I’m not so sure hanging upside down when you’re recovering from a concussion is recommended.
“Go have a look at his truck,” Clem suggests before adding, “And keep an open mind.”
An open mind is definitely required to see the appeal, but far be it from me to say anything derogatory about my son’s dream truck.As I make my way over, I catch sight of another mechanic working on a vehicle that is up on a lift.I return the young guy’s nod.
“That’s Kyle,” Clem rumbles behind me.“And hanging on to the kid is Manuel.”
The latter turns around as we approach.
“Remi, your mom’s here,” he announces, tapping his back.
There’s a brief delay before my son lifts his upper body from the engine compartment and straightens up.It’s clear he’s none too thrilled to see me, but I choose to ignore it.
“Nice truck.”
A grunt is my only answer.Yeah, definitely not happy, but that’s just too bad.
“Go wash up and meet us upstairs, kid,” Clem jumps in.“I’m gonna get your mom some coffee.”
Then he grabs my elbow and guides me toward the stairs.
“Since it’s after the noon hour, I assume cream and sugar are in order?”he asks as he drops a pod in the single cup coffee maker in his kitchen.
Funny, it didn’t really occur to me yesterday, but the space is nothing like I would’ve expected from a bachelor pad.For one thing, it’s bright and open, as well as clean as a pin.The modern kitchen and contemporary furniture throughout are not what I thought I’d find above an auto shop, however, it all suits Clem surprisingly well.
I smile at him for remembering.“Yes, please.”
Instead of sliding the mug of coffee across the counter, he walks it around to my side of the island and hands it to me.His fingers drag along mine.
Then he leans in, his breath brushing my ear as he whispers, “I wish I could kiss you right now.”
As if on cue, I hear Remi’s distinct footsteps coming up the stairs.For a skinny kid, he sure sounds like an elephant on the move.Clem instantly retreats back to the other side of the island and drops another pod in the coffee maker.
Remi shuffles in, doing everything not to look at me.
“Grab yourself a drink from the fridge, kid,” Clem instructs him.
It’s weird to see my son moving around this kitchen with some familiarity.
“Are you gonna stay?”Remi asks Clem.
“Up to your mom,” he returns.
“Stay.”
I’d already decided that on my way over, for several reasons.Having Clem there would force Remi to be completely honest with me, and also, going forward, he’d understand the adults in his life are on the same page.
But I also want him there for my sake.I was solo-parenting even before their father hightailed it out of their lives, and it would be nice to feel the support of someone else who genuinely seems to care.
“Clem caught me stealing.”
I wait for my son to add more to that statement, but apparently he’s done.
“Okay.I think I’m going to need a bit more information than that,” I prompt him sternly.
The little snot rolls his eyes, like he’s in any position to be annoyed right now.But I bite down an admonishment, because reacting to behavior will get me nowhere.
“I was taking parts off some cars in the back,” he adds.
