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“God, no! “Old Town Road” it is, you little diva!”
My cell rings just as I hit play.
“HA!” I say as Parker’s name flashes on my screen, and I show it to Dante. “Saved by Auntie Parker.”
Dante kicks the back of my seat. “Fine. I guess you can answer it.”
“Well, thank you very much for your permission, son.” I hit answer and cradle the phone into the mount on my air vent. “You just saved my life by calling.”
“Oh?” She says sweetly. “Why is that?”
“Your nephew wants to hear that song again, and this time, I may have driven us off the road. What is it about that song?”
“What song?”
“Old Town Road,” Dante pipes up behind me, making sure Parker knows he’s present. There’s only one person on earth he loves more than her, and I’m the lucky one.
“Oh, I love that song. Hey, Duckie!”
“Hi, Auntie Parker!”
“What’s wrong with “Old Town Road” anyway?”
“Never mind. You suck. Worst best friend ever,” I grumble.
“Mommy, that’s not nice!” Dante scolds. “It’s my favorite song.”
“Mine too,” Parker giggles when I let out a miserable groan.
“It is not. You are so fired. Seriously, why can’t you agree with me, just once?”
“Sorry.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“No, you’re not. And in order to make it up to me, you have to stay on the phone for fifteen minutes, so I don’t have to listen to it.”
“I’ve got time to kill.”
“Heeey,” Dante protests behind me.
“Quiet, son, adults speaking.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls out his tablet from the lip of my seat and puts on his headphones. When I hear one of his downloaded videos start, I know I’m in the clear.
“How’s London?”
“London is fine.”
“And the other part of London?”
“Not fine. Horrible. It was the worst blind date in the history of ever. He didn’t know I was supersized, and I didn’t know he had skin scalp. We both exaggerated the truth, and not only that, we were both too picky to live with it. Isn’t that sad? I’m going to be the old lady in the home who talks to her shoes.”
I can’t help my laugh. “You are not.”
“I am. I’m going to be that woman who wears the same sweatsuit and has in-depth conversations with her bunion cradling loafers. Just promise me something?”
“You’re ridiculous, but what?”
“Promise you’ll wax me.”
