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“He shouldn’t have been doing that. With us all in the house.”
“He was a gay kid in Kansas, what else was he supposed to do? It’s not like he had options out here.”
I eye Kristy who is pursing her lips and aggressively basting the ribs.
“Yes, well. It was…it wasn’t something I wanted to see.”
I can understand that. No one wants to see their sibling with sex toys.
“It was really funny though,” Bridgette adds. “The broken glass, Bennet with his pants off, the dildo sitting there with the rooster pecking at it.”
A laugh bubbles out of me as I add the tomatoes and the cheese to the salad. Yes, cheese. I have caved on this. Maybe these Midwestern heathens will see the cheese and try the salad. I will also add copious amounts of Ranch dressing as well. Bathe it in it. It will be so white they won’t be able to see the green. It will be camouflaged.
“Well, I can see that happening to Bennet,” I say as I toss the salad. “I’ve had some unlucky moments…nothing involving a rooster though. That sounds…very Kansas.”
Kristy’s shoulders tighten and I eye her. Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe this is all just too much. I do find myself wanting to loosen her up. Come on Kristy, life doesn’t have to be oh-so-serious.
“Anyways, do you think this is enough dressing?” I ask, holding the bowl up so Bridgette can see.
She cocks her head. “Maybe add a little more.”
I roll my eyes but do as she asks, cringing a little.
When Kristy hands the ribs to her husband, Mark, to put on the grill, I get to work on blending the cauliflower so fine that no one will notice it when I stick in the taters. As I’m doing that, Bennet appears in the hallway, the kids hanging off of his arms, one latched on to his back.
I try really hard not to look.
“Whatcha making?” Bennet asks, and I turn the blender on again, drowning his words out.
But I can’t blend forever, and he just lingers next to me until I finally shut it off.
“Nothing. It’s a secret,” I say, and Bennet smiles. The kids are hanging on to him still and tugging on his legs.
“Come on, Uncle Bennet!” they say, wanting him to keep playing.
Bennet chuckles, and before he can be carted off he says, “I know what you’re doing, Jasper. And I appreciate it.”
I shoo him away with a corn cob, and as he goes, I let my eyes linger on his ass for just a little too long.
Do not look.
Ugh, do not fucking look.
* * *
Jimbob shows up an hour later, dressed in his overalls, work boots, and a flannel shirt. I swear he looks like he just stepped off a tractor. And I kid you not, he has a pig in his arms. A little pink pig that gets noisy as all hell when he sees all the people.
“Why is there a pig inside?” I ask, eyeing the little pink animal with a blue bib around its neck. It’s like Babe.
Jimbob shrugs and hefts it into his arms. “Needs his mama, but she died. Gotta cart him around now. He needs a feeding soon. Couldn’t just leave him at home. Poor thing could have starved.”
The pig squeals loudly, and as if summoning them, the kids all dart toward Jimbob who kneels down and shows off the baby piglet.
And he looks damn handsome doing it too. Bennet seems to have noticed as well. His eyes are on him. How can someone make overalls look hot? It makes no damn sense. But they cling to every single muscle. Looking like they might just split apart at the seams.
I stand a little taller, jutting out my hips. Well, Jimbob might be mighty fine to look at but I have…well, I have good qualities too. Like…my legs. And my eyes. And my hole.
“Wanna hold him?” Jimbob asks Bennet’s nieces and nephews, and they all shout that they do, but one lets the pig go and it scampers off, its little hooves click-clacking on the wood floors, its squeal resonating around us. Bennet laughs loudly, and they all run off to chase after it. And I swear to the gods, my heart doesn’t flutter in my chest at the sound.
