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Chapter 23JuneWhen I was still with Lambert, my high school boyfriend, who had moved up to Atlanta for college, Lambert brought a guy named Penn home for Thanksgiving break. Penn was from somewhere up north—I think maybe New Hampshire. He wore loafers, skinny jeans, and big sweaters. I remember I thought he was hot in that nerdy kind of way.
When they first rolled into town for the break, Shawn was watching movies at my house with me. I remember he took one look at Penn and told me he could turn Penn redneck in one weekend.
It turned out to be true. Penn was stuffing his face with dumplins and fried bacon and biscuits and guzzling down sweet tea like it was his last meal. At some point, Shawn and his friends brought moonshine to my house, where Penn and Lambert were camped out—Mama had just passed the year before—and Penn got so drunk, I thought we might have to take him to the ER. The next day, Shawn had him smoking cigars on the porch swing, drinking Dickel Barrel Select straight out of the bottle.
It’s the same damn thing with Burke, or that’s the look of it. Shawn has set his sights on Mr. Sly, and he’s not giving up until Burke passes out cold on the porch swing or swears he’ll live and die a Dawgs fan.
I can tell they’re drinking moonshine because when I pass through with a swarm of kids, headed for the back porch via the kitchen so they can do a pinata I set up back there, Shawn and Burke hold their Solo cups behind their backs and sit up straighter on the swing, both smiling too big for the occasion. Also, No-Good Marcus is around. That guy’s a drug dealer, I swear, but Shawn thinks he’s just a nice dude from Albany.
It irks me that Burke is hanging out with them. Even though I guess I should be grateful. If Shawn hadn’t taken such a shine to Sly, he might be staying with me here. And I don’t know if I could keep my hands to myself then.
He does have the body of a god. It’s not my fault he’s ripped and lean and got those graceful, muscle-flexing movements like the Instagram models. Also, when he smiles, I feel like I just took a shot of moonshine. He’s temptation on two legs, and I’m a girl who’s got a broken vibrator and no extra money to spend on another one.
So it’s better that Shawn gets Burke shitfaced and hauls him off. Makes my life a little easier. In fact, to ensure that very outcome, I take to avoiding Mr. Sly and that whole front porch region.
I take the kids to the pens behind the house, and we play with the critters. It’s our own little petting zoo. Then we go inside and change into dry clothes, have popsicles in the kitchen, and everybody slowly starts to go home.
I stay inside while people wander in and out, “cleaning up the kitchen.” When Shawn saunters inside, smelling like the inside of a bottle, I dart off to the bathroom, where I stay while I can hear Sly’s voice coming from the den.
Leah’s in there; she’ll be here with me tonight, so we can catch up and use these collagen masks she ordered. I can hear her laughing at everything he says. And he sounds like he might be tipsy—voice a little lower, his low laugh a little richer.
Leah’s liked my boyfriends since we were in first grade. My cheeks blaze bright red as I scrub my hands in the sink. Not like Burke is mine. That’s crazy. It’s so crazy I laugh, giving myself a look in the mirror.
Then I go into the den, and it’s just Leah and the kids, all snug on the couch, and I forget about Burke. I’m sure he’s partying it up at Shawn’s. My brother throws big, stupid parties where everyone in the county shows up with a cooler full of beer. Super classy. That’s the Lawlers.
Burke is used to a party bachelor lifestyle, no doubt. Maybe he’ll fit right in.
The kids are so zonked, they go to bed early, leaving Leah and me in the den to shoot the shit and watch You on Netflix.
I’m not sure if I should tell her what I saw between my dad and her mom. I think I won’t until she brings out some wine and sprawls out on the couch under my big, fuzzy throw blanket and tells me she’s afraid her mom is dating Ryan, her fifteen-years-younger lawn landscaping guy.
“I thought Ryan was into Russell who runs that Conoco down near Albany, so that’s just weird,” she laments.
And I just blurt it out. “NoIsawyourmomandmydadkissinginthelaundryroominfrontofthepuppies.”
Leah gasps and shoots up off the couch.
“My mom is such a hussy! And your dad! June, eww. I’m sorry, but your dad’s moustache is not my favorite situation.”
