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“What the fuck’s your problem?” The first guy whines, scrambling up from the ground.
“Your useless, tiny dick.”
I see over his shoulder. Penny’s car is racing into the parking lot.
“You fucking bitch.” The second guy crawls up. “You broke my nose.”
“No, dumbass. You took a swing at the wrong woman.”
I keep my fists up, swaying in fighting stance because I want more.
The second guy wipes the blood from his nose with the bottom of his gingham shirt. “What are you? A fucking cop?”
Penny’s car parks behind them. It’s unmarked too.
“No.” I drop my fists. “I’m payback for all the women you’ve harassed. Careful. The next one you bother might not be so nice.”
Drops of lemon fall into her tea with a firm squeeze. Mama’s eyeing me, contemplating just how much of an ass-chewing I’m gonna get.
“Well,” she says, “my daughter finally made it to Paid Administrative Leave. Ain’t I proud?”
Anyone else, and I’d roll my eyes, but I’ll never disrespect my mama.
“It’s standard procedure, Mama. I was provoked.”
“Uh-huh.” She buys that like an extra car warranty. “You know the difference between your generation and mine?”
I’m not mad.
Mama looks too cute in her red beach caftan and matching hat. I’ve laid her out like the Queen of the Nile by the pool under an umbrella to get her some fresh air. And to let her chastise me for the trouble I got in for my bar brawl.
“Your generation didn’t do anal?”
I can’t help it. I gotta see her laugh.
And it works. Ridiculously and so loud, the whole pool can hear us cackling.
After we wipe the tears from our happy eyes, she says, “No. I would’ve taken a picture of him and his little dick. Flyers with his name on them would be tucked under every windshield at The Pelican for months.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t do anal?”
“I did what every proper lady does.”
“Which is…?”
“What in the Sam Hill I wanted to”—she toasts her tea to my beer—“and I did it with a smile.”
This is the best day I’ve had in over a week. Because this past one has been even worse.
Redix stopped texting me. It’s what I wanted. And that hurts even more. Like I ripped out ribs, and it’s hard to breathe.
Mama and I lounge for an hour. I try focusing on other things, but it’s impossible because Redix’s sister and her son are across the pool. They wave to us. We wave back, and I just want to scream at the ache of missing him.
“You know I see it?” Mama adjusts her sunglasses. “How much you suffer over him. How you have for ten years. I leave you two alone because I respect y’all, but I know when my daughter is hurting.”
“I’ll be alright.”
Mama can never know how far I will go to make it stop hurting us forever.
