When he pressed the call option, he brought the phone to his ear, and looked over his shoulder, making sure the door was shut tight. The irrationality of protecting Dev also applied to his parents. They were lovely people who wouldn’t stand a chance against the evil forces dominating Cash’s world at present. They were also the way to bring Cash to his knees. He might not ever survive the guilt if he brought all this hate to their doorstep.
“Hello?” his mother answered on the second ring. Cash smiled, a welcoming peace settled over his heart. She was the best medicine. He needed to hear her voice.
“Hi, Mom,” Cash said, quietly. He closed his eyes as goodness filled his soul.
“Cashin… I hoped it was you. We missed your call on Thanksgiving. It broke my heart. How are you, son?” she said. She had a way of making him believe it truly broke her heart not to hear from him. The first genuine grin he’d had in days stretched his cheeks.
“I’m good, Mom. Everything’s good. Just busy. How are you and Dad?” he asked, thinking about the travel trailer he’d grown up in. The same one they still lived in today. In a world of darkness and destruction, his mother and father had chosen to stay good at heart. Now he understood the choice and respected them more for it.
“We’re fine, only missing our boy…” There was rustling on the other end of the line, then his father’s deep voice came through.
“Hello,” his father said. “Hello. Are you there, son? I don’t think he’s there, Mama.”
“Hi, Dad,” Cash said, smiling. “I’m here.” He envisioned them standing at the tiny built-in center island that was the hub of the small home. His parents were together all the time, usually at that table, working on something. Another choice they made.
“He’s here, Mama,” he said, as if his mom may have been worried. “I’m heading out to man the store. We’re gettin’ holiday business. Don’t wait so long to call next time. I love you.” Any lingering anxiety faded. Cash sat up a little straighter, keeping the chuckle inside.
His parents’ traveling ministry sold fresh baked treats made by his mother and handmade tools and trinkets crafted by his father. Between the funds of those sales and the money Cash contributed every month, his parents made enough to teach their version of spirituality to their four or five regular parishioners, a.k.a., their stoner friends.
Once Cash had left the nest to attend his first year in college, he’d been shocked to find pot was illegal. His parents and their ministry were super fans.
Cash’s shoulders relaxed at the special memory. His parents had taught him right was always right. Love, peace, and charity were the best parts of the world.
“We’ve had a booming day,” his mom added. “We’ve already made five hundred dollars. That’ll pay park costs for a good while.” She sounded proud for them. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Better now that I hear your voice. Go make your sales. I wanted to say hi,” he explained.
“Are you truly good, Cashin?” his mom asked, reading him like a book.
“I am,” he answered after a moment’s pause, leaving out the wordnow. “Are you and Dad really doing good?”
“Oh, blessed, baby. Just like always,” she said. “Your father was able to get a good deal on some new-to-us tires for the truck.”
He stopped her before the appreciation of what he sent each month rolled from her lips. “I love you guys. I believe in you, but listen, I had a dream about the bread dough you knead. I feel like that means you’re gonna have to teach me.”
The door opened to the apartment turned gym. Cash glanced over his shoulder to see Dev quietly coming inside. He shut the door as if Cash’s privacy included him too. As the lead on this case, anyone else on their small team would have backed out when they saw him on a call. Hell, they wouldn’t have opened the door without knocking. When he didn’t answer, they’d walk away until he emerged.
Not Dev. Never Dev.
Cash lifted a finger to his lips before turning away, staring down at his Ultraboosts.
“I look forward to the challenge,” his mother answered, chuckling.
He heard the happy humor in her tone. She wasn’t wrong to laugh at him or the idea of teaching him how to bake. He’d never been any good at baking. It wasn’t in his wheelhouse. It was a true art form.
“Okay, maybe we need to stick with you making it and I’ll eat it,” he teased.
“Now that’s a good deal too.”
“I gotta go. Chaos that I call work just came through the door.”
Dev gave a low-level chuckle and came up behind him, laying a palm on his shoulder. He squeezed reassuringly. Cash’s entire existence tuned in to Dev’s hand. The pad of his thumb glided up and down, the muscle responding to the massage. Hell, his whole body wished to be touched in just that same way.
“I need to go too,” his mother said. “Come home soon, son. We miss you.”
“I miss you too. Tell Dad bye.” Usually their goodbyes lingered, but not today.
It didn’t matter the whys, he refused to risk his parents. Not now. Maybe someday they might meet Dev.
