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“What do you know about it?” I’d not told my brothers a thing, even during Church.
“I know Leo has her convinced you'll come back to her if you get jealous enough. And she's probably right. I see the way you're looking at her every night. I’ve not seen you with anyone else.”
“Opry, who I'm fucking is none of your business. You don’t know who I’m taking to my bed. That’s why my Ol’ Lady has her own place now. I’m not giving up my privileges.”
“Prez, I'm just trying to help out. I hate to see you like this. Not wetting your willy.”
“I can fuck anybody I want to. I notice you’re not sending out for sushi. You’re eating in. Maybe I'll go fuck your girl, her cousin, Leo. Show all of you a thing or two about worrying where I stick it.”
“Slam her ham. I don’t care.” He was bluffing.
Opry was smitten with that stripper.
“I’d give up my pussy for ya. Nobody in the club wants a miserable President, and you’ve been a miserable mess for the last two weeks, on everybody's ass, for no goddamn reason. Well, for one reason, I know of. That girl who's pregnant with your baby ain’t in your bed no more. You’re only punishing yourself.”
He was right. I’d been in a wretched mood. But I wasn’t punishing myself. I'd been dealing with other shit. All alone. When I'd not been sitting in my throne at the club, dealing with Sky acting out, I'd been dealing with my dad's funeral. I ended up going to it, the second half of it anyway, only to deal with the aftermath.
My usual biker attire was all black so that’s what I wore. Plus, it looked like it was fixin’ to rain. I’d rather be in leather. At the cemetery I stood in the back of a small crowd and listened to the preacher lie about what a great man Edward Strick was, saying he’d be in heaven on account of him giving his life to the Lord recently.
Made me glad I was still on my highway to Hell. After a literal sermon, they lowered the bastard into the ground. I felt that same peace I had seeing his dead body at the hospital. My tears never returned so I decided they’d been more about the trouble with my Ol’ Lady then about him.
A revelation hit me. The peace I felt had nothing to do with my wishes for death on him, it was my own peace knowing an evil man was gone for good. The clouds shifted and the sun shined bright, like maybe God confirmed as much.
As the guests whispered and avoided me, I watched Little Johnny, in a suit that matched my brother’s, drop a rose in the hole for his granddad. Kid almost fell in. I lurched forward automatically but was too far away.
Felicia, dripping with diamonds, in a black dress with a designer label, a tiny black veil and killer heels, dashed over to grab him just in time. Kid was a handful. Not realizing he almost joined my dad in heaven, the boy escaped his mom and cheerfully skipped off through the cemetery.
“Don’t step on the graves,” Felicia hollered after him.
The man she brought went after him on her command. I couldn’t tell if he was her date or her bodyguard.
With my focus on the boy who may be my son, I didn’t see Bubba walk my way until it was too late. His arms wide, he caught me in a hug before I could escape it. My twin brother had been crying. Although we were different in so many ways, we were exactly the same height. He sniffled in my ear. I patted his broad back.
“Dad would say you need a dress to go with those tears,” I said.
“He’d say you’d need a dress to go with your jewelry.”
Thankfully, he stepped back. My brother in a suit was nothing new, but I barely recognized him without his cowboy hat nearby.
“I’m glad you came. We are all we have now,” he said with a sorrowful shake of his head.
I didn’t need the reminder that our mom died while I was in prison. The fact dad was being buried beside her was bad enough.
Bubba blew out a breath. “Having dinner at my house. Family and friends are invited. And before you say no, that’s where I plan to tell Felicia the news. After it. So, if you don’t want to deal with this crowd, you can hang back for an hour or so.”
I agreed to that much and took the scenic route to get there. I took the longest way I knew to Brentwood. I stopped a dozen times, thinking about turning back.
By the time I pulled up to Bubba’s McMansion, the place had cleared for the most part. Felicia stood outside the monument to my brother’s ego waiting for me. She’d changed into jeans and a flannel that was tied up to show off her toned waist. Sporting cowboy boots, she resembled the girl next door Felicia from her Country Music videos.
I rounded the fountain and parked my Harley, cutting the engine. She didn’t even wait for me to get off my hog. She was by my side. Judging by the look on her face, my brother had already told her. At least I didn’t have to go inside.
“Can you believe that asshole waited six years to tell us? And you telling everyone you’re fruitless all this time. You could’ve populated all of Nashville by now, you whore. Congratulations are in order, I hear.”
That was Felicia, a mix of insults and pleasantries, like most women from Nashville.
“Still not sure that he’s mine,” I said to her, speaking about Johnny but also about Sky’s baby.
I lit a cigarette.
