“She did. Which actually made a lot of sense until she started talking about Viagra and vitamins.”
We share a laugh, which doesn’t exactly make Mom happy, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m delivering the ring bearer. The flower girl is M-I-A. She’s sitting in the crowd with her daddy,” Petal says coming in and, thankfully, breaking up the conversation before it can travel more into that topic. “Sis, you look gorgeous.”
“Thanks, Petal. For the first time in a long time, I feel it.”
“Mommy, you’re so pretty!” Terry says, excitedly.
“Thanks, baby, and Mommy’s little man looks so handsome.” I bend down to kiss him, and he pulls away.
“Maw, stop. You’re messing with my street cred.”
“Your what?” I ask, laughing and shocked. It’s not every day your six-year-old child says you’re messing with his street cred….
“Street cred,” he says. “You know, it’s when all the girls in your class want to be your girlfriend.”
“That boy might have the last name Matthews, but he definitely has Lucas blood taking control,” Mom says thoughtfully. I take a breath because she’s definitely right, and that means his teen years and every year after that are going to be hell for me…
“I’m so glad you and Bryant finally worked everything out,” Petal says gently after giving me a hug.
“You and me both,” I laugh.
“They still fight,” Terry chimes in.
“What?” I squeak, looking at Terry. I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about. Bryant and I haven’t been fighting at all.
“Magnolia Tree!”
“Mom, we haven’t been fighting. We actually never fight,” I tell her, and I’m not lying. Bryant and I didn’t fight even before we worked everything out. I don’t know what Terry is talking about.
“Sure you do, Mom. Remember? Dad was talking about your vulva leaking and making your carpet wet.”
“Vulva?” Faith squeaks.
“A wet carpet, Maggie? Didn’t I teach you that a little landscaping goes a long way? How do you expect to keep Bryant ready and able to—”
“Mom!” Petal and I practically yell together while Faith laughs so hard that she physically snorts. I give her a mean look, but that just makes her laugh harder. Then, I turn to my mom, giving her meaningful motion toward Terry. Mom shrugs innocently.
“I’m just saying, if you want Bryant to plant your garden, an overgrown landscape isn’t the best way to go about it,” she mutters.
“You’re one to talk about neat landscapes, Mom, considering all of those how to videos you left lying around the cabin,” I mutter.
“I think I’ll take Terry out to the porch. It’s almost time to start marching,” Petal says, putting her hand on my son’s shoulder.
“But I want to stay, Aunt Pet. I’m hoping Daddy buys Mommy a truck instead. It’ll be cool. That dumb Donahue kid thinks he’s so great cause his Mommy drives one. He’ll hate it if he knows Mom does, too!”
That’s when it hits me.
“Volvo,” I practically shout, everyone looking up at me. “Bryant wants to replace my car because the sunroof is leaking, and I just want to fix the car instead,” I explain.
“That’s what I said, Mommy, vulva,” Terry responds, and everyone around me starts laughing.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to hide my laughter. Mom, Petal, and Faith don’t really need any encouragement.
This will be one I let Bryant handle.
37
Blue
“Well, if you don’t look as mad as a wet hen.”
I grunt my reply, looking up at my mom.
“Don’t you grunt at me, Blue Moon Lucas,” Mom grumbles, and I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t have much energy to be any way else at this point.
“Christ, stop calling me that,” I mutter, wincing when she uses my full name.
“Then quit being ugly.”
“Afraid that’s genetics, Mom,” I mutter, looking out at the crowd. I’m sitting on the porch in an old rocker while the reception part of Maggie and Bryant’s wedding is in full swing. The wedding was supposed to be small, but as always when a Lucas is involved, it never works out that way. There’s probably a hundred people or more out there. My gaze zeros in on only one person.
Meadow.
She stands out in a sea of people. For me, she always has.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to snatch you bald headed, Blue, and considering how much you spend to get that hair of yours cut, I’d be worried.” If I wasn’t staring at my worst nightmare, I’d smile. “You’ve been hell to live with since Meddie moved back to Mason,” Mom adds, cutting through the bullshit, much like she always does.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m anything but fine, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to hope that eventually I get used to having Meadow so close. It doesn’t matter. Meadow is my past, and if I’m going to be honest, Meadow and I never really had time to figure out what we could have been. It was over before it much more than began. The fault of that lands at my feet, but the rift between us since? That’s all on her. I should be able to let it go. I should move past everything that happened when I was young and stupid—including her.
Why in the fuck can’t I?
“You look anything but fine, boy.”
“Mom, I haven’t been a boy for a hell of a lot of years.”
“You need to get your head out of your ass before you lose her.”
“She’s not mine,” I mutter, ignoring that flutter in my chest that happens with Mom’s words.
“She won’t be if you don’t get to moving. You can’t stand by and think it to death. You did that once.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t you dare mom me. If you drag your feet on this, I’ll set your ass on fire. If you let her slip through your fingers again, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“It’s too late.”
“Bull hockey.”
“I’m serious, Mom. There’s too much water under the bridge. Hell, have you forgotten the restraining order she had served on me six years ago? If you think she’s going to welcome me into her life, you’re fooling yourself.”
“I thought you had more gumption about you, son,” she mutters, making a noise that somehow makes me feel her disappointment in me. Mom is skilled at making sounds that can cut you up even more than her words. I’m pretty sure it’s an art form.
“Mom—”
“If seeing how our family lives hasn’t gotten through to you…,” she adds, shaking her head.
“What are you talking about?” I mumble, getting annoyed, but trying to keep it out of my voice. I know Mom means well, but she just doesn’t understand that there’s nothing between Meadow and I to save at this point.
“Look at Gray, White, Petal, Black and now Maggie. Haven’t you seen how they’ve fought for love? Especially your sisters. Do you really think they would give up on love as easily as you are?”