.
It was a damn good kiss, too. It was the kind that makes your knees weak and clouds your mind. The kind that sears inside of you in a way that you know you will remember it for the rest of your life. The kind that makes you forget every kiss that came before it and will probably be the one you measure any others that come after it.
I sigh like a silly school girl, which I’m not and haven’t been in a long time. I never even finished high school. I didn’t get the chance. I was too busy trying to survive.
“What’s going on with you?”
I look up to see my oldest son, White, eyeing me closely. I don’t let myself react.
“What do you mean?” I mumble.
“You look….”
“Winded. I ran all the way back from the barn. I’m late to get over to old Mrs. Waverly’s.”
“I hate that you have to clean that old cow’s house, Mom.”
“I think you just insulted cows,” I joke lamely.
“I’m going to go pro next year,” he declares.
“You are not.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t you Mom me, White Hall Lucas.”
“You said you’d quit calling me that,” he says with a wince.
“It’s a good name, but don’t distract me. You are not leaving college early to play football.”
“We need the money—you need the money.
“I’ll survive. I always do. It’s important for you to finish your schooling.”
“I can always finish later, Mom.”
“We both know you won’t.”
“Of course, I will.”
“White Hall, you’re lyin’ like a no legged dog,” I chastise. “You hate everything about school.”
“That’s not true. He likes the part where he gets the girls,” Gray says, coming in.
“I do like that part.”
“I can quit, Mom,” Gray says.
“You won’t either. You both are going places and I didn’t work my butt off so you could give up on your dreams.”
“But you’re broke,” Gray says. “I can—”
“I might not have a pot to piss in, but I still have a window to throw it out of. I’m not that desperate just yet. Jansen’s been working here on the ranch and if the price of beef holds, we may turn in a profit next month,” I tell them, not bothering to say how small. Still, being in the black is better than the red any day of the week.
“Green’s been telling us about this Jansen. Who is he exactly? Can we trust him?”
“He’s been working hard and he has good references. I’m not senile just yet, I know how to hire someone to work. Now, quit changing the subject. What are you two boys doing back in town?”
“Aren’t you glad to see us?” White laughs.
“Always, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Green invited us down to watch his game tonight. We decided to meet up in Dallas and drive down.”
“You had money to spare for that?” I ask them, knowing money is as tight for them as it is for me. They both got free rides to college for sports, but they work part time to cover everything that doesn’t cover. I know it can’t be easy for them, but they do it without complaint. I’ve made a hell of a lot of mistakes, but my kids…
They are everything.
“We’re fine, Mom. You need a ride into town to that witch’s house?”
“White,” I chastise, laughing.
“Where you going?”
“She’s cleaning Mrs. Waverly’s house today,” White tells Gray.
“God, I hate that old woman.”
“It’s not good to hate people, Gray.”
“She’s a bitch, though.”
“Still, don’t let her be a blot on your soul, son. She don’t matter.”
“Whatever,” he says.
“It’s true, it doesn’t even matter that her nose is so far up in the air that she would drown in a rainstorm,” I joke with a wink—making them laugh. “I could use a ride. It’d be nice to have my two handsome boys escorting me into town.”
“White will have to take you, Mom. I promised the twins I’d take them to Shuckey’s for Pizza.”
“Oh, let me give you some money and I’ll let you pick up—”
“I’m already getting it for everyone. I don’t need money.”
“Son—”
“Mom, it’s fine, I swear. I’d tell you if I didn’t have it. Now go before you’re late.”
I hug him, closing my eyes and letting the happiness fill me. I miss my boys. I miss them every damn day. I’m glad they’re seeing to their dreams and reaching high. It makes me proud. It doesn’t make being away from them any easier, however.
White links his arm in mine and I follow him out and to his old beat up truck.
“Love you, Gray,” I call over my shoulder.
“Love you, too, Mom,” he says and I smile, squeezing White’s arm.
“I love you, too, White Hall.”
“Same goes, Mom, but honestly, drop the Hall, please?”
“It was a lovely hall. Did I tell you? The ceilings had wood beams…”
“La-la-la-la, I can’t hear you!” White yells and I laugh. My kids think I got their names from where they were created. I invented colorful stories to make them smile. They’re little harmless white lies that give them roots. I want that. I want their laughter and their joy in memories. Plus, it’s damn fun to poke them with a stick and watch them squirm.
The truth is much less… enjoyable.
I named my boys after colors because most of my life it felt like I was barely existing. I wanted my kids to have beauty and to be surrounded by color. I wanted them to have everything I didn’t. It began with White. The hospital walls were a sanitized white. I’d look out in the hallway and see that white paint and pray my parents would walk in the door, apologize and promise to love me and take care of me. When that didn’t happen, I prayed White’s sperm donor would come in and offer to help support me and the child while I got on my feet.
That didn’t happen either.
When the nurse asked for a name to put on his birth certificate, I remember staring at that white hall and vowing that my boy would have joy and color in his life. I named him White Hall as a reminder to myself to always strive to give him more and to not waste my time on wishing for others to do it. I would have to be enough for White.
I obviously didn’t learn my lesson. By the time I had my second child that damn wall was Gray. When I had my daughter, I thought maybe I should concentrate on something besides the wall. Besides naming a girl Yellow—which was the wall color, although a different wall and state than where I had my boys—just didn’t seem right. There was a giant Magnolia tree outside the window though.
Yeah. I never want my kids to learn the truth to their names.
I’d rather watch them smile and laugh and act uncomfortable when I prod them and do my best to make them uncomfortable.
If I’m honest, it’s one of my favorite things to do.
19
Jansen
“So, you’re Jansen.”
“Last time I checked,” I respond, rubbing the side of my neck. The guy in front of me looks to be in his twenties. He looks a little familiar, but I don’t remember seeing him before. Obviously however, he knows me.
“I’m White.”
I frown for a minute, thinking he’s telling me the color of his skin.
It’s not like that would be a great mystery. Then, it hits me.
“Ida Sue’s boy.”
“I don’t think anyone’s called me a boy in a long time… ‘cept maybe my coach.”
“When you get my age, that changes. You’re lucky I didn’t call you a kid.”
“I guess so. How do you like working on the ranch?” he asks, moving to stand beside me and imitating my stance by leaning toward the fence, his hands on the top of the pad that is over top the steel post that connects the chain link.
“It’s a job,” I answer. Wondering what this conversation is about.
“Green and the others really like you, Jansen.”
“I like them. They’re good kids.”
“What about, Mom? You like her too?”
“She’s a good woman.”
“She’s the best. That doesn’t really answer the question,” White says. I look out over the field where Green’s game is about to start. Wasn’t really expecting this would start my night. Then again, I kind of thought I would have seen Ida Sue before now and so far, she hasn’t shown up either.
“No offense, White, but what I feel or don’t feel for your mother is kind of between me and her.”
“Fair enough. I’m just letting you know Mom takes a lot of shit from people in Mason. There’s not a lot I can do about those close-minded idiots. But, I’m not about to let anyone else get away with it.”
“I can respect that. If it makes any difference, I think your mother is a hell of a woman.”
“It makes a difference—”
“White Hall Lucas. What in damnation do you think you’re doing?”
I lean my head down and hide my smile while I contain my laughter when I hear Ida Sue.
“Mom, I told you about that name—”
“I’d like to know what you think you’re doing talking to Jansen.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you, Mom,” White mutters and suddenly he sounds just like a little boy getting chastised by his mother.
“I ought to set your ears on fire. I’ve been taking care of myself for a damn long time.”
“You’re not alone anymore though, Mom. Gray and I are old enough to help now and—”
“And nothing—”
“Ida Sue, leave the boy alone.”
“The hell I will. Jansen you’ve had my kids—”
“Ida Sue, I’m telling you to leave it alone. I love your kids and I respect White for seeking me out.”
“You’re about as smart as a screen door on a submarine yourself, then.”
I laugh. I probably shouldn’t. What man would laugh when the woman he’s set his hat on insults him?
Apparently, I do.
“Lovey, you’re late, you’ve almost missed the start of the game.”
“I went over to Rick Mullins’s after I got off.”
“What did you go to that asshole’s for?” I growl. I’ve been in town long enough to know that Rick is the owner of the store, and the one I met when I first came into town. It still don’t sit well with me how he insulted Ida Sue and talked about her.
“I see you’ve met the dickhead,” White laughs.
Ida Sue slaps him on the back of the head instantly.
“Shit, Maw—”
She slaps him again.
“Keep going and I’ll keep hitting.”
“I’m done, I’m done,” White says grudgingly.
“The boy’s just telling the truth. He is a dickhead. Why did you go and see him?” I demand, not bothering to hide my frustration.
“He wants someone to clean his house.”
“Hell, no,” I growl at the same time White does.
“I don’t think I have to have permission from either of you.
“Damn, did Green and Cynthia break up?” White asks, with a long whistle, changing the subject abruptly.
“Yeah, he broke up with her a day or so ago. He’s been talking to—”
“I see who he’s talking to. Damn she’s a babe. Little brother has good taste. What’s her name?”
“Lord, White. That head injury you had the other day caused more damage than we knew,” Ida Sue mutters.
“It wasn’t a head injury. I just got the wind knocked out of me when I got tackled at practice,” he responds, not even bothering to look at his mom. “Seriously, who is that hot little piece?”
“Her name is jail bait, son. She’s just turning fifteen,” I remind him.
“She’s got curves that are much older. Green never dates girls younger than him, which means this girl could be seventeen. That makes her legal.”
“She’s dating your brother, son. And, she’s a good girl.”
“I like good girls, Jansen,” he grins. “I like them even more when they can be bad, too.”
“Son, that’s not a good way to think about a woman, any woman really. But that girl—”
“What Jansen’s trying to tell you, and you’re missing—seeing as how your tongue is watering the grass and you can’t pick it up off the ground—is that girl is way too young for you and it’s also Kayla,” Ida Sue interjects.
“Kayla who?” he asks, still looking at Green and Kayla talking.
“The Kayla who stays with your sisters?”
“Our Kayla?” White squawks.
“I think she might be Green’s now. Black said Green was going to ask her out.”
“Our Kayla?”
When Green leans down to give Kayla a kiss—admittedly a mostly chaste one, but it looks sweet—White growls under his breath.
“Green knows better than to play with Kayla. She’s a kid and had too many hard knocks,” he says walking away, not bothering to say goodbye.
“That going to be trouble?” I ask Ida Sue, figuring she’d know. I can’t help but wonder if White and Green will get into it over Green dating Kayla.
“I hope not, Kayla will be the first girl I actually don’t mind Green talking to. But honestly, who knows, life is never dull with my brood.”
“That’s true,” I murmur, watching as White walks up to his brother and slaps him hard—a little too hard—on his back and interrupts his private time with Kayla.
“I love my boys, but I swear, sometimes it’s like the porch light is on but nobody’s home, especially when it comes to girls.”
“Got it,” I tell her, finally understanding. “They’re young. Boys don’t exactly think with their brain at their age,” I tell her.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” she laughs.
“Sadly, I am. I know you worry, but they’re good kids. They’ll figure things out eventually.”
“Probably, but Kayla will probably get hurt by Green in the meantime.”
“Now, that’d be a shame.”
“I agree.”
“What’s this about you going to work for that horse’s ass in town?” I ask, bringing the conversation back around.
I don’t care what I have to do, there’s no way Ida Sue will be working for that man.
20
Ida Sue
I look at Jansen. His good-looking face set as if it was carved in stone. It almost makes me smile. I’ve seen stubborn up close before, I see it in my own face when I look in the mirror, not to mention the faces of my children. For some reason, seeing it on Jansen’s face makes me feel warm inside. I’m not sure why, except that it feels like he’s concerned about me and that hasn’t happened in a long time. Still, it doesn’t matter how Jansen feels about things. I don’t have a choice. I need this job. Besides, I like Jansen and his kisses are nice, but I’ve learned the hard way that you can only depend on yourself in this life.
“I’m taking the job,” I tell him, to head off any argument.
“That man is an ass,” he grumbles.
“Maybe, but he has money and I need the job.”
“The ranch made a small profit this month.”
“Very small. Listen, Jansen. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not your place.”
/> “Ida Sue—”
“My kids will always come first. If I have to scrub that asshole’s toilet to make sure they have food on the table and a roof over their head, then I will. I’d do it if he was Lucifer himself. So, it’s done.”
“He’s probably worse than the devil,” Jansen grumbles.
“Can’t argue with you there.”
“He has one time to make a move on you and I’ll introduce his face to my fist.”
“Did you really just say that?” I laugh.
“I did and I mean it,” he says, his voice definitely showing he’s not happy.
“Can we just enjoy Green’s game?”
“I been thinking about that,” he says, moving in closer to me.
We’re not touching, but I can feel the heat of his body close by and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.
“About what?” I question, my voice dropping down as a wave of desire moves slowly through my body. It’s been a long time for me, but Jansen is waking up feelings I haven’t let see the light of day in forever.
“Why on earth are they having a baseball game in February? I thought baseball was played later in the year.”
“Well, the regular season starts around the end of March or sometime in April. But, Green’s team always has several early games in February. The coach says scrimmages give them time to get used to the grind.”
“I thought Texas was a football state.”
“We’re a multi-talented state,” I laugh.
“I’m starting to learn that,” he says his voice soft and throaty. The look in his eyes intense.
“Jansen?” I ask, proud of myself because his name doesn’t come out squeaky. Especially since his stare seems so hot and passionate it could set me on fire.
“Yeah?”
“Are you… I mean are you…”
“Am I what, Lovey?” he says his voice barely more than a murmur. His hand comes up and his thumb slides against my chin causing goosebumps to rise over my skin and shivers of awareness to slither through my body.
“Are you…” I start again, and then realize I don’t know exactly what to ask. So, I decide to go a more direct route. “What are you trying to do to me?” I ask, my gaze locked with his.