Booze O'clock

by Bijou Hunter

  Curly hair cut short, Chevelle looks so much like Ruby. I also notice her smile matches her son’s. Two-year-old, Jamal, rides high in his father’s arms as they stand with Bonn and Adric.

  Before we get drawn toward them, Ruby appears with the Hallstead sisters in tow. The three blonde broads take turns giving Tatum a hug and congratulating us on our wedding. Eloise makes a minor dig at how she wasn’t even aware we were engaged. Hint: we should have invited them to the ceremony.

  “It was an impromptu wedding on Thanksgiving,” Tatum says, bullshitting like a pro.

  “So romantic,” the eternally single Alice coos. “We want you to know your father isn’t welcome at this party or in our homes. You’ll never have to worry about running into Jude while visiting us. We know how he is.”

  Tatum gives them a brilliant smile she totally inherited from Marissa Dole, and the women are charmed. I swear I could disappear and the Hallstead women would never notice.

  Keeping the smile plastered on her face, Tatum meets Clara Hallstead’s sons, Camden and Dayton, who then introduce her to their wives, Daisy and Harmony, who introduce her to their children...

  Around the room we go, stopping to meet one group of people after another. I have no doubt Tatum won’t remember most of them, but she never stops smiling. Only once does she look even the tiniest bit nervous, and that’s upon meeting her niece, Chevelle.

  “Mom told me all about you,” Chevelle says and hugs Tatum.

  The awkwardness ends immediately. Chevelle is quite a good hugger. Tatum looks at me and smiles reassuringly. Only then, I realize I’m the one who’s really nervous. I refuse for my relationship with my first love to upset my relationship with the woman who’ll be my forever love.

  “Can I speak with Chipper for a minute?” Chevelle asks.

  Before she can respond, Tatum gets distracted by the mini-twins’ squeals when they catch sight of her. While she coos over them, I wink at Dexter and walk a few feet away with Chevelle.

  “She’s really hot,” Chevelle says immediately. “She must look like her mom.”

  “Oh, yeah. So Dexter seems like the possessive type,” I say and grin at her tall, dark-skinned hunk of a husband. He’s desperate to break up our reunion. “Do you think he could take me in a fight?”

  “No. He’s tough, but you cheat.”

  “All the best people do, Chevelle.”

  Grinning, she playfully punches my arm. “You can’t know how relieved I am that you fell in love with someone so beautiful and sweet. I was really worried I broke you permanently when I dumped your clingy ass.”

  “It was all about the nookie between us.”

  “Dexter’s better in bed,” she says immediately.

  “Well, Tatum giggles more in bed than you ever did, so take that.”

  When Chevelle laughs, her husband looks ready to storm over. “I think I should get back to Dexter and Jamal.”

  “He’s a handsome kid. Looks a lot like his dad, but I see you in his smile.”

  “You always say that when you see Jamal.”

  “What the fuck else am I going to say?” I ask, throwing my hands up dramatically. “He’s two, and I don’t know shit about him besides he craps his diapers and eats carrots.”

  “If you want to know him better, why not visit us in Montego Bay? I bet Tatum would enjoy the beach since she’s from Florida.”

  “Ruby gave you the entire backstory on Tatum, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah, she was on the phone like five minutes after meeting her. It was a damn conference call with Daisy and Harmony. Nana Sally even jumped into the chaos. I mean, shit, Chipper. Howler’s bastard daughter shows up out of the blue and moves into your house days later. That’s grade-A gossip.”

  “Did you hear about Howler’s dentures?”

  “Yeah,” she says, patting my arm. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to yank out his teeth. I’m sure you cried when you realized your big plan was a bust.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Pussy,” she taunts before turning to smile at Dexter who can no longer stand aside.

  “What are you talking about?” he asks.

  Chevelle immediately says, “Chipper cries too much.”

  “Your wife is mean,” I point out.

  Dexter looks relieved that he won’t have to throw down to defend his woman’s honor. While he whispers to Chevelle, I catch sight of Tatum watching me from the floor where she sits with the twins.

  “She never uses a chair,” I mutter. “She’s going to make a great mother.”

  Chevelle takes Jamal from his father. “You better get started on that immediately. You’re not getting any younger, and Cricket’s already ahead by two.”

  My sister appears just in time to hear how she’s winning. “Poor Chipper,” she says and hugs me. “You’re shooting blanks, aren’t you, pal?”

  Rolling my eyes, I push her off and walk to Tatum. “Younglings, let the poor woman get off the ground.”

  “She’s our friend,” Murphy says, sounding as possessive as Dexter looked minutes ago.

  “Yeah, but her ass needs off the ground.”

  Tatum grins at me and takes the drink I offer her. Cricket wraps an arm around my breezy and sips her cider. Grimacing at the flavor of what she assumes is booze, my sister takes a moment to put two and two together.

  “Shut up,” I warn.

  “I love you so much, Chipper Wilburn!” Cricket yells, scaring the shit out of everyone.

  This is the moment Hayes, Mom, and Bianca Bella arrive. Triple eye rolls ensue as they join us. I pray Cricket will keep her big mouth shut. Before I can make threats, Tatum whispers into my sister’s ear. Just like that, Cricket’s big mouth zips closed, and our secret remains undisclosed.

  Well, for now. I have no doubt my family will be talking about the baby at the Waffle House on Monday. Tatum must know too because she only grins at me. My family is hers now, and none of their antics surprise her.

  Tonight is when I officially turn Breezy into one of us. I swear Tatum’s never looked happier.

  TATUM EPILOGUE

  I love pregnancy. The bit of nausea at the beginning and feeling like an overheated hippo at the end does nothing to ruin the wonderful middle part. The first time I feel our baby kick, I jump up and down like a hyperactive kid. I record Chipper Jr.’s heartbeat, loop the sound, and listen to it at night. I adore maternity clothes and start wearing them when I’m two months along. In fact, I’m sporting my favorite “baby on the way” top during my first time on the ski slopes. I don’t do much actual skiing that time, or the next since I find myself pregnant again by then, but I do enjoy the snow. I’m nearly as crazy about making mutant snowmen as I am about pregnancy.

  I’m convinced my first baby is a boy named Ridge. We forego learning the baby’s gender because I think a surprise would be fun. Plus, my heart knows it’s a son.

  Of course, we don’t have a boy.

  “Told you,” Chipper teases when the doctor reveals our slimy baby girl. “I dreamed she would be bald too, and I was right.”

  Our daughter isn’t bald, though. After she gets cleaned up, we discover a fine layer of fair blonde hair.

  “I’m always right,” Chipper says even though he’s obviously wrong.

  “You’ve been up too long,” I tell my sleepy husband who never left my side during the terminally boring first twelve hours of labor, the excruciating—until drugs—last three hours, or the extremely loud pushing final section. Chipper kept me entertained the entire time, even making me smile when the pushing began really pissing me off. Now he looks ready to drop while I’m enjoying a second wind.

  “Rest so you’ll be ready to take over when I fudging crash.”

  Chipper grins at my refusal to cuss. In fact, even when I was in the worst kind of pain during delivery, I only used watered-down profanity. His favorites were “mother friender” and “son of a hot wing.”

  I pick the name Mesa for my firstborn daughter to honor my mother—bot
h names start with an “M” and end with an “A”—and Chipper’s love of Colorado mountains. My baby’s middle name is Sweet as a tribute to Candy.

  “None of Honey’s kids gave their kids silly names as a tribute,” Candy tells Hayes. “Mine love me more.”

  “At least her first name isn’t awful,” Hayes replies and gets an elbow from Candy to the gut for his effort. “What?”

  I know I’m biased, but I swear Mesa looks just like my mother. Her fair blonde hair. Her big goofy smile. The softness around her eyes when she’s sleepy. She’s the spitting image of her grandmother.

  Of course, Mesa also has Chipper’s rich brown eyes and thick dark lashes. She sounds like Cricket when she laughs and looks like Candy when she’s pissed. I swear she even growls like Hayes when she’s hungry.

  I read online that I’m unlikely to get pregnant while breastfeeding. As Chipper points out after the positive pregnancy test, “The definition of unlikely is not impossible.”

  Shocked to be pregnant less than two months after giving birth, I put the blame squarely on the sexy man who tempted me into this situation. “You should have used those condoms you bought when we first met.”

  “Yes, I could have, but I was too excited about fucking my breezy again to think about the consequences.”

  That consequence is our “Irish twin” named Ridge.

  “You’re such a copycat,” Cricket taunts Chipper. “Since you couldn’t have real twins, you pulled this bullshit. It’s sad really.”

  “If I wasn’t so tired,” Chipper says, lounging in a chair with Mesa in his lap, “I’d beat you senseless.”

  “Well, you’d try.”

  “I certainly would,” he says, sharing her smile.

  “Shut up,” Hayes grumbles. “Why is this kid’s middle name, Longhorn?”

  Candy takes the paper Hayes looks at and shakes her head. “Why do you insist on following in Toby Eddison’s footsteps by naming your children dumb shit?”

  “What about Cap?” Cricket points out immediately.

  “Leave me out of this,” the giant teenager says from his spot in the corner. “I’m just here to film this miracle.”

  “Longhorn,” I say with a raspy voice since Ridge’s giant monster head caused a whole lot of screaming on my part during labor, “is to honor Angus.”

  “They’re both kinds of cattle,” Chipper says.

  Cricket laughs so hard at this reasoning that I think she pees a little. She certainly hurries into the bathroom fast enough. Cap probably doesn’t pee, but he chuckles until it’s time for the family to leave.

  Hayes, though, decides he likes the name since he never has to call the baby by it.

  “Ridge sounds like a soap opera name,” Candy says.

  “Big talk from a woman with a stripper’s name,” Chipper replies.

  “Your name is Chipper,” she growls at him.

  “Can we all agree,” I mumble, “that you people have weird names and pretend that’s a good thing?”

  “Spoken like the family’s voice of reason,” Candy says and kisses my forehead. “You’re wise. You treat my boy right. You make beautiful babies. What else can a mother ask for?”

  I truly feel like Candy is my second mother. The way she steps in when I’m especially indecisive reminds me of my mom. Candy isn’t pushy, but she’s never afraid to speak up and help me. Chipper got that confidence from his mom, and I hope our kids grow up to be the same way.

  Howler was never a father, and I didn’t think I needed one. If I described the kind of man I wanted as a dad, Hayes wouldn’t fit the bill. He isn’t a hugger. He doesn’t drop compliments easily. He tends to growl more than speak. Underneath his scary surface, he’s a big softie, though.

  I love watching him play with his grandkids. He’s so gigantic, and they’re so small, but somehow they always wrap him around their tiny fingers. Chipper said Hayes was the same way with Cricket and him, but I hadn’t believed it until I watch him hold Mesa the first time. Then Hayes goes and tells the baby how she’s lucky to have such a good mama, and I’m a sobbing mess. Considering my tearful reaction, I can understand why he doesn’t often compliment people.

  Chipper and I ease right into parenthood. The kids and I join him on many of his errands, and I’m still technically his assistant. We usually have breakfast with the family at Waffle House. Every other week, we either visit Bonn, Ruby, and Adric, or they come to our house for dinner. Nearly every day, I stop by Cricket’s, and once a month, I try a new recipe Bianca Bella teaches me. Life doesn’t change much with each baby. I suspect having a tight-knit family makes parenthood so much easier.

  My mom somehow raised me all alone, and I’ll never forget everything she gave up to make my childhood so wonderful. I’m blessed with opportunities she never enjoyed, but I try not to let myself feel guilty. Mom worried so much about leaving me alone, and I have no doubt she brought Chipper into my life. She knew he was an amazing man with an amazing family who lived in an amazing town. To honor her, I wake up every morning ready to embrace whatever blessing comes next.

  CHIPPER EPILOGUE

  After Ridge’s birth, Tatum starts birth control. For the first time in nearly two years, she and Mistress Booze reunite for a moonshine-filled weekend blitz when we travel to West Virginia with the family. I nearly forgot how much she dances when drunk. I did not forget how quickly she gets naked, though. I make sure we have a hotel room to ourselves so she can shake her bare ass at me to her heart’s content.

  “I’m going to have a raging headache tomorrow,” she says, standing above me on the bed and swaying her hips. “Do you think Candy and Hayes will watch the kids the entire weekend?”

  “I don’t know. Unless my lack of knowledge makes you stop doing that,” I murmur and gesture toward her juicy slit, “then they most definitely will.”

  Tatum smiles at me in a way that I’ve desperately missed. There’s just something especially sexy about my drunken breezy.

  Despite her claims to want a kid-free day, Tatum can’t stay away for an entire twenty-four hours. I’m not much better and keep messaging Mom to send photos of Mesa and Ridge. Our little Irish twins end up looking the same age once my manly son catches up in size with his daintier sister. By the time he’s two, they’re the same height. Mesa, though, runs the show and protects her younger brother. She somehow manages to be an emotionally tender-hearted child like her mother and a pushy, know-it-all like her father. Mostly, her mood depends on if she’s speaking for herself or her quieter brother. Mesa’s unhappiness leads to simple tears. Ridge’s tears lead to Mesa threatening to steal people’s shoes. For whatever reason, at three years old, she decides this is the most terrifying threat for grownups. We’re apparently always losing our shoes, and she will make our situation worse if we don’t give her brother whatever he wants.

  Like with Cricket’s mini-twins, the key to remaining sane is to wear out their little bodies with activities. Mesa loves visiting restaurants with me, and I hire her as a second assistant when she’s four.

  “I need a raise,” she tells me on her second day.

  “Me too,” Tatum says while spinning around Ridge.

  “I wouldn’t mind a raise,” Mom adds from her desk. “Your father rewards me with orgasms when I’d rather have cash.”

  I shoot Mom a dirty look. “The kids are right here.”

  “Oh, they’re not paying attention to me. Stop being such a prissy bitch.”

  “Bitch,” Ridge mumbles nearby.

  Shrugging, Mom laughs. “Oh, well, he doesn’t know what it means.”

  “We’re trying to raise our kids in a profanity-free house,” I somehow say with a straight face.

  “Then you shouldn’t have played tennis in front of them last week. I was inside the club and could still hear you screaming ‘fuck’ at your sister.”

  “Well, she cheats,” I say, shrugging.

  “I cheat too,” Mesa tells me.

  Wrapping her in my arms, I whisper,
“All the best people do.”

  Tatum only smiles. She’s well past trying to keep the kids from learning my bad habits.

  Where snow’s involved, Ridge and Mesa take after Tatum. They love the ski lodge, spending hours on the bunny slopes with their mom. I expect them to get quickly bored and head inside for cocoa and a warm swim. Instead, they’re snow bunnies and can remain outside for an entire day. Eventually, I lure them in with promises of food and toys. That works for the kids, but Tatum requests a massage as payment for leaving her beloved snow.

  “Breezy needs a long, passionate rubdown,” I say and wiggle my brows.

  Every time I pull the same move, Tatum follows me and the kids into the lodge. She always whispers the same words that leave me feeling like a fucking king: “My hero.”

  Tatum was lost when we met. Even now, she gets painfully indecisive at times. And there are days when Tatum misses her mom so much that she can barely breathe. While I can’t fix my breezy, I did offer her a new direction. Her life now includes people willing to love her enough to make decisions when she can’t, hold her when the pain is too much to bear, and protect her even from herself. We’re also more than willing to abduct Howler and steal his dentures every year.

  That’s how family works in White Horse.

  ABOUT BIJOU

  Living in Indiana with my three sweet sons, three wacky cats, one super mom (and her ugly dog), I love cats, 1970s music, Call of Duty, and sitcoms canceled before their time.

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