“Sensitive? Like a sensitive boa constrictor?” Her eyes narrow at me. “Or a honey badger?” I snort. “Sensitive, my ass.”
“Son, shut up.” Mom tries to swat me, but I lean back, and she misses.
“I know you are sensitive, sweetheart, but sit down. You haven’t eaten in hours. I wouldn’t want you to get lightheaded.”
“Lightheaded from not eating for a few hours?” I scoff. “Yeah, okay.”
“So, now you’re calling me fat?” Cori puts her hands on her hips.
“What? I said no such thing. You see how she twists everything?”
“Boy, shut the hell up,” Mom snaps. “You’re starting to piss me off.”
“Maybe Dax can go look for the dog. He’s upset me too much tonight. And since he hates my cooking—”
“You have something to say to me, say it, sweetheart.” I snap. “Say it directly to me, don’t go through my mom.” I turn to my mother. “I can’t believe you’re buying her act.”
“Get away from my table, honey.” Her fake sweetness is enough to give me a toothache.
“I bought this fucking table, darling.”
“Daxton,” Mom warns. “I told you to watch your God damn mouth, now.”
“I’m sure Finch is out there waiting for you to find her, schnookums,” she snaps.
Instead of responding, I pull a chair, letting it scrape against the tiles, before I dramatically drop myself on it.
“I ain’t going nowhere until I’m damn good and ready to go.” I grab her drink and down half of it before adding, “Pookie.”
“Momma Had, I don’t understand how a sweet woman like you could end up with such a butthead as a son.” Cori points at and scoffs.
“Well, don’t blame me for that, honey. He gets that from his daddy’s side. They’re a whole family of buttheads.”
“Makes sense,” Cori says while glaring at me. “I know you couldn’t be responsible for that.”
“Child, I can tell you some stories about his paternal grandmother. She always had a flask in her purse and a cigarette between her lips. And she dropped him when he was a baby. I stopped taking him to visit after that.” Mom shakes her head.
“Did she drop him on his big ass watermelon head?”
Mom laughs, but I don’t dignify my wife with a response. For someone who is too upset to eat, she shoves jambalaya down her throat with ease. She doesn’t look at me, but I stare at her the entire time.
“How’s your cousin, sweetheart?” I ask, and the table goes quiet.
“That lovely girl I met at the wedding?” I snort at my mother’s question, but I keep my eyes on Cori. She shoves a forkful into her mouth, but I notice her body tensing for a brief moment.
“Lovely, my ass,” I say.
“Daxton, I suggest you shut your mouth now.” Mom slams her hand on the table, and Cori jumps. “How is Selene, Cori? You should have invited her to dinner.”
Cori flares her nostrils while glaring at me, and I wait for her to tell my mother how I put Selene out.
“She’s good. She has a date tonight, but I’m bringing her some of the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. She loves jambalaya.”
We eat in silence, and I’ll never admit this out loud, but the food is delicious. I make sure to fill my plate three times.
“Are you done, Mom? Do you want any more food?” I ask.
“I’m full, and Cori already put some aside for me to take home.” She rests her hand on top of Cori’s. “One of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.”
