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"Man, I'll never forget that night when Seth walked out of the cabin, whipping out his dick to take a piss off the porch," Mason said, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
I chuckled, remembering that night. Seth was a sleepwalker.
"And, then…you revved up the bike, and it scared him so bad he pissed all over himself," Mason said, and we hunched over and laughed.
That was an epic weekend. We did so many crazy shit that we could spend hours reminiscing. Once we settled our laughs, silence hung in the Air.
"I wish I could've done more for him," Mason said sadly.
After the whole shit show with Tiffany and Derick, Seth was never the same. Although, I couldn't get our last conversation out of my head.
"You know, a week before he went away, he sent me an email saying he needed to talk to me, but it had to be in person," I said, and Mason's head snapped to me.
"What? Did you talk to him?"
I shook my head. "No, because it was in my junk folder to an old email I haven't used in a while."
"But you happen to check it that day?" Mason asked
"Yeah. Weird, right?" I said quietly as if I was talking to myself.
The back door opened, and Mom's voice distracted me from my lost thoughts.
"Oh, my goodness! Mason!" Mom said happily as she strolled to us. Mason got up and pulled her into a quick hug.
"Nice to see you, Mama Shar."
"I haven't seen you as much," Mom said, and Mason apologized for not stopping by as much as he wanted to.
"Well, that's alright. There's plenty of time to make that up," she smiled at him, and he returned it.
"Where's Dad?" I asked, and Mom turned to me. "He's in the kitchen. We were just about to eat. Mason, are you staying? I bought sub sandwiches from Dottie’s," she said, and Mason's eyes beamed with happiness.
"Hell, yeah!" he exclaimed.
As we headed back inside, I couldn't resist stealing one last glance at the house next door, hoping to catch a peek at Tinkerbelle. But fate wasn't on my side today.
TWENTY-SEVEN
SCAR
Every year on my birthday, Mom would cook a special breakfast that included pancakes with whipped topping and strawberries, slices of bacon, and shredded hashbrowns. And a cup of orange juice mixed with cranberry. That’s a lot of food for a small person, but I had my reasons behind it.
I would share my breakfast with my family, including Dad, when he was still playing his parental role. Pancakes with whipped topping and strawberries were for me. Bacon was for Seth, hashbrowns for Dad, and the OJ mix drink was for Mom. They never knew my little crazy method.
As I got older, Seth and Maverick would take me rock climbing and out for pizza and ice cream. When it was time for bed, Maverick would sneak into my bedroom with a chocolate chip cookie slathered with vanilla frosting and sprinkles like fairy dust, and one candle on top.
With a heavy sigh, I toss the blanket over to the side to get ready for the day, which includes heading to work.
As soon as I walk down a few steps, the smell of bacon and laughter directs me toward the kitchen. When I turn the corner, Gem screams, “Surprise!” She’s wearing her pink apron that saysBitches Be Cookingand flour’s smeared on the right side of her face.
“Happy birthday, Mom!” Shaun yells as he jumps off the counter and runs into my arms. He’s wearing a blue apron that saysMommy’s Little Chef.
“Thanks, bud.” I squeeze him tight and place a kiss on his cheek.
“Oh, shit,” Gemma says under her breath.
“Thad’s a bad word!” Shaun gasps, licking whatever is on his fingers.
