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“Hey, honey!” she says with a big wide smile.
“Hey, Mrs. Betty.” I give her a hug. “Can I order a piece of chocolate cake to go? Actually, make it two.”
“Sure thing.” She walks around the counter and cuts two huge slices and places them in boxes, then bags it. I hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change.
“You always spoil me,” she tells me. “Is that for your lady?” Her eyebrows raise as she waits for my answer.
“Yes, ma’am. The other piece is for Mama.”
“I’m sure there’s a story behind that one. You’ll have to come see me sometime this week and fill me in,” Betty says just as someone walks up to pay their check. I promise her I will and make my way out the door.
“I’m not driving that,” Dylan says, pointing to the Prius. “My dick may actually fall off if I even sit in that thing.”
I hand him the keys to my truck. “Hopefully your dick will be okay with that.”
Unlocking the car, I walk over to it and shake my head, understanding why Dylan was so reluctant. As soon as I open the door and attempt to sit, I search around the seat to slide it back so my legs have more room. Once I’ve adjusted the seat and mirrors, I press the button to crank it but can’t hear the engine. I don’t have to search around for the lights because they turn on as soon as the engine roars to life. Seriously, what is this futuristic shit? I put it in reverse and step on the gas, and it moves, but I’m not convinced the damned thing is even on.
The whole way back to the ranch, I can smell her shampoo, and it causes my mind to wander back to the beach. That really was a trip of a lifetime that changed both our lives forever.
I turn onto the country road that leads to the ranch, and Dylan follows close behind me. Instead of going straight to the B&B, I turn on the long driveway that leads to my parents' house where Dylan’s truck is parked. When I get out with a to-go box and plastic fork in my hand, he looks at me confused.
“I’m gonna be a while. I have to talk to my Mama before going to see River. I have an apology to make for being disrespectful.”
Dylan hands me my keys and walks toward his truck. “You better apologize then. Mama can make your life heaven or hell, and you ought to know by now you get more bees with honey than vinegar.”
“Story of my life. See you tomorrow!” I tell him as I walk up the sidewalk that leads to the front door. Before stepping in, I inhale a deep breath, say a little prayer, and hope I can smooth this over. Pushing my ego to the side, I turn the doorknob and enter.
Mama is sitting on the couch with a blanket on her lap watching one of those cheesy movies on the Hallmark Channel that always fades to black.
She glances at me then focuses on the TV.
“Hey, Mama,” I say sweetly, sitting next to her on the couch.
“Hey, baby.” She speaks, but she doesn’t look back at me. The tension in the room is so thick, I could cut it with a knife.
“I’m sorry for being short earlier. You raised me better than that.” I hand her the piece of cake and fork.
She opens the box and immediately smiles. “Trying to sweeten me up with Betty’s cake? Your father taught you right.”
Before she even asks, I walk to the kitchen, pour a big glass of cold milk, and return to the living room. “I just want us to be okay. That’s all. I don’t like going to bed angry. Something you taught me a long time ago.”
“Sit,” she demands, taking the milk willingly. “Listen to me, son. I love you no matter what. Okay? I’ll always love you and your brothers and sister. Knowing that you’re all going to start having kids of your own makes me realize that you’re no longer my babies, that you’re growing up, and moving on.”
I open my mouth to speak, and she lifts her mighty finger to stop me.
“I always wanted you all to have a better life than I had. Than your father had. I wanted you to experience everything you possibly could, but most of all, I want you to be happy.”
“Mama, I’m so happy. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life right now. And that’s why it’s so important to have your acceptance. I want Dad’s approval, too. It hurts me to know that you’re disappointed in me or in the situation or that you don’t like the woman who’s carrying your grandbaby.”
She takes a bite of cake and closes her eyes as she chews. Betty’s cake is the best in six counties; even Mama knows it.
