Jason

Roosters crow in the distance as I walk around the back of my mom’s house inspecting it. She’s almost paid it off, and it’s going to be the place she lives for the rest of her life. I need to make sure it’s in good shape for the long haul. She’ll be fifty this year, and hopefully has another forty or fifty ahead of her.

My mom’s been the one constant in my life. When I graduated from college, though, I didn’t look back. Well, didn’t look back until thirty-six hours ago. I drove away from the Kingwood Manor at peace with my role in that situation. And I don’t really know what made me come back, not even after a good night’s sleep, which was one of the better nights I’ve had for a while.

I don’t understand why, but I’ll take it.

Kicking a loose board on the side of the house with the toe of my boot, I mark it to replace and move to the front. I’m wondering how long I can keep my mind occupied on tasks to do and not on the woman that’s lingering at the back of my mind.

Not long apparently. There’s a honeysuckle bush growing wild at the corner of the porch. Honeysuckle.

The flowers are wrapped in a band around her head. Delilah has spent the better part of an hour creating her floral halo and it was worth it. She’s beautiful. Hovering above my head, she’s upside down and smiling at me. “What are you doing, Jason?”

“Watching you.” While lying down, I reach up. “C’mere.”

She moves around and kneels next to me. Plucking a flower from the wreath in her hair, she says, “Want some nectar?”

“Thought you’d never offer.”

The flower is between her fingers when she starts to gently pull it away from the stem. I lift up and rest on my elbow and watch the satisfied smile appear. But when she offers the nectar to me, I say, “You taste it first and then I’ll taste you.”

My favorite pink—Delilah blush—covers her cheeks. She’s so enticing. I watch as the nectar touches her tongue and then she teases, her eyes on me, her lips tantalizing. I sit up and run my hand through the back of her hair and kiss her, tasting her honey mixed with the flower’s sweetness.

. . . The screech of the screen door cuts through the mire of my thoughts. “Are you hungry?” my mom calls.

“Sure am.”

“C’mon. I’ve made you some eggs and bacon.”

I add the front steps to my list. They need replacing before I leave again. Inside, I wash my hands and sit at the table in the kitchen. I’m served a glass of apple juice, which makes me smile. I could really use a cup of coffee but don’t ask for it. My mom wants to serve her son, and I’m happy to play that part for a few days.

She sits down after setting a plate in front of me. I take a big bite and then look up. “Are you not eating?”

“I ate while I was cooking.” She smiles.

I’m about to take another bite, but it’s time. I set my fork down and swallow some juice. “Let’s do this so we can get past it.”

She’s always direct. I like it. I’ve been called direct. Guess I got it from her. “Are you going to see her?”

“You want me to drive over to the farm and just walk up those steps like I have business there? Ma, she’s married.”

“She’s not married.”

“What?” My neck jerks back.

“She’s not married, Jason.”

“But you told me once—”

“Well,” she starts while fiddling with the loose threads of the placemat, “she was then. Now she’s not.”

I get up for coffee. Apple juice isn’t strong enough for this conversation. After filling a mug, I lean on the counter, my palms pressing into the tile as I stare down at the stained grout. Mentally, I add this to the list of things to fix, right after I add Delilah Noelle. I don’t think that can be fixed by a visit to the hardware store, but it’s tempting to find out.

Looking back at my mom, I ask, “They’re separated?”

“No, divorced. Finalized two months back. She’s out on that farm by herself. He moved across town to a rental on the east side behind The BBQ Shack.”

“Why are you telling me this? I’m not going to be here long enough to spend my time thinking about the past.”

“I think you already are. I also think she might be the reason for this spontaneous visit.”

“She’s not.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean my ass against the counter, facing her. “I thought she was married.”

My mom shrugs. “Call it kismet. I think something inside you was unsettled, and we both know the best way to get settled is to visit the one that caused the uproar in the first place.”

“I’m not visiting her. We left on bad terms.” No, that’s not how it went down. She left me. She left me with no explanation.

“You left on bad terms. She’s been here all along, and if I know her at all, which I feel I know her pretty well after all these years, I think she’s been waiting for you to return.”

“Why fill my head with this nonsense? We both know I won’t be home long and adding that crazy back into my life won’t turn out good for anybody.”

She stands and walks around the table. With her mug in hand, she heads for the back door. Before she leaves, I ask, “What about kids?”

Looking back at me, she smiles. “What about them?”

“Rumors has it she had one with him.”

“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “No kids either.” Pushing the screen door open, she leaves, the door slamming shut behind her.

Delilah Rae Noelle isn’t married and has no kids. Despite the adrenaline rushing through my veins in an attempt to move my feet toward that door and drive out to the farm, my grip on the counter tightens. “No. I can’t get tangled up when I’m here to untangle some of the mess I’ve made of my life.”

Why am I talking to myself? Fuck. This town is already messing with my head. I grab a few more bites of breakfast, shove my list into my back pocket, and head out to the bike.

My mom is checking out the bike. “Looks expensive.”

“I’ve done okay the last couple of years. You’ve been getting the money I sent, right?”

“Yes, and about that . . . I have it saved in a box hidden in the house. It’s yours.”

“No, it’s yours. That’s why I sent it.” I swing my leg over the seat and settle into the leather while righting the bike.

“Honey, I don’t need your money.”

“Save it for retirement then. I’m heading down to General Hardware to get a few things.”

“You might want to take the truck then.” She walks to the garage and pushes a code in. The door slides up and there’s my old truck. “You’re not going to be able haul more than a few nails on that motorcycle.”

She’s right. I move it to the side and get off, out of the way. Tossing me the keys, she says, “You can charge everything to my account there. I’m sure Fred will remember you.”

He’ll remember me all right. He busted Cole, Billy, and me stealing a tractor to joyride through the fields one night. Deputy Whaley let us go after a few hours, saying he was tired of our laughing. We were disturbing the peace of the jail. Coach came down to haul us to the field that night and worked us hard until the sun hit high noon. We’d dropped and lay there until my mom and Delilah showed up with turkey sandwiches and water, giving us just enough energy to get our sorry asses home. I pulled the drunk card.

Bad move on my part.

I was grounded for a week—no after-school fun, no phone, and no Delilah. I learned my lesson. Don’t be a dick and don’t screw up. Stay on the right side of the law, although that one might not have sunk in the way it should have when I reflect on the last few years of my life.

An hour later, I have everything loaded into the back of the truck and pay Mr. Carver for the supplies, because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking my mom with this bill. “Say hi to your mom.”

I give him a glare similar to the one I’ve used with the guys right before they were fucked up for whatever offense they committed against my clients. Getting into the truck, I’m about to leave when Billy shows up in a beat-up old Dodge truck and parks. With my window down, I roll up behind him. “You still driving that old clunker?”

He leans against the trunk and nods. “Yeah, she’s sweet when she wants to be.”

“Sounds a lot like Lou. How is Lorraine these days?”

“Married to some accountant two towns over.”

Shaking my head, I drop my hands from the steering wheel but keep my foot on the brake. “I always thought you guys would make it.”

“Some could say the same about you and Delilah.”

“Yeah, some could, but we all know how that turned out.”

He comes over, resting his arms on the door of my truck and looks inside the cab. “She’s in good shape.”

“Delilah?” I ask, wide-eyed.

He laughs. “No, the truck. Your mom’s kept her in good shape.”

“Oh yeah. She keeps her in the garage.” Silence slips in, an awkwardness that never used to exist back in high school. “Guess I should get back.”

Looking up at the sky, he says, “Yeah, it’s gonna rain. You need help getting that wood covered?”

“Nah. I got it.”

He backs up, and says, “We should grab a beer sometime before you leave.”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Considering I have no idea how long I’m staying, it’s probably best if I keep the people at a distance. But I hear the hurt in his tone, and guilt starts to sink in, so I offer, “You should come by.”

“Maybe I will. You’re drinking the fancy stuff these days? Heineken, huh?”

“I don’t know about fancy. I’ll drink a Pabst or Bud with you if you prefer.”

His keys jingle as he shoves them in his pocket. “I’ll bring some by later or tomorrow.”

“Sure. See you around, Billy.”

“See ya round.”

Eyeing those gray clouds in the sky, I should just head straight back, but my better senses seemed to have left me and I take the scenic route. There’s a shiny white truck parked out in front of the Noelle house when I drive by the farm. It’s not practical in color, and the rain is going to ruin that just washed shine, but if that truck’s hers, I like that she’s damning the elements of this town. If it’s not . . . I swallow hard, my ego caught like a lump in my throat.