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“Only wild to you. I have discriminating taste.”
“Since when?”
“Look, it’s been at least ten years since we shared a fridge.”
And now that Mama is the way she is, the three of us are sharing a fridge again. A fridge, a bathroom, a garden, the whole damn double-wide manufactured home where Toad and I grew up. The house where Mama brought him home from the hospital with the name “Todd.” I, a horribly jealous big sister at age 3, changed it to “Toad,” and it stuck.
My brother is right. A lot has changed between moving away and returning to look after Mama. Namely, we don’t fight like cats and dogs like we did as kids.
“Did Mama get up and try to cook in her sleep tonight?”
“Nah. Haven’t heard a peep.”
“Good. Check on her before you leave for work, okay?”
He knows what I mean. Check her pulse. Check her pill bottles. Count everything.
“Always do. And hey, if you want to lend a hand on your day off, the Cooper brothers are coming by to help fix up the last of the fire damage behind the stove.”
Ugh. The Cooper brothers. Of course, they’re coming to help. As always, I’ll have to grit my teeth and say thank you.
“I’ll try,” I say. “I might have plans…with April.”
“Liar.”
“I am a liar, but Marsh Cooper gives me the creeps.”
“He’s alright.”
“He’s been sniffing around Mama ever since Daddy died, and it’s gross,” I say.
“Maybe Mama likes him. Did you ever think of that?”
“Mama is not in a good place to take on a beau. Least of all, anybody named Cooper.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
Toad groans as he lowers his too-young-to-be-groaning body back onto the sofa and unpauses his game. “You learned I’m a beer snob, and I’m learning you’re a people snob. Interesting.”
Nobody can push a girl’s buttons quite like a brother. “I am not.”
“Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”
I know what he’s getting at, and I’m not going there.
We both remember my ill-fated date with the younger of the Coopers, Hitch. Hitch told everyone I thought I was too good for him because he wore a tee shirt with a hole in it for our coffee date. The truth was, I ended the date because I became nauseous when he showed up to the date with a toothpick in his mouth. He took it out when we drank our coffees, and that disgusting thing went right back into his mouth afterward.
If that makes me a snob, then so be it.
But I’m not going to argue about it with Toad. He and his friends can think what they want about me.
I’ve been through the wringer, dating-wise, and I have my standards.
Growing up in Cooper Holler outside of a small town in West Virginia, I have had to kiss a lot of frogs, and not a single one has turned into a prince.
But I’m keeping my eye out, thank you very much.
