P-Nut

Dinner at Smokey’s house was always entertaining, but sometimes it was more so for others, and not so much for me. I took a drink of my beer, all the while glaring at Eddie over the top of the bottle.

She was Smokey’s seventeen-year-old daughter. Based on her attitude and intellect, a blind man would guess her age at no less than thirty. I loved her as if she were my own daughter, but she was often a thorn in my side.

“It’s a simple question.” She poked a piece of steak with her fork, paused, and raised both eyebrows. “One you should be able to answer easily, regardless of what your response might be. That is, unless you’re embarrassed.”

I took another drink and shot her a glare.

“We’re all family here, P-Nut,” she said. “I was just wondering.”

I glanced at Smokey, shook my head, and then looked at Eddie. “At what point in time did you become so enthralled in my relationship status?”

She lowered her fork to her plate and crossed her arms. “We’re answering questions with questions, are we?”

It was a trademark move of mine. Telling a lie was out of the question, but stretching the truth to its limits – or diverting the line of questioning with a question – was something I did with regularity.

I nodded toward her. “You just did.”

“Stop acting like you’re in high school,” she said.

“Stop acting like your’re thirty-five fucking years old.”

She cocked an eyebrow and shot me the stink eye. “P-Nut!”

Shit.

I’d done the unthinkable. Cussing in her house wasn’t allowed. Neither was smoking. Or farting. Or acting like a biker in any respect. Discussions of sex, fighting, casual blowjobs, or the size of a waitress’ tits were things Smokey and I were forced to enjoy in her absence.

She damned sure didn’t need to yell at me, but she did every time she got an opportunity. I knew I’d fucked up as soon as the f-bomb fell out of my mouth. Transforming into a respectable human being each time I crossed the threshold of Smokey’s door didn’t come easy, but it was something I’d been working on since Eddie was a pre-teen.

“Do we cuss in this house?” she asked.

I tilted my bottle of beer toward her. “My apologies. It slipped out.”

“Answer my question.”

“About cussing in the house, or the other one?”

A sigh shot from her lungs. “The other one.”

“Yes.”

She glared at me. “Yes?”

“You said are we answering questions with questions. My response is yes.”

“My question was when are you going to settle down and get a girlfriend? Look around you. Crip? He’s got one. Pee Bee? He does, too. Cholo? Check. Dad? Check. Everyone’s growing up but you.”

I didn’t respond, at least not immediately. Being pinned down to one woman wasn’t something I felt could ever work. At least not for me. I wouldn’t change for anyone, and finding someone who would accept me as I was would be impossible. Finding a woman who would satisfy me beyond the bedroom would be equally impossible.

“Being single suits me just fine.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

I glanced at Smokey, his Ol’ Lady, Sandy, and then at Eddie. “Can I eat my steak?”

“I just want you to be happy,” she said.

“I am happy.”

“You’re the only single one at this table.”

“Single and happy.”

“Happy for now.”

“What the fu--” I caught myself midway through the word. “What does that mean?”

“You’re happy until one day you look around and you’re the only fifty-year-old single guy in the club. Then, there won’t be anyone to choose from except for a bunch of divorced fifty-year-old women who have developed a hatred for all the things you are, and a yearning for all the things you’re not.”

“I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing, thank you.”

She shrugged. “Just going to get tougher the older you get.”

“Jesus.” I looked at Smokey. There was no way he put her up to it. I looked at Sandy. “Did you put her up to this? You and your estrogen overload?”

“Wasn’t me,” she said. “This is between you and her.”

Eddie had an opinion about everything, and wasn’t afraid to voice it. Depending on the topic of conversation, being on the receiving end of her tongue could be torture.

I pushed my plate to the side and looked at Eddie. “There’s a new girl at Davina’s. I’m taking her out. There. Happy now?”

She spit out a laugh. “You’re taking her out?” She looked at Smokey, let out a sigh, and then shot me her signature stink eye glare. “I know what that means.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“P-Nut!”

“Shit’s not a cussword.”

“If it can’t be said on the six o’clock news, it can’t be said here.”

I had no idea if they could say shit on the news, I didn’t watch the news. Based on Eddie’s glare, my guess was that I was wrong.

Again.

“I wasn’t aware. I’ll add it to the list.”

She rolled her eyes comically.

“My meat’s getting cold,” I said. “Let me finish my meal, and if I’m in the mood, we can talk about the waitress when I’m done.”

“I don’t want to talk about your next hookup, P-Nut. I was looking at the bigger picture.”

“I don’t want to hear about your hookups, either,” I said. “Let’s change the subject.”

Her eyes shot wide. “Richard and I aren’t hooking up. We’re hanging out.”

“Hooking up. Hanging out.” I poked a piece of steak in my mouth and shook my head. “I can’t keep up with what all these phrases mean. If we could use cusswords, I wouldn’t be so confused. Something to consider. The introduction of cusswords. You know, now that you’re a little older.”

“Hooking up is just. You know. You meet some skank at the bar and have sex. That’s a hook up.”

Smokey cocked an eyebrow. “Ed…”

Eddie’s head swiveled toward him. “Dad. Seriously? I’m just trying to explain something to your thick-skulled friend.”

She looked at me. “Hanging out is just getting to know someone. It’s the first stage of a relationship.”

“So, if I’m hanging out with someone, I’m not getting any. Right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah. I’m not interested in that. I’m not seventeen. I’m into hookups.”

“That’s my point,” she said. “Hookups get you nowhere in life. It’s just sex.”

“Maybe sex is all I’m after.”

“I think this conversation has gone far enough,” Smokey said dryly.

I raised my bottle of beer. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Fine,” Eddie said. “I came close to making my point. Better than I do most times.”

“You made your point,” I said.

“But--”

“Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean you didn’t make your point, Ed. Let’s just agree that we disagree on this.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the waitress. Maybe it’ll be more than a hookup.”

“What would she have to do to capture your interest?”

Capture my interest?

Capture was the perfect choice of words. I finished my beer and gave her question some consideration, but not very much. The mere thought of being with a woman on a permanent basis made me feel constrained.

I wanted to answer her, I really did. I wanted to know myself. Hell, everyone around me was getting married, having babies, or rigging up their Ol’ Lady with a Property Of patch. I wondered if I was just wired differently, or if my lack of trust was so engrained in my being that I’d never let a woman be a part of my life.

I looked at Smokey. He sat at Sandy’s side, holding a piece of broccoli as she nibbled the head off the stalk.

Bile rose in my throat.

I looked at Eddie. “Nothing. There’s nothing she – or any woman – will be able to do to capture my interest.”

And, I truly believed each and every word.