by Rose Hudson
Me: Yep. If you hurry, maybe you can warm me up before Ruth wakes up :)
After double checking both mine and Ruth’s bags and changing my outfit from jeans to leggings, I’m standing in the kitchen watching a fresh cup of coffee brew as I hear Patrick’s quiet voice down the hall from the front door.
“Beauty, you down here?” God, I love it when he calls me that. Every muscle in my body responds as his voice spreads over me like warm rays of sunshine. That voice, like every perfect part of him, owns me whether he knows it or not. I lean over the bar so he can see me from the entryway.
“In here!” I wave my arm at him like my loud mouth wasn’t enough to grab his attention. As he steps around the large main door and comes into view, wearing no ball cap, worn light wash jeans and a navy blue half-zip pullover, my mouth instantly waters. I have to clench my mouth closed to keep drool from spilling out of the corner. Thick chestnut hair combed back, and eyes of silver stars as he walks toward me through the dark hallway. As if all of that wasn’t enough, I register that his tawny bronze skin is smooth and freshly shaven, his beard gone causing him to look the part of old moneyed grace. It fit him so well that a million questions burst forth in my mind, but I knew better than to let them pass my lips and ruin the soul shattering smile spread wide across his features.
“Good Morning,” his voice came low and deep, traces of lust ever present even though we’d yet to share the first touch. Feeling the need to rectify that, and my craving for him urgent in my fingertips, I lean up on my toes and place a simple kiss to his lips to quell my senses.
“You are gorgeous. Absolutely stunning,” I say, although I’m sure it’s not the exact words a manly man wants to hear, I don’t care. It’s the truth. I am stunned and completely overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the man. Like somehow in almost two months I’m seeing him for the first time. The corner of that gorgeous mouth quirks up into an amused grin as he wraps his thickly muscled arm around my back, pulling me to him and crushing his mouth to mine as he lifts me onto the island counter. Wrapping my legs tight around his waist, my bare feet nudging the taut muscles of his ass, I feel the instant heat of my need for him coat my sex. Hands gripping my ass, pulling me into the growing hardness of him, I shamelessly rock against him, the friction shooting pleasure straight through me like a shotgun bullet.
“Hey Mom, you down there?” I freeze quicker than a drop of rain falling in Antarctica at Ruth’s voice, thankfully coming from the upstairs landing. I bite my lip, stifling a burst of laughter as I take in the look of horror on Patrick’s face. Exhaling a thick breath, I quickly answer, hoping it will keep her from coming down the stairs.
“I’m in the kitchen. You dressed yet?”
“Almost. How long before we leave?” I sit up straighter to look around Patrick to the clock on the stove; 7:30.
“In thirty minutes,” I call back to her, eyes connected with Patrick’s again.
“Is Patrick here yet?” I giggle quietly, and kiss his chin as he answers for me.
“Yeah squirt, I’m here.” The deep rumble of his voice vibrates where his chest connects with mine and shoots right to my still throbbing clit, making me squeeze my legs tighter around him.
“Yay, okay. I’ll be down in five minutes.” I hear her running footsteps above us as her bedroom door closes. Gently running my nails across his scalp, I look up into his eyes, wondering if mine reflect a twinkle at the massive size of my heart in this moment. Knowing that he is going with me and my daughter, that he wouldn’t let us do this alone. Lord if I don’t feel like I’m walking on clouds.
“She is so excited that you’re going. It’s possible she may try to talk your ear off on the drive. You ready to be cooped up with us for six hours?” Both his arms wrap tightly around me as he speaks, lips a feather across mine with each word.
“I can’t wait. Who needs ears anyway?” He grins at me, holding me tight to him, taking my mouth in a deep kiss that melts my heart right along with my panties. An almost inaudible whimper leaves my lips as he pulls away and lowers me from the counter. I can only imagine the disgruntled look on my face, because he chuckles and presses a kiss to my hair. “Come on. We better get everything loaded up before I spread you out across that bar. Then we’ll never get gone,” his voice fades into the distance as he reaches the front door, grabbing our bags and turning to smile at me before stepping outside. I have to stand in the silence for a minute and collect myself because everything feels so easy, so natural. Like we’ve been doing this forever. Early morning foreplay, forehead kisses and panty-melting words. Fresh cups of hot coffee and packed bags for family road trips. It all suddenly seems so normal with him here, and I suddenly feel so scared and out of control because I know he just took the very last piece of my heart. Now all of it belonged to him whether I was ready for it or not.
Some people like road trips and some don’t. I am definitely on the ‘hell no’ side of the fence, usually. But sitting in the passenger seat, listening to Patrick hum softly to the radio and finally getting to catch up on the love story of Cole and Clair in ‘Break in Two’, a book that I have read more times than I care to admit. I’m still trying not to freak the hell out at how right everything feels. We’ve been on the road for three hours and in that time I’m pretty sure that Ruth and Patrick have grazed every topic there is; arguing about what animals would win paired up in a duel, to what holidays are the best and why. The conversation and carefree banter between the two of them has held me captive and caused my reading to take a backseat for most of the trip so far. The last discussion, about their favorite foods ended amicably about thirty minutes ago when they both caved, deciding they didn’t care what we ate for lunch as long as Patrick pulled into the next place we came across. Coming into Vaiden, Mississippi, close to the I-55, we spot a sign for Carmack Fish House and Patrick slows the SUV. Coming to a stop and gathering my purse, I look over to him, surprised to see that he is looking intently in the rear view mirror at Ruth, who appears sullen and hasn’t yet looked up from where she types frantically on her phone. I open my mouth to speak but he places his hand on my thigh and shakes his head.
“What is it,” I ask, confused, coming out of my book coma to realize that apparently I’ve missed something somewhere.
“I’ve been watching her for the last ten minutes and I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s upset,” he speaks incredibly soft trying hard not to let Ruth hear him. I look back at her and she is now in the third row, having apparently climbed over from where she previously sat behind us.
“Ruth? You ready to eat?” Her head whips up and she nods at me, putting up a shield and forcing a smile on her face.
It’s a small, middle of nowhere place, but it smells wonderfully satisfying as we walk in. Patrick and Ruth follow behind me, elbowing each other as he tries his best to bring her out of the sudden funk she’s gotten in. I know my daughter. She’s about to be twelve and I can bet money that she is fighting with one of her friends. At this age the world is so small and it centers around friends and the beginning of every female’s down fall…boys. Ruth has yet to have a ‘boyfriend’, not that her recent attention hasn’t shifted to that of the male persuasion, I assume by her half of phone conversations I’ve overheard. I look around the small restaurant, buffet along one wall and a few tables in the middle, spotting a group of what appears to be junior high football players judging by their letterman jackets, and an older couple in the corner. The smell of cornbread dressing and hot apple cobbler meet my nose, making me realize just how hungry I am. I turn back to look at Patrick and Ruth, gesturing to a table and four chairs. I sit in a chair against the wall and Ruth sits beside me as Patrick settles in a seat across from us. Almost immediately a young waitress approaches to get our drink order and we all agree to have the buffet. As the waitress leaves, I put my arm around Ruth, pulling her into my side and kissing the top of her head.
“So are you going to tell us what’s wrong or are you going to make me pull i
t out of you,” I poke her in the side, eliciting a small but forced giggle from her. She looks up, first at Patrick and then me, a rare glint of shyness in her features. I raise an eyebrow over her head at Patrick.
“It’s nothing really. Bre texted me and said that her and Elleese are at the movies and she saw Justin Bates with Shawna Wisener,” she says nonchalantly, doing her best to play it off as nothing. Before I have the chance to respond, Patrick surprises me by speaking up first.
“And I’m guessing you like this Justin kid,” he asks, lowering his head to gain eye contact with her as she rolls her napkin-covered silverware back and forth across the table.
“Yeah. We were supposed to go to the winter dance together in two weeks, but I guess not.” I feel a hitch in her breathing as my hand rubs her back and I know she’s fighting the urge to cry.
“Then you’ll just find someone else to go with,” I say, trying to ease her mind and brighten her spirits, but she isn’t impressed, continuing to toy with her utensils.
“I hate to tell you this, but us guys can be really dumb. Sometimes we need a slap in the face. Ya know what I mean?” Ruth looks up at him and gives him a halfhearted smile. Feeling like my bladder is going to explode and knowing there isn’t anything else to say on the matter, I kiss her head again and stand.
“I’m going to the lady’s room. Do you need to go.” She shakes her head no. I peer dejectedly at Patrick and step around Ruth’s chair to make my way to the other side of the restaurant. I look back at them before entering the bathroom and see Patrick talking to the football players at the table across from ours. Guys and sports.
Walking out of the restroom, looking down to check myself and smoothing my shirt, I’m hit with the sound of Ruth’s laughter. I jerk my head up in the direction of our table, stopping in my tracks at what I see. She is standing with the four football players as Patrick takes a picture of them with Ruth’s phone. What in the world? Walking in their direction, Patrick catches sight of me, a sly smile touching his lips as he does. Before I can say anything, he hands the phone to Ruth, who’s demeanor has done a one-eighty in my absence, and puts his arm around me, pulling me in the direction of the buffet.
“What…,” he cuts me off with a shake of his head, handing me a plate from the stack sitting on the end of the food line.
“Don’t you worry, Mama Bear. It’s nothing. Let’s eat, I’m starving.” Confused as hell, I look back where the boys are waving bye to Ruth as her fingers work quickly on her phone. Snapping my head back, taking in the gorgeous cat-got-the-cream smile across Patrick’s face, I shake my head and begin putting food on my plate. I’m anxious to get back to the table and let Ruth fill me in. Patrick beats me there and Ruth is immediately shoving her phone in his face. I set my plate down and snatch it from him to see what all the fuss is about. On the screen is the picture of her with the boys. It’s been posted to her Facebook page with the caption, “Eating lunch with the Montgomery County Junior High Football Champions”. I look back up and Ruth has disappeared to fix her plate at the buffet, so I look to Patrick who is stuffing his face with that shit-eating grin still firmly in place, knowing I’m staring him down, but refusing to make eye contact with me.
“What’s all this about?” My words are tight as I fight the urge to smile. He takes a drink of his sweet tea and looks across at me as I settle in my chair.
“Well, I just figured I’d help things along is all.” My eyes narrow as I glare at him, getting a prize-winning smile from him in return as he continues. “Like I said, sometimes us guys just need a slap in the face.”
“So you got her to post a picture of herself with some guys she didn’t know on Facebook?” I try to hide the irritation in my voice as I say this, but like always he doesn’t miss anything.
“Look, the last thing she needs to feel is down on herself. It was harmless and It made her feel better, so what does it matter? Plus, I bet this Justin kid treats her with the respect she deserves when they go back to school Monday, what do ya bet?” I process his words and although I’d like to be the overbearing mother I usually am, I can’t help the pang of pleasure I feel at the concern etched in what he says. As if I’m the Grinch, my heart feels like it grows three sizes and the smile that spreads over my face is uncontrollable. He did that for Ruth because he didn’t want her to feel less than she was for even a second. How can I allow myself to ruin this moment because the tactics used weren’t something I’d do? I look up to watch Ruth bounce back to the table with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face and I know that I can’t, and I won’t, because it’s pretty damn great actually.
Isn’t it crazy how even if you’ve been gone from home for what seems like forever, when you return everything still feels so familiar? Pulling into Memphis, I’m instantly transported back in time as the sounds and smells register. I feel homesick and nervous and regretful and angry all at once. I have to take a deep cleansing breath to calm my racing heart as the GPS tells us that in a mile we will reach our destination. As if he can read my mind, somehow knowing what I need is his touch, Patrick’s hand finds mine and as I expected, my nerves subside slightly. Gripping it tight, I close my eyes and think back to the last time I saw my parents.
Unlike most days I’d ever been to a funeral, when the weather was dark and dreary and fitting for the occasion, I was thankful to see the sun peering in through the curtains as I woke and lifted my head from its position on the edge of Ruth’s bed. Young and understandably affected by Glendon’s death, she wouldn’t fall asleep without me by her side and I couldn’t pry myself from her, so I stayed; falling asleep in a chair beside her. It had been a week since the crash and neither of us had slept through the night since. Ruth waking up intermittently throughout the night from nightmares, and me, waking up with every move she made and every harsh breath or whimper escaping her lips. Although his military career had taken us all over, I decided to have him buried in Memphis since this is where we both grew up for the most part. So upon word of his death I had packed us up and flew us back to make arrangements for his body to be transferred and buried in Memphis. Walking down the stairs of my parents’ house and into the kitchen to start the coffee, I waited impatiently for it to brew so I could grab a cup and get back to Ruth’s side so she didn’t wake up without me there. I had expected to see my father at the table when I walked down, being that he always woke up extremely early on the mornings he wasn’t passed out drunk, but the house had been shockingly silent. I could hear cars driving by and horns in the distance, but other than that, the house stood eerily still. I on the other hand felt a feather’s drop away from falling apart. Wondering how in the world I would keep this from affecting our daughter long-term. Wondering what in the world I would do to keep us afloat, and hoping that between my parents and his, we would have the emotional support needed while I figured it all out. Grabbing my mug and filling it with coffee, I quickly made my way up the stairs, pleased to see her still sleeping when I walked into the bedroom. About the time that I sat down and I’m guessing the deep aromatic smell of the coffee hit her little nose, she shot up in the bed, calling my name in fear and reaching out for me. I had crawled into bed with her and pulled her in tight to me, wanting with all my heart to take her pain away and praying that God would give me the words to answer the inevitable questions I knew would come. They had come every day for the last week and I knew that day wasn’t any exception. After trying my best to ease her mind and her heart, we’d been lying there for well over an hour when I finally quit putting off the inevitable and looked at the bedside clock, registering that it was only an hour before we’d need to be at the funeral home. Because of the severity of the helicopter crash, they’d only been able to recover a portion of Glendon’s body. But because I wanted him to have the military funeral he deserved, I’d still opted to have him buried so that at least, Ruth would have a place to come and memorialize her father. No he hadn’t been as present in her life as I had wanted him to be, but when he did
show up there had been no denying the connection shared between the two of them. Having a place that she could come and remember the respected Army Captain he’d been, and the loving father she knew, was of utmost importance to me. I remember that next hour being a blur of activity as I had bathed her and gotten us both dressed, continually checking downstairs to see if my parents had woken up. After I had put her in our car, preparing to leave, I had gone back inside to my parents’ room to wake them, but had found their room empty. I had called my mother’s cell phone, but had gotten no answer. Leaving a note reminding them of the time, confused at where they could possibly be on a Thursday morning at nine o’clock, a Thursday morning in which their daughter was burying her husband, I had left their house livid, but knowing they would surely show up and be there as support for Ruth and I. When the funeral service concluded and we made our way to the graveside service, I just knew that their car would be there waiting for us. There we stood, Ruth and I, saying goodbye to her father and my husband, alongside his parents and the few military officers in attendance. But no, my parents weren’t there. After the conclusion of the service I had asked his parents to take Ruth back to their house and I had drove like a mad woman across town back to my parents’ house. Busting through the front door I had found them, along with my dad’s band mates, drunk and having a good ol’ time in the living room. They preceded to tell me that they had left last night after Ruth and I had gone to bed to meet up with everyone for Jeff’s birthday. I don’t remember all of what happened next, but I know that I had calmly walked upstairs and packed the few items we’d brought with us and carried it out to the car. I had even changed out of the black dress I had been wearing because I remember having on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. But after that it’s all a big blur. Other than grabbing my dad’s prize possession, his guitar, and smashing it into a million pieces, I just remember leaving. I never even said anything about the funeral. Never told them exactly what I thought of them. It wouldn’t have done any good. A few days later when we made it back to Alabama, I had gotten a voicemail from my mother saying that they had found my note in the kitchen after I left and that they had forgotten about the funeral being that day. Forgotten that their son-in-law was being buried that day. I had thrown the phone out the window and changed my number after that. Hell bent on never speaking to them again.