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“Then why the hell did you let me go off half-cocked and punch Parker? Why were you throwing such a fit about him?”

She grins at me while taking a sip of her coffee—err…cream. “Your old momma’s got some acting chops, don’t you think? I could have probably been on the big screen. I always wanted to try my hand at being Susan Hayward.”

“Who?”

“She’s an actress before your time. She played in this old John Wayne movie where he was Genghis Khan. Rawr!” She cries out the animal sound. I think she’s trying to sound like a tiger; she makes a scratching motion like one anyhow. “He was so hot in that movie that he could melt butter.”

I shake my head.

“I still don’t understand why you pushed me and Doe if you knew the truth all along,” I complain—more than a little put out.

“Because I was getting tired of watching you being constipated.”

I nearly choke on my coffee as I lift my brow, thinking my mother has completely lost it this time. “Excuse me?”

“You ever heard the expression shit or get off the pot, Moonie? You weren’t doing anything. I had to get you moving.” She shrugs, taking another drink. Then she lifts her eyes up to mine and they’re sparkling with mischief. My mother enjoys her games way too much. “So, I did.”

“Can you stop with that nickname?” I snap, not sure what to say to the rest of that, because she’s right. I probably wouldn’t have made a move if Meadow didn’t.

“Nope. Meddie gave it to you, and I dig it.”

“Shit.”

She grins. “Exactly. Now, try to use that sweet little brain of yours that I know the good Lord gave you and think again. What did your brothers do that you’re not doing?”

“Well, Gray and White are still mysteries to me.”

“Jesus, well, you have at least four more siblings. Keep going. Maybe it will hit you,” she mutters. “Over the head like a damn brick,” she adds, clearly not happy with me. At this point she needs to get in line.

“Well, Black locked Addie in the jail so she couldn’t get away. I mean, I’d be all for that, but not sure Luka would like me living there until I get Doe to listen to me.”

Mom doesn’t respond. She just frowns, indicating she’s annoyed with me. Message read loud and clear.

“Fine. So, Luka and Petal had sex in the squad car. Pretty sure handcuffs were involved, but I haven’t asked. I just know Luka’s penchant for using them. Bryant definitely used them on Maggie, but considering he was swinging his cock out for the world to see and chasing after Maggie, I’m pretty sure that backfired.”

“Hold on a minute,” Mom says, her voice tight. She pushes her coffee out of the way and drops her head down and hits it—although lightly—against the countertop. “God, help me. This stupidity had to come from his daddy’s side. That’s the only explanation I have,” she whines. Then, she goes back to hitting her head on the counter.

I reach over and stop her on reflex. “Mom, stop before you give yourself a headache,” I chastise.

“Too late, Moonie. You’ve already done that, bucket head.”

“I think I prefer Moonie,” I answer with a sigh.

“I’d prefer a son who thinks with his brain instead of his wanger!”

“My what?”

“You heard me. I was hoping you’d be smart enough to figure it out on your own. I warn you, son. One of these days, your momma ain’t going to be around to clean out your ears and slap sense into you.”

“Mom—”

“But I’m going to spell it out for you one more time. A woman might want a man who knows how to handle business when it comes to sex, but there’s more to making a relationship work than that. Do you think Jan got me to marry him because he knows how to pull my hair and make me pray for mercy?”

“Christ, Mom!”

“Okay, that had a little to do with it, I’ll admit it.”

“Maybe we could have this conversation later—like a hundred years from now,” I snipe.

“Listen to me. Jan is damn good in bed—”

“Mom, seriously, get to the point.”

“But it was more than that, baby. I was battered from life. Even Orville took pieces of me. But Jan? Jan handled me with care. He didn’t take. He gave. Hell, I ran that man through the gauntlet until he was naked and bleeding, but he still handled me with care.”

I look at my mom and study her. She usually hides behind her humor. Every now and then you can see parts of my mother—the real woman. The one with pain and scars that she likes to hide. The one that she tried to keep hid from her kids, so they don’t see her pain. The one that barely peeks through these days because Jan has filled her life with good. We all know it exists. We hate it—but we understand it.

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