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“You do. Why that’s very close to what Greg Dawson’s son Jedd said about you after your visit a month ago.”
“Oh my, I’m going to blush. How is Jedd these days anyway?”
“Recovering from a bad case of crabs,” Ida Sue answers. I look anywhere but at Ida Sue who just keeps staring at Lyla like she’s begging her to push the conversation. Thankfully, Lyla doesn’t. She makes up some excuse that I didn’t quite catch and all but runs away.
“Ida Sue,” I laugh. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“That was nicer than what I wanted to say,” she mutters. “That girl is a wart on the butt crack of society—and in her case I mean that figuratively and literally.”
Blue starts laughing again, but I ignore him. I don’t know how to look at him right now. I’m not sure what I’m feeling when it comes to him, but I think part of what I’m feeling can be summed up in one word.
Jealousy.
It’s official. Blue Moon Lucas has made me lose my mind.
“Ida Sue, you don’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do, honey. I’m not one to judge a woman, given the way I was raised. Still, that girl gives free love a bad name,” she mutters. “There’s not a man in Mason she hasn’t tried. Well, except for my Jan—although she even flirted with him.”
“She did?”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Poor Jan didn’t know what to do. He blushed so red I thought he might set the whole place on fire.”
I giggle because I can kind of see that reaction coming from Jansen. “Surely not every man in Mason has been with her.”
Oh my God! What am I doing?
I grimace because inside I know. I want her to confirm if Blue and Lyla have slept together. I already know the truth, just from the small snippets of conversation between the two of them. Still, somehow, I want his mother to tell me I’m wrong. To deny it all and make me feel better. I know how stupid that is. I do. I know I was married and not even living in Mason. None of what I’m feeling makes a bit of damn sense.
“Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s every man who looks halfway decent—even my own boys.”
“Mom—” Blue growls.
“What? I’m just telling the truth, Blue. But don’t you worry, Meddie, dear. My boys all wear helmets when they ride the town bicycle. I make sure of it.”
“She’s not wrong, Doe,” Blue says squeezing my hand again. “When Lyla set her mind to bagging Gray and White, Mom went to Costco and bought a huge tub of industrial strength condoms.”
“Darn-tootin’ I did. Them suckers cost me an arm and a leg, too.”
“Industrial strength?” I ask confused.
“That’s what had they written in red letters over the condom covers. There wasn’t a brand, or at least not one I ever saw.” Blue gives me a smirk as he answers, and I ignore how good he looks.
“Well, they worked, that’s all that matters,” his mom defends.
“They did,” he admits. “Well, all except for poor Green.”
His mother winces. “Yeah, that was a bit unfortunate.”
“Wait, what happened to Green?”
“He was allergic, dear.”
“Allergic?”
“Oh yeah,” Blue agrees, his voice a deep baritone and full of humor. It’s hard to shut down the way I react to his voice like that, but I force myself.
“Poor thing. His poor baloney-pony swelled up so big he couldn’t wear pants—even sweatpants. They still rubbed against it. He had to wear dresses for a week. He wouldn’t come out of his room.”
“Green wore dresses?”
“He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t sit around naked. Petal and the girls were in the house.”
“The poor guy.”
“It’s what he deserved,” Ida Sue responds, showing no mercy. “Besides it mostly just looked ugly—which, let’s face it, they’re not the prettiest part on a man, just the most fun.”
“Mom—we’ve talked about you having these conversations with me around,” Blue barks.
Ida Sue rolls her eyes at him. “Anyway, Green still fared better than poor Jedd.”
“I don’t see how? I mean I’ve never had them, but aren’t crabs pretty easily taken care of?”
“Yeah, but poor Jedd isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Blue chimes in. Just to be contrary, I try to pull my hand away again.
He still doesn’t let me. Bastard.
“Well, he didn’t want anyone to know he got the crotch critters, so he thought he would take care of them himself.”
“What did he do?”
“His momma told me he shaved himself. He didn’t use anything to help. He was afraid he’d wash them off into other areas. So, he just used a razor and nothing else. She said the razor burn almost killed him for weeks.”
“Oh crap,” I respond giggling.
“Jedd is a couple bricks short of a load,” Blue grumbles, shaking his head.
“The razor burn wasn’t nearly as bad as when his hair started growing back,” Ida Sue says, and we all start laughing at just the thought.
