Chapter Two
Tate
"Mom?" I called out as I opened the dilapidated front door to the small, one-bedroom house my mother and I shared. She was overly precautious about someone breaking into the house, so to save myself from having her shotgun in my face, I started making sure to let her know I was home. It was just far safer than the alternative. My lips lifted in a smile at the thought.
"In here, baby." She poked her head out from the kitchen and lifted her eyebrow at me. "Why are you late? You're usually done with dinner and sitting at this old kitchen table studying by now."
"Long day at the shop. We had more cars than hands to fix them." I let my backpack drop from my shoulders onto the couch before tugging my jacket off. "I'm going to go with Sam to a party later tonight, but I'll be back home for sure."
She moved back into the kitchen and had her back to me when I walked in. "Fine, but please be careful. I'd rather you take my jeep than drive that bike late at night. It's freezing out there and you know that in next few days, it's only going to get worse."
"I'll be fine, Mom. I'm not taking your jeep. My bike's sturdy and has the right tires to deal with anything that your jeep could deal with. Shit, it's probably more prepared." I sat down at the table as she gave me a look over her shoulder.
"Watch your mouth. There are a million more words you could choose. I don't need to hear you cursing." She dished me up a bowl of something and moved to sit down in front of me.
"Sorry, Mom." I pulled the stew toward me and breathed in deeply, loving the smell of it as it penetrated my lungs.
I'd been raised by the kind woman across from me, and she was all I knew, but she wasn't my mother. I didn't know my parents, nor did I want to. Sarah was all I needed. We'd spoken about my adoption once when I was 12 and never again. She was all the mother I could hope for, and I tried hard to live up to being the son she deserved.
"Where is this party, anyway? Are you taking that sleazy blonde girl you were seeing from school?" Her nose turned up as she pushed a pan of cornbread toward me. "You want butter?"
I got up and laughed. "I'll get it myself, and no, I'm not seeing Andrea anymore. I'm not sure why you didn't like her. She was so...loving."
The snort from my mother caused me to laugh. Andrea was by far one of the sluttiest girls I'd brought home, but something about her left me wanting to save her. I was most likely the one that needed saving from my grandeur hope for a better future and a love story to tell my grandkids, but nevertheless, I looked for broken souls. It somehow made me feel better. Wanted. Needed.
"Yeah, loving and extremely touchy-feely. The girl groped you three times the last time you guys were here." She followed me with a stern look on her face as I laughed again.
"Mom. That's the new way to hug nowadays. You should get out more."
"Hug? By cupping someone’s crotch? No, sir." She shook her head. "I'd whoop someone's ass if they tried to hug me."
I'd just lifted a spoonful of soup to my mouth and laughed so hard it sprayed it across the table.
She turned and started to clean it up as her lips lifted in a smile. "I love you. You're a great kid. Did you know that?"
"I'm a man, Mom." I smirked and sat back in my chair. "Now, if you could butter and honey up my cornbread, please. You do it better than I do."
"Brother." She grabbed the plate and started to fix my bread like she always had. A cough left her as she turned and lifted her hands to her face.
"That doesn't sound good." Concern ran through me, and I watched her closely for signs of anything other than the nasty cough as she walked to the sink and washed her hands.
"It's okay. Just a cold. You know I don't do so well during the winter months. It just gets so cold here." She turned to look at me as she dried her hands. "When does school start back up?"
"Tomorrow." I shook my head and worked on the stew in my bowl. "I'm actually looking forward to it, though. I think having to work so damn hard to pay for it makes me honestly respect the fact that I need to do well."
Her expression saddened. "I wish I could help. There is a possibility for me to pick up more shifts at the hospital."
"No." I gave her a silly expression. "I'm good. The shop is bringing in enough to help pay for my books and keep me and you fed. You just worry about the mortgage and the lights. One day, I'll be able to take care of all of it for us."
"One day, you'll be married with a family of your own, Tate." She moved around the table and gripped my shoulders softly before leaning over and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You need to focus on you and not me."
"Right. Try again." I stifled the need to make a million more promises I wasn't sure I could come through on. I wanted to give her the world, and not just because she'd opened her home and her heart to me, but because she was a good woman and deserved it. Her last boyfriend had been an asshole and a half, and the day I got to kick him out was one of the best days of my life.
She had no clue what respect looked like between a man and a woman, and I was struggling to find the boundary lines myself. I couldn't remember her ever being in a healthy relationship.
My best friend Sam's parents were in a good, solid relationship. I'd learned most of what I needed to know about being a good man from Sam's dad. Sam and I had been inseparable since grade school, and it had been him who forced me to look into scholarships and grants to attend University of Minnesota. It was a great school and I loved the idea of growing smarter and furthering myself, but it was certainly taking a toll on my income.
Funny enough, Sam was also the one that regretted getting me started in college. My ability to diagnose and fix cars was almost uncanny, and the guys at the shop were giving me hell for passing up Jerry's opportunity to have more hours at the shop. Sam was on my ass to rethink everything, too, but I was 18 months away from graduating. There was no way I was throwing in the towel. I'd invested far too much. I could keep pushing forward for another year and a half, then I would find a way to cut back and re-balance everything.
Weariness rolled over me as I thought through all that I had coming up the next week with classes starting back up. Jerry needed me at the shop six days a week for the next few months. The winter season was always the busiest for us, and I was loyal to a fault, if nothing else.
A knock pulled me from my thoughts. My mother was already headed toward the door by the time I stood up.
"Mom, let me-"
She opened the door, and Sam walked in, giving her a big hug.
My stomach was tied in knots as I let out a long sigh and dropped back down into my chair. I was scared as hell that we hadn't seen the last of Daniel, my mom's ex with a temper that would scare Lucifer himself.
"It smells like your famous beef stew in here, Ms. Phillips. You saved me some, right?" He walked in and patted my back. "Hey, buddy."
"Hey. There's still some in that pot on the stove. Get you a bowl and join me." I took another big bite and tried to calm myself. Daniel was in jail the last time I checked and everything was fine. It had to be. I couldn't handle another uproar where my mother's life was put in danger. We would need to move, regardless of funding or opportunity. She meant too much to me to let anything happen to her.
"There's plenty. You boys eat it until it's all gone. You know I hate leftovers. It means the meal wasn't nearly as good as it should have been." She stopped by the door to the kitchen and coughed again. "I'm going to turn in early and try to knock this cold out before it knocks me off my feet."
"Alright." I got up and gave her a hug. "No opening the door tonight. I'm serious."
"Tate. It's fine. Daniel is in jail, and I got my shotgun by the front door. No one's going to hurt me. I promise." She touched my face and moved around me to focus on Sam. "Don't let him bring home another slut puppy. Alright, Sammy?"
"Yes, ma'am." He glanced over his shoulder to give her a serious look and curt nod. "Only church girls that sing in the choir for Tate, Ms. Phillips."
"There we go. That's why you're his best friend." She laughed and turned to give me another hard stare. "Be careful on the bike. I'm serious."
"Alright, Mom. I'll be home late tonight. Get some rest." I moved to sit back down at the table and dove back into my dinner, loving how well my mother could cook. That had to be one of the two things I wanted out of a wife. Someone that could cook and a woman that would love me past my poverty and faults. I wasn't highly likely to get either, much less both, but I could dream.
"Dude, that cough doesn't sound good. Has she had that checked out?" Sam sat down across from me and gave me a hard stare. "I'm pretty sure that's bronchitis."
Sam was in his final year of pre-med and would be on to medical school in Boston in a year or so. I was going to miss him like hell, but the world needed more doctors like him. He was kind and caring, giving and incredibly patient.
"I doubt it. She works at the hospital, and you know she still won't tell anyone that she's not feeling good." I let out a sigh and worked to get another piece of cornbread from the pan. "Don't eat this. It tastes like shit."
"Liar. Give me that." He pulled the pan toward him and smirked at me. "This party tonight is going to be off the chain. I heard Darrin say they invited the girls from the prep school the next county over to join us."
"Prep school? That's high school, Sam." I shook my head at him. "Those girls aren't legal, and I'm not touching any of them."
"Most of them are seniors, Tate. Eighteen, dude." Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You need to get laid, like, yesterday. You're moody and have dark circles under your eyes."
"My balls are too full? Is that what you're telling me?" I took another bite of my stew before realizing that it was too cold to enjoy. I got up and popped it into the microwave as we continued our recurring conversation about my sex life.
"Something like that." He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Have you slept with anyone since Andrea and you split up last week?"
"Nope, but I'm going to tonight. It's just not going to some virgin high school chick. That's gross." I pulled the bowl from the microwave and walked over to take my seat again. "I want a woman that knows what she's doing and isn't afraid to explore her pleasure with me."
"Explore her pleasure." Sam tapped his spoon against his mouth as he got a faraway look. "I like that. Does that pick-up line work? You're the one that gets the girls all the time."
"Shut up." I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him.
"No, I'm serious. Like I'm going to try that shit tonight. I'll just walk up to a fine girl and say, 'Hi, I'm Sam. You wanna maybe go explore your pleasure with me?'"
"Yes. Please do that. Make sure I'm right beside you with a hand towel to help clean you up when you get a drink in your face." I laughed. "It's cold outside, too, so it's likely to scald your girly face, seeing that it'll be hot chocolate."
"Or cider. Could be apple cider." He stirred his soup and let out a grunt. "You remember that party we went to at the beginning of December? Amber May's party? She had cider."
"It wasn't the cider you were interested in." I tried not to think about that night. It hadn't been my finest moment. Where I wanted to be the type of guy who respected women, when it came to a horny girl and a few too many beers, I was nothing less than carnal.
"This is true, but the tits on that pretty Asian girl were incredible. You have to admit, she was sexy." He took a big bite of his stew and yelled, spitting it back out. "Fuck, that was hot."
"You deserved that. She's someone's daughter." I laughed at his scathing look.
"You had her give you head later that night. Don't talk to me about being a good guy." He got up and poured himself a glass of tea from the fridge.
"I didn't ask her to do that. She just kept talking about how hungry she was all damn night. I got sick of hearing it." I shrugged. "She was quick to act when I offered her something to chew on."
"Brother. You have to tell me how you fucking do it. You get laid more than any guy I know." Sam dropped an ice cube into his bowl and started to stir it around like he'd been doing since we were kids.
"You just said that I wasn't getting laid that often, and now I'm a regular slut?" I lifted my bowl to my lips and drank the rest of the liquid in it. Warmth filled me, and I couldn't help but let out a groan. "God, I love this stew."
"Yes, you're a slut, but you knew that. Have your mother get that cough checked out, seriously." His brow pulled tight, and I nodded in agreement before starting toward the stove.
I paused and decided one bowl was enough. Besides, I planned to find something else to entertain my hunger that night. Sam was right, I was a bit of a slut and it had been too long since I'd gotten laid. A couple of beers and a warm body to snuggle up to was the promise that the night lay before me.
Now to find someone that would turn me on without having to try.
Good luck with that one. She doesn't exist.