by Taylor Ryan
“Until some old fart has a heart attack. Then it’s manslaughter. Mexican prisons are shit.” Garth leaned casually back on his heels. Mary Kathryn had said she was glad he was here, glad to have help dealing with Henry and Alison’s idiocy. Now that he was constantly faced with it, he truly understood why she hadn’t told her son she’d won a lottery. Florida, wasn’t that where she’d said she won.
“Henry,” Garth gave the new knob a quick turn, feeling a little mean for tormenting the younger man. “If you mess with any more locks, I’m going to be sleeping in your bed. You’ll be tied to the frame and stuffed under it with that Pest of a cat twitching its tail in your face.” Garth towered over the younger man. “Henry, I like Mexico, but it seems like an awful lot of hassle keeping your mother out of prison. I was thinking I should marry her. You know, before she goes to prison—give our little bugger, Michael, my last name, but I’m not sure—what do you think?” He didn’t give Henry time wipe the sweat off his palms. “Hopefully when the feds come after her, they won’t make me pay restitution for her deeds. Put all the old doorknobs into the packages the new ones came in, with their screws and plates. Tape them closed. You can run them to the goodwill store next time you pick Alison up from work. Nice working with you, son. I enjoyed it.” He thumped Henry on the shoulder and walked off before Henry could respond.
Chapter Twenty
“ARE YOU REALLY PLANNING on having another family, Mom?” Henry burst from the pressure two hours later as his mother was sitting down beside Garth to eat a late lunch. Her glowing smile for the older man causing Henry to slump over his paper plate.
“That’s our business, Henry,” Garth said quickly, aware of Mary Kathryn’s stunned surprise. “Unless you’re offering to baby sit.” He winked at Mary Kathryn.
Henry went into a coughing fit behind his hand. Garth mouthed ‘park’ to Mary Kathryn just to see her cheeks redden. She didn’t disappoint him, cringing as her face reddened.
“Kids? Really, Mom?!” Henry looked hunted. “Really? At your age? What about your health? You’re too old to have a kid.”
“Henry!” Alison was shocked.
“Henry, you remind me of a sloppy hero,” said Mary Kathryn. Garth felt her bare foot rubbing his shin. He returned her waggishly rising brows with a benign expression, which made her eyes glitter. “First protecting Garth,” she said to Henry, “now me? Make up your mind, son. Pick a costume that fits, the one you’re wearing is too tight.”
“A sloppy hero, Mom?” Henry complained, piqued. “That hurt and I’m not even sure why. Alison, I heard the washing machine stop spinning. Put my clothes in the dryer.”
Mary Kathryn’s fine eyes sparked with temper. “Oh, Henry, I ought to smack you! Ask. And say please.” She turned on Alison. “Stop doing for him. I didn’t raise him this way. My God, you’ve spoiled him. What’s he done for you lately, Alison? You’re the one working. He should be taking care of you!”
“I spoiled him?” Alison blinked. “I thought you did it.”
“I was a working mother,” Mary Kathryn said easily, her toes traveling up Garth’s leg. “Henry knows how to cook, clean, do laundry. Even down to sorting the whites.” She looked Henry in the eye. “I don’t know who he is anymore, and frankly, Son, I don’t like this new you. It’s time for some truths, Henry. Remember how you used to do laundry, bake cakes from scratch, make quiche, bread, and Chicken Kiev. And once,” she glanced at Alison, “miracles of miracles, he made Jell-o—right out of the box.”
Alison turned a narrowed gaze onto the wounded looking Henry. “You know how to do laundry?”
“And he knows how to fold it. Like most people,” Mary Kathryn smiled at Henry.
“Fess up now, son.” Garth’s was a voice of masculine experience. “Take the high road and suck up your punishment.”
“He even knows how to make crème brulee.” Mary Kathryn said sweetly, eyeing her son with motherly disgust.
Alison’s blank expression turned to outrage. “You know how to do laundry, Henry?!”
“Do you want to borrow a loaf of bread to swing at him, Alison? It’s okay. If it gets smashed, Henry can make bourbon bread pudding for dessert tonight.” Mary Kathryn was amused as Henry appeared more guilty by the second. He couldn’t look at her or Alison. “Alison,” she said, “Henry bakes the meanest braided poppy seed bread you will ever sink your teeth into. Not only are the loaves beautiful, they are delicious. And his roasted cauliflower with penne pasta is exquisite.”
“Ohhh!” Outraged, Alison helplessly looked to her father. “He used me, Daddy! I spent hours at the laundromat in college when I should have been doing my homework. I spent hours cooking and cleaning his apartment, scrubbing the toilet and picking up his underwear, scouring dishes stacked to the ceiling because he and his room mates are total slobs. He used me! I slaved, and cooked and sweated. My grades suffered because this...this asshole lied to me—used me!”
“Asshole?” Henry gasped but his mother interrupted him before he could defend himself.
“Rose colored glasses, Alison. And you wore them well. You’re too nice.” Mary Kathryn grinned at Garth as her foot played with him under the table. “Frankly, Alison,” she said. “I’d marry Henry and get yourself a better job if he isn’t going to work or go to back school. Like your father said, he can stay home if he’d get his butt off the couch. He was a great little house boy when he was growing up. I trained him well. Every Saturday, top to bottom, he learned to clean before he moved into the kitchen.”
“Mom!” Henry flushed with embarrassment.
“Henry, you think we like picking up your dirty underwear at your age?” Mary Kathryn stared calmly at her son. “Frankly, I’m disappointed Alison doesn’t know you’re a gourmet class chef. Everything you touch in a kitchen is magic.”
“Is that true?” Alison glared at her fiancé; he concentrated on his sandwich. Her face flamed. “So it is true—?!” her face flushed with her rising temper.
“Mom!” Henry protested. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Why don’t you just cook with her, Henry? Have fun showing off at the same time. It’s called, a relationship. Camaraderie over canapes. Bonding over Bernaise...” Mary Kathryn’s voice petered out. She was definitely more interested in messing with Garth under the table than solving Henry’s dilemma of lying to Alison.
“Oh, Henry! I don’t even know you!” Alison yelled, startling all of them. Mary Kathryn righted the mustard bottle Henry knocked over, ignoring Garth as she continued distracting him.
“Alison, please don’t yell at the kitchen table.” Garth took Mary Kathryn’s foot and pinched her big toe when traveled up the inside of his thigh. When she tried to pull it away he grasped it firmly.
“Henry would do anything but work, Alison—apparently it’s worked. You’ve been picking up his dirty underwear off the bathroom floor,” said Mary Kathryn as Garth ate with one hand and gripped her ankle with his other. “Alison, do you know what Henry’s dream is?” She jerked, almost spilling her ice tea when Garth rubbed her heel against his crotch.
“Mom!” Henry was distraught, staring helplessly at Alison, who looked as if she wanted to throttle him.
“I-I though he wanted to be a computer programmer,” Alison’s voice lowered in deference to her father’s request she not scream while they were eating.
“Time to come out of the pantry, Henry.” It took all Mary Kathryn’s concentration to focus on the task at hand instead of the hard flesh her heel was rubbing against through Garth’s jeans. “He really wants to be a chef. Garth,” she snapped. “Stop that! Alison, that’s why Henry failed business classes. He wants his own restaurant someday. He seemed to forget restaurants are a business.” Mary Kathryn waved her sandwich toward Henry. “He wants to go to Phoenix. There’s a culinary art school he wants to attend but he’s afraid you won’t think it manly enough.”
Mary Kathryn’s mouth dropped when she felt bare skin against her toes. She gaped at
Garth. He smiled evilly and waggled his brows then took a bite of his sandwich.
“What’s wrong?” Alison peered suspiciously from Mary Kathryn to her father.
“Nothing,” Garth said, releasing Mary Kathryn’s foot. He deftly caught the linen napkin Mary Kathryn threw at him and dropped it into his lap. She grabbed it between her bare toes and dragged it away, laughing at him.
“Would you two quit playing footsies!” Henry screeched at his mother.
Mary Kathryn started, suitably chagrined. “He started it!”
“I did not, she did.” Garth accused. “She’s got jungle fever.” He laughed when both Mary Kathryn and Alison frowned.
“Dad!” Alison scolded. “Stop it. Both of you put your hands on the table right now. Do it! I want to see them this instant. This isn’t about you!”
“It never is,” Garth heaved a sigh, flirting with Mary Kathryn over his turkey sandwich. Should he mention Mary Kathryn’s foot to Alison. He winked at Mary Kathryn across the table. They were behaving badly. It was fun.
“Mom,” Henry said stiffly, avoiding Alison’s angry countenance. “Am I adopted?”
Everybody blinked. Distracted, Garth and Alison looked wonderingly at Mary Kathryn. Mary Kathryn could only stare blankly her son. She took a sip of her iced tea, eyeing Henry as he were some odd edible bug she’d discovered crawling across her chips.
“Henry—” her long suffering sigh was exhaled slowly. “I was sixteen when I found you in your father’s pants.”
Garth choked, wheezing for air. Red crept up Henry’s cheeks.
Mary Kathryn sighed again. “I didn’t take care of my hamster when I was in high school, Son. It got lost and I couldn’t find it—your father helped me look for it. Your grandfather gave me hell about that hamster for nine months.”
A burst of laughter came through Garth’s mouth.
“A hamster, Mary Kathryn?” Garth managed. “You lost your hamster in the same breath you found Henry in his father’s pants?” He couldn’t stop laughing.
“Garth,” Mary Kathryn set the remainder of her sandwich on her plate, wiggling her toes against his thigh again. “We need to talk about this baby thing that isn’t going to happen. Let’s go fishing, I know a great motel that sells bait.”
“Mom!”
“I know that place.” Garth saw the dubious black brow rise and grinned at her. “I met a lady who works at the Bennt Chamber of Commerce.”
“Dad!”
“When you get off work tossing pizza dough, Alison,” Garth said to his daughter, capturing Mary Kathryn’s hand as they rose. “Stop by the market and pick up some fish for dinner. Henry can cook.”
“But,” Alison was confused. “Mary Kathryn said you were going fishing. Why do I need to pick up fish?”
They ignored her, holding hands as Mary Kathryn handed Garth her iced tea. They were certain to need hydrating.
“Alison, what am I supposed to call him?” Henry’s bemused statement came as Garth and Mary Kathryn smiled at each other. “Uncle Garth? How’s this going to work, Mom?” he whined.
Mary Kathryn laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. Henry, do you realize how many miles I can get out of this? I’m going to be seeing your fiancée’s father. And when you two get married...well, talk about keeping things in the family.” She poked Garth in the belly, earning a grunt. “Uncle?”
She took her iced tea from Garth and sipped.
Henry slouched with defeated resignation. “Are you running pharmaceuticals for erectile challenged dopers, Mom?”
“Wha—attt—?” Mary Kathryn inhaled ice tea. She choked, gasped, and went into a coughing fit. Wheezing for breath, her eyes streaming, she groped for the back of a chair to keep herself upright. Garth rubbed her back, grabbed a linen napkin from the table and pressed it into her hand as she leaned over the chair.
Alison came to her feet and rescued Mary Kathryn’s iced tea, setting it down as Garth whispered encouragement. “Don’t choke to death—breathe sweetheart... I’m sorry, this is my fault.”
She wheezed, her eyes streaming. “What-did...you-do? He’s-got-enough-problems with the issues he has.”
“If you’re not a transporter, or a mule, Mom—” Henry was singing again, “then you stole it from the bank! Embezzling money is a crime, Mother. We’ll have to move to Mexico.” He took a bite of his sandwich and said to Garth with his mouth full, “I can’t imagine the prenatal care will be all it should be. Rural areas and all. Mom, at your age, I’d seriously rethink getting pregnant.”
“Henry,” Alison screeched. “Shut up. Just shut up. And close your mouth while you eat, you pig. And put your own damned clothes in the dryer!”
“Garth—he’s trying to kill me.” Mary Kathryn said jerkily, “It’s just like I said, death by accidental drowning. No jury will convict him.” Mary Kathryn coughed around her words, holding onto his forearm and the chair. “Don’t let him get me. Stop laughing! I need to try alligator just once. You promised. Then you’re going out and capturing the State Troopers flag and wipe their noses with it or our story will destroy me. My reputation doesn’t need embellishment. Make those troopers gnash their teeth. Paint notes on them for me—take pictures. Proof you were there.”
“What story?” Alison perked up. “You two have a run in with cops?”
“Mind you own business, young lady,” Garth said, still rubbing Mary Kathryn’s back. “Come on.” He helped Mary Kathryn straighten. “I put a new lock on your bedroom door. If you want me to burn the troopers flag, we can’t go to a motel. I’ll be busy filling out an application for the sheriff’s department all afternoon.”
“I’ve got some stuff I picked up in town for you for the weekend,” Mary Kathryn accepted his help to the door, recovering her breath. “It’s in my room, let’s take a look at it then I’ll help you with the County psych test. I’ve always wanted to take one of those.” Her watery smile was impish. “Wouldn’t it be amusing if I passed it for you?” Her damp eyes narrowed. “And while I fill in the answers, you can tell me why my son thinks I’m a—what did he say again, Garth? I couldn’t quite believe my ears.”
Henry and Alison were left staring at the empty doorway. Henry rose, finally he said, “It sounds like your dad is staying in Montana, Alison. As if he’s looking for a job. He’ll get it and get fired when his boss finds out my mother is a criminal...” He popped a chip into his mouth. “If you really think they’re going upstairs to fill out an application, Alison, you’re a fool. Go stop them and pack us for Mexico. My mother is a Viagra runner!”
“Oh, Henry,” Alison snapped. “Grow up! My God, what was I thinking? I can’t marry you, Henry. You’re...you’re an idiot.”
“Well,” he retorted sharply. “I can’t marry you if my mother is sleeping with your father! We’ll be related in some sick-o-pervy way! So there! Give me back my ring.”
“I paid for it, you little prick,” Alison screeched. “Kiss my ass. And get a job! I’m sick of you bumming off me. You owe my seven hundred dollars! I want my money!”
“You don’t have to be mean about it, Alison,” Henry yelled back. “Keep the damned ring. I never liked it anyway!”
Garth and Mary Kathryn were halfway up the stairs when the yelling from the kitchen ceased.
A door slammed a moment later. Then it slammed again.
“That just leaves you and me,” Garth said happily. “Peace and quiet, door that lock. Your bed and us in it.”
“Us in it, filling out your County application.” Mary Kathryn swatted Garth’s hands away as they fondled her bottom when she reached the top step.
“I’ve decided to buy our way out of the blackmail,” she told him over her shoulder, leading their way to her bedroom. “I’m giving Heather my waffle recipe—I have too. I know Wilson talks in his sleep. I’ll buy Wilson a house boat. He’s a boat whore. And if Beth opens her mouth, I’ll tell the Margarita Bingo Ladies Court she used a bottle of K9 P thinking it was a burn ointment when she was in
canine training with the FBI. K9 P is really canine pee. If Wilson and Beth want you, Garth, they’ll have to ask you nicely. I can out gossip them even if my panties were down.” She whirled happily as he locked her bedroom door behind them, catching him as he turned around.
She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans as he ran his hands up under hers, sliding them under the cups of her bra.
“I’ll have Wilson’s house boat dropped by helicopter into his backyard,” she told him. “Thank goodness the kids are gone.” She pressed hot kisses against his bare chest. “So, it’s just you and me, babe, with me trying to figure out how to tell you about that measly 17 million dollars—I can’t have anymore children, Garth.” Her teeth scraped over his nipple. “Really, babies are cool and all, but...well, I’m really too old for more babies.” She kissed his chin, the corner of his mouth. “And I’m too selfish. Besides, with Alison and Henry splitting up, we’ll have twice as many babies someday. I hope they get over their tiff. Holidays could get awkward otherwise, don’t you think?”
His fingers had stilled on her breasts. He muttered something then picked her up and carried her to her bed, plopping her down. When she rose from the waist he pushed her back with a firm, gentle hand between her breasts. His expression became intense as he unzipped her jeans and dragged them slowly down her legs, his hands lingering and caressing her thighs before his fingers caught the edges of her lacy pink panties.
“Take off your blouse,” he ordered softly.
Mary Kathryn sat up, grabbed the hem and lifted, watching as his eyes glittered. When she set it aside and unclasped her pink bra, Garth impatiently pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly toward a chair, kicking off his shoes, warmly eyeing her nakedness.
“That... thing you cleverly tossed into your chatter,” he said quietly, falling onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “I heard you... I thought we agreed I would be kept stupid. I could swear I told you to agree.” He bumped noses with her, staring into her eyes, long muscles and rougher masculine warmth against her softer, feminine body. He stared at her for the longest time, a slow smile growing. “But, the frugal miser in me jumped for joy and said Yippee, you can afford your own fishing bait...”