Copy

by B00ZADKX4A EBOK

  “So you went to culinary school to be a butcher?” Martin raised an eyebrow.

  “Nah, I believed I was destined to be the next Bobby Flay,” I boasted as we leisurely strolled down the sidewalk. “It was the line work that pissed me off. I was doing the cookin’ and the sweatin’, and not gettin’ the credit for any of it. I also realized that I enjoyed breakin’ down the various meats more than cooking them. In culinary school, the only subject I excelled in was breakin’ down an animal. Being a butcher is a better fit for me and I’m good at it.”

  “You know, the only time you talk as much as me is when you talk about Peg or your job,” Martin mused, a half-smile on his lips.

  “Yeah. I love’ em both,” I admitted.

  “What about someone to share your life with?” Martin asked, tilting his head toward me.

  “I had that with Daisy, but being a dad and workin’, hasn’t left a lot of time for myself.” I scuffed the grass with my boot heel. “And anyone I got involved with would have to understand how important Peg’s happiness is to me.”

  “How about someone in the same boat?” Martin replied. “I mean, a guy who has a kid of his own would understand.” I met his gaze at the odd note in his voice and saw a longing in his eyes I usually saw in my own reflection. “I know we’ve only been on one date, discountin’ Hobbins, but I’d like to see where this goes, Avery.”

  I mulled it over, not that it took me very long to respond. “Me, too. I can’t say I’m the best datin’ material. Daisy always said I was an introverted cuss and I tend to forget birthdays, anniversaries and appointments. I’m not the best about talkin’ about my feelins neither. I’m awful at shit like that. But if you think you can handle it, I’d like to give us a try.”

  “Cool!” He grinned from ear to ear, but his face fell as he checked his watch and he gave me baleful look. “I’m doin’ the late shift at work, so I gotta go.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and I flushed hot all over. “I’d like to kiss you but…” He gestured to the people milling about the park.

  “I know… later?” I murmured hopefully and he brightened. “Call me and we can make some plans.”

  “’Bye, Avery.” He turned to leave then obviously thought better of it ‘cause he darted forward to plant a fast, wet kiss on my lips. I was stunned at his audacity. He snickered as he jogged away and I was treated to a nice view of his ass. I touched my lips. They tingled from his kiss. I flicked out my tongue and tasted him. My body tightened with desire and I groaned low in my throat, wanting more of him. I sighed heavily.

  Shit, another night with the laptop and the bottle of lube—damn it.

  *

  Any doubts I’d had about Peg fitting into his new school quickly vanished by week two. He’d made two new friends in his class; Wally and Rolando. When I picked him up after school he’d chattered happily about his day on the drive home. I listened, commented when appropriate and let him do all the talking.

  Later that night he was doing his homework in the living room when I decided to broach the subject of me dating Martin. Momma and Mawmaw were cooking dinner and, of course, eavesdropping. Peg sat at the coffee table, head bent over his math book when I flopped down on the floor beside him. I cleared my throat and he looked up at me.

  “Peg, I gotta ask you somethin’.” Damn it, my palms were sweating.

  His eyes widened. “I didn’t do it,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

  Huh? “Do what?”

  “Nothin’, Daddy.”

  He gazed at me innocently and I raised an eyebrow. The little butthead was guilty of something, but that was a conversation for another day.

  “I’m goin’ out on a date this Friday and wanted to make sure you’re okay with it.”

  “A date?” His little brows knitted together. “With a person?”

  I tried not to chuckle. “Yes, with a person.”

  “Who is she?”

  All sounds of dinner preparation halted and the kitchen became real quiet.

  “It’s not a she,” I replied carefully. “It’s a he. It’s Mr. Gaither.” I could see he didn’t remember Martin. “Poppy’s dad… Martin,” I prompted. It was amusing to watch the realization of who Martin was dawn on him and he eyed me skeptically.

  “Does he know it’s a date?”

  I glanced at Momma and Mawmaw, and damn if the two busybodies weren’t laughing silently, their shoulders shaking. I turned back to Peg and answered him.

  “Yeah, bud, he does. Are you okay with me and Martin goin’ out?”

  He mulled it over in his little brain for a second before answering me. “I guess so. Uncle Boone and Uncle Cotton date guys.” He ducked his head and studied his fingers intently as he twiddled them. “Do you like him?’

  “Yeah, buddy, I do.” I saw no sense in lying to him.

  He lifted his gaze to meet mine and smiled. “Cool. I hope Poppy knows about this.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. That was it. He was done with the conversation.

  “I’m sure Martin is talkin’ to her about it,” I replied, ruffling his hair. “Go wash your hands. Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

  He dashed off toward the bathroom. That was easier than I thought.

  Shit! I had a second date—oh fuck!

  “Momma,” I pleaded. “Can you watch Peg for me Friday night?” I’d forgotten to ask if she’d watch him.

  “Can’t, sweetie,” she replied. “I have a date myself.”

  Say what?

  “What? With who? Do I know him?” Dumbfounded, I’m sure my jaw was on the ground. Recovering quickly, I scrambled to my feet and hurried the rest of the way into the kitchen. Momma had an impish smile tugging at her mouth as she set the table.

  “Bruce Canton. He’s a security guard at City of Hope. He’s takin’ me to dinner and a movie on Friday night.” Momma’s cheeks pinked up.

  “’Bout time, Lynnie,” Mawmaw said, her expression one of delight. “And don’t you worry none, Avery. I’ll mind Peg. Just make sure you both call me if you’re gonna be late. You know, iffin either of you gets lucky.” Momma blushed even deeper and I howled with laughter.

  “Momma!” She scolded Mawmaw. “It hasn’t been that long since I went out.”

  “Lynnie, please,” Mawmaw scoffed. “Last time you had a date, the boys were graduatin’ high school. I was sure your cooter had retired, gone home and gone to bed for good.”

  “Momma!” Scandalized, my Momma’s mortification was hilarious.

  “Momma nothin’,” Mawmaw continued, unabashed. “You’re growin’ cobwebs down there, Lynnie and its high time you got ’em dusted.”

  Embarrassed, Momma covered her face with her hands. Me? I was laughing so hard my face hurt. After I’d managed to get myself under control, I gave Mawmaw a kiss. “Thanks for mindin’ him for me.”

  “No problem, sugah. I hope you have a good time.” Mawmaw put the bowl of mash potatoes on the table. “’Course, we need to meet this man of yours Avery. Yours too, Lynnie.” She snapped her fingers gleefully. “I have a great idea. Why don’t both your dates pick you up here so the whole family can meet ‘em?”

  I had planned on picking Martin up, however it seemed my plans had been changed. “Fine with me.” Resistance was futile with Mawmaw. I tucked an errant lock of hair, which had come loose from my ponytail, behind my ear. Damn, my hair is getting long. I hadn’t cut it in over four years.

  Momma groaned and put the meatloaf on the table, refusing to look at us. Mawmaw guffawed and I yelled for Peg but, before he could holler back, the front door flew open and Boone and Cotton stomped in.

  “I knew I smelled meatloaf!” Boone crowed.

  Cotton toed off his boots by the door and padded into the kitchen. “And mashed ’tatters!” He plopped down into a chair and Boone did the same just as Peg came around the corner.

  “Hey, Pegster,” Cotton said.

  “Yo, Peg,” Boone added and Peg ran over and hugged them hello, one after the other.

  “Si
t down, Peg,” I instructed. “Time to eat.” He took the chair next to mine and Momma and Mawmaw joined us. Momma held out her hand and we all linked up as she said Grace.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you for this food. We give thanks for our family and our good health. Amen.” A chorus of ‘Amens’ followed and we started dishing out the food. My brothers and I ate like animals, talking with our mouths full or razzing each other, so mealtimes were a noisy affair at our house. We’ve had a great many meals around the old kitchen table; it was here that we caught up with each other’s days and gave both wanted and unwanted advice. We’re a family. We’re supposed to make each other crazy.

  Mawmaw shook her fork at Boone and Cotton. “Boys, your brother has a date on Friday.”

  Cotton’s fork froze in midair on its way to his mouth and he spouted off, “Call the Vatican. Hell just froze over.”

  Boone snorted water up his nose. “Damn, warn a guy, Cotton.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “It’s that hottie, Martin, isn’t it? The one you brought to the bakery.”

  “You’ve met him already? Not fair, bro.” Cotton pouted and Boone elbowed him.

  “Avery brought him to the bakery to score some free food,” Boone explained and licked his lips. “He’s redheaded, nice lips, nice round as—”

  “Child at the table!” Momma’s firm warning shut Boone up.

  “Momma’s got a date, too.” I knew I was a shit, but I wanted the attention off me.

  Both Boone and Cotton balked in astonishment.

  “Who is he?” Boone quizzed her.

  “Do we know him?” Cotton scowled.

  “Thanks, son,” Momma said, glaring at me before turning her gaze back to her other sons. “I work with him and no, you two don’t know him.”

  “He’s comin’ to pick her up on Friday night. Avery’s guy will be here, too!” Mawmaw was having way too much fun at our expense—damn old lady.

  “I’m definitely gonna be here.” Cotton huffed.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Boone’s shit-eating grin was pissing me off and I opened my mouth to say something when Mawmaw beat me to it.

  “You two will be on your best behavior—got it?” She stared them down and they both nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Good. It’s not like your Momma dates that often. She’s not like you two. You change boyfriends more often than your underwear.”

  “Mawmaw!” Boone chided, exasperated and Cotton merely rolled his eyes.

  “Momma… little ears.” Momma darted a look at Peg, who listened to the conversation with rapt attention.

  “What? I’m an old lady. I’m supposed to be colorful!” Mawmaw said imperiously.

  Boone snickered and Cotton looked pissed, but that was his natural expression. I may be an ole sour puss, and Boone may be the jokester but Cotton was the hothead. I love my brother and I’d defended him more than once, but he started most of the fights and deserved the lickings he got.

  “Smile, Cotton.” I couldn’t resist needling him, knowing he was upset.

  “Don’t want to.” He sat back and sulked—typical Cotton. All temper and no brain but before I could say anything Mawmaw reached over and smacked his arm—hard! “Ow, whadya do that for?” he whined as he rubbed his arm.

  “You will be happy for your Momma and you will shut your trap… you hear me, boy?” Mawmaw used The Voice—the one that told us she wasn’t going to take any shit from us. That voice used to precede an ass whupping when we were young’uns. Thankfully, we were too big for that now—I hoped.

  “Oh,” Peg drew out the word. “Uncle Cotton’s in trouble!” he sang as he swung his legs happily. Shoot, I’d be happy too, as long as Mawmaw wasn’t mad at me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cotton mumbled and stuck his tongue out at Peg, who only snorted a giggle from behind his hands. At times Cotton and Peg weren’t too much different in maturity.

  He resumed his dinner without talking and Boone rolled his eyes while I smirked at Momma. She grinned at me and continued to eat her dinner. The rest of the meal went without a hitch and Cotton eventually lightened up when no one fed into his sulk. Peg maintained a stream of constant chatter, and even old sulky butt couldn’t not smile at some of Peg’s odd and insightful comments.

  Once dinner was over I sent Peg to finish his homework and helped Boone and Cotton clear the table. Momma hadn’t got a dishwasher until we were fifteen so, until then, we did the dishes each night after dinner as a team. Not that we minded helping out, but the day the dishwasher was installed had been a joyous one. We still worked as a team, even though it didn’t take three of us anymore to do the dishes. Boone scraped the plates and I loaded them into the dishwasher along with the silverware, cups and pots. Cotton wiped up the table and shook out the rag in the trash.

  “So… tell me about your hottie, Avery,” Cotton said as he put the ketchup and horseradish sauce back in the fridge.

  “I met him at Peg’s school—”

  “Ah hah! That’s not where you met him the first time.” Boone corrected me.

  Damn him!

  “Asshole.” I sighed heavily. “I met him at Hobbins. He blew me by the pool.”

  There, I said it.

  “No shit? That’s fuckin’ hot and the next time you met him was at Peg’s school?” Cotton closed the fridge door and leant against it. “Awesome, bro.”

  “Yeah. His daughter’s in Peg’s class.” Boone put his two bits in.

  I will not blush!

  “Daughter? Man, he ain’t married is he? That’s a no-no.” Cotton’s mouth was set in a firm line.

  Seriously, Cotton’s trying to lecture me on morals?

  “No he ain’t. He’s divorced, you twunt and when did you get all high and mighty? You said married men are fair game!” Boone sniped at Cotton and poked him in the chest. Cotton smacked his hand away.

  “They are for you and me, but not Avery. He’s got Peg. That changes everythin’.”

  “Changes nuthin’, douchebag,” Boone fumed at him. “Don’t you think those married men you bang have kids?”

  “They ain’t Avery.” Stubbornly, Cotton refused to budge.

  “What’s so special ‘bout Avery? He’s got a dick just like us!” Boone folded his arms over his chest.

  Cotton waved his hands around expressively. “Avery’s not like us. He’s got standards.”

  “Excuse me?” I wanted to laugh, Boone looked so offended.

  “Ain’t no denyin’ it, Boone we’re sluts. We’re a pair of cock hounds.” I had to give it to Cotton, he was honest. “I think havin’ Peg made him better. He doesn’t fuck around all willy-nilly. Avery’s not a hoebag.” As hard as he’d tried to explain himself, he’d only succeeded in pissing Boone off more. I interceded before it got nasty.

  “Knock it off you two. You’re right and wrong about me Cotton.” Both stared at me, dumbfounded. “You act like I don’t have a dick sometimes! Boone’s right, I still have one, but I also have a kid. If I didn’t have Peg I’d be cattin’ around like both of you. Nothin’ is simple anymore. I envy you both some days.” There, I’d said it.

  “Why, bro?” Boone studied me where I leaned against the counter.

  “I give so much of my time to him,” I said, “that there ain’t much left for me. Havin’ a kid doesn’t leave you a whole lot of time for anything else.” I sagged and propped myself up by my thighs. “When Martin touched me, I remembered how much I’d missed it.”

  Damn it.

  I misted up and inwardly cursed my weakness.

  Typical of multiples, Boone and Cotton sensed my pain and, without asking, they both crossed the kitchen, opened their arms and hugged me. As a rule, the three of us don’t show a lot of affection to each other. We are guys after all and more likely to fart on each other or burp in each other’s faces. This was one of those few times we got mushy.

  “Thanks.” I heaved a ragged breath.

  Boone looked me in the eye, as he let me go. “No problem, bro. We’re the Myer Triplets.
We take care of our own.”

  “To the end.” Cotton whispered.

  His eyes were bright and I bumped my head to his. Cotton’s temper was hot and his emotions were powerful, like a tornado. He loved, laughed and fought with everything he was. He was also the most sensitive out of the three of us and if Boone or I were sick, Cotton would be by our side the entire time until we felt better. His love for us was honest, powerful and my baby brother was a good man. Funny, calling him my baby brother since he’s really only a few minutes younger than me.

  “”Nough of this sappy shit. I gotta kid to get to bed.” I patted Cotton on the back and strode out of the kitchen.

  “We’re still gonna be here on Friday,” Boone called out.

  I paused in the doorway and threw them a resigned look over my shoulder. “That’s cool, but hands off, shitheads. Martin Gaither’s mine.”

  I walked down the hall and knocked on Peg’s bedroom door. I opened it and my heart swelled at the sight of Peg at his desk. His tongue poked out the side of his mouth while he concentrated. I strode over to him and noted he was working on his math homework, with simple addition and subtraction questions tonight’s tasks. I put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Need some help, Peg?”

  He put his hands on his head, obviously frustrated. “Yeah,” he confessed and I sat on his bed. I spent the next hour with him, going over his sums. Most guys my age might be out dancing and drinking—not me. I was with my boy and wouldn’t change it for the world.

  *

  Where the hell are my lucky boots?

  Crawling around on my hands and knees on the floor in my bedroom closet, I flung pair after pair of dress shoes, tennis shoes, boots and flip flops out into the room as I searched for my favorite pair of boots.

  I want my lucky boots.

  They were a pair of worn-in brown in Dingos I’d bought on sale, years ago. They fit like a glove and I’d been wearing them when I met Daisy, and the day Peg was born.

  I reached above me to a stack of three boxes containing more shoes and yanked at the bottom one. I should have known better. All three boxes tumbled down and whacked me on the head. I sat back on my haunches, cursing as I rubbed my head.