"Ma!" I called as I pulled open the screen door.
"In here," she hollered back.
I followed the sound of her voice into the kitchen. And I was not prepared for what I walked into. "The fuck are you doin'?"
On the floor lay my mama, soaked to the bone with a headlamp strapped around her drenched mop of hair, wrench in hand as she peered up at the pipes under the sink.
"Had a leak."
For fuck's sake.
"Why didn't you call me? Or Luke? C'mon, get out from there."
She maneuvered her way out from under the sink, relentin' a bit to grab the hand I offered to help her up.
"I can fix a simple leak, Brody Lancaster." Hands on her hips, she scowled up at me.
I couldn't help but LOL. "Woman, look at you. You look like a drowned rat."
"Oh, shut your pie hole and get down there." She shoved the wrench into my chest.
"Yes, ma'am." With a few twists of my wrist, the leak had stopped.
"I did the hard part," Ma said when I was back on my feet.
"You did good, Ma." I gave her a sad smile and rubbed a hand up and down her arm. Well, I tried to, but I got stuck on the wet fabric clingin' to her. "Why don't you go dry off and I'll cook us up some dinner, yeah?"
"Sounds good, sweetie." She visibly deflated, her expression a mirror of mine. "Thanks."
Twenty minutes later, I was givin' the burgers a final turn on the grill.
I looked over my shoulder at the sound of Ma walkin' out onto the back deck. She had a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and… a bottle of vodka in the other. My eyebrows climbed up my forehead.
She spotted my look and grinned. "Figured it was a good day for the hard stuff."
"Hey, you don't gotta tell me twice." I closed the grill lid and made my way toward the patio table shaded by a big-ass umbrella. She poured us each a drink, and we clinked our glasses before takin' a sip. She'd made 'em strong, and it had me coughin' a little. "Jesus, lady. You tryin' to kill me?"
She grinned wide, lookin' out over the field behind the house. "Just how your daddy liked 'em." Her smile faded a bit and she sighed. "I miss him, Bro."
"I know." I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tuckin' her into my side and squeezin' tight. "Me too."
"Remember that time you asked your dad if pink lemonade was made from pink lemons?" She smiled up at me, but I saw the tears in her eyes.
Like she'd been doin' for weeks now, she didn't let herself wallow in the grief. She had her moments, but fuck, she was the strongest woman I knew—though she might be dukin' it out with Calvin for that title, now that I knew a small part of her story.
"Damn, I was, what, eight? Gimme a break!"
She laughed and dislodged herself from my grip. "You were the cutest dang kid."
"Um, I'm still cute, thank you very much."
Mom looked at me like I had three heads before shakin' hers. "I'll grab some plates."
She set the table while I took the burgers off the grill. Before I scooped some sides onto my plate, I paused.
"This ain't the frozen leftover potato salad, is it?"
Mom's eyes twinkled. "I'll never tell."
