“Holy crap.”
“Came home to MP because it was a good place to raise my family. But the idea of it cleared through the block I had about it when my dad drank himself to death and left me all of this.”
I had no idea.
I communicated that by saying, “Whoa.”
“Yeah. Long time ago, he got drunk, did it while playing poker, was on a losing streak, bet your place to Fred Nance. They didn’t like each other when they started the game. They liked each other a lot less when it was over. Dad tried unsuccessfully for over fifty years to get that land and house back. Fred wasn’t gonna have it. To the point he had it in his will that after he died and that lot was sold, since he had no wife and no kids and wasn’t a big fan of the rest of his family, it’d go to the state of Washington before he’d let me buy it.”
“That’s one mighty grudge,” I noted.
“Dad had been dead over a decade, and I did nothing to the man to deserve being cut out like that, so…yeah.”
“Did your dad do…other things like that?”
“This land was his dad’s land. And his dad’s before. And his father before that. The people who owned it before didn’t own it, according to white man ways, since they were Native Americans. That’s how far back it goes. Dad didn’t quit drinking. But he did learn his lesson about poker.”
“Well, at least that’s good.”
And it was.
What he said next was bad.
“Beat the shit outta me, which was okay, seein’ as once he started doing that, he quit beatin’ the shit outta Mom. Problem with that was, she could take it, but she wasn’t a huge fan of him dishin’ it out on me. So she hid baseball bats and knives around the house. Meant when he’d get in the mood, a weapon wouldn’t be too far off, and apparently, a woman sober as a judge and determined to make it so you don’t lay your hands on her boy makes even a drunk stand down. I cannot tell you how many times I came home from school and his shit was out on the deck. She loved him, though, and took him back. Then she loved him and didn’t take him back. He lived in a shack that way for years until she died.”
He pointed to the left of us.
And kept talking.
“No running water. No heat. Electricity from a generator. He bathed in the lake. What he couldn’t cook on an old Weber outside, he ate at the Double D. First thing I did when I came home was tear that shack down.”
This didn’t surprise me.
“How did your mom die?”
“Breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry. She sounded like something.”
He nodded. “She was beautiful. She was ballsy. She met a guy who loved her more than himself and moved him into her ex-husband’s house that she did not own, but Dad never turned her out, and they lived it up. Until he stood at her side through the shit of cancer. He lives in an RV now, on the road, chasing the end, lost without her. Just like Dad. When she was done with him, he was lost without her. Problem with him was, he was lost when he was with her too.”
“I’m getting the whole ‘beer whenever’ thing now,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“Did you like your stepfather?”
“Learned how to love from him, what I didn’t learn from Mom.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You’d be correct.”
I studied his profile. “You’re messing up my puzzle.”
His body shifted in surprise against mine. “What?”
“The Cade Bohannan I met after his daughter came ’round to alleviate her boredom and curiosity, defying your punishment. Mr. The Fewer Words Spoken is not this Mr. Let It All Hang Out.”
He roared with laughter.
Since he had never done that around me, I was both struck and captivated.
The moon was diffused by clouds.
His outside lights were on, they dispelled some darkness, but they didn’t fully reach us.
I could see him, yet he was in shadow.
And he was beautiful.
However.
“What’s funny?”
“Fuck, I wanna kiss you,” he muttered to the lake, his beard still forming a grin.
I turned in the curve of his arm.
“Why did you say that?”
I asked this instead of, why don’t you do it?
He looked down at me.
“Larue, you’re you.”
“That’s indisputable.”
“You’re pretty as hell. Famous as fuck. Talented like crazy. And I’d been a fan of yours for thirty years. I was pissed at my girl. Worried about her. And I had to show at your place to get her, try not to embarrass her. And try not to embarrass myself.”
“You were…nervous?” I asked in shock.
He turned more to me. “Babe, you’re pretty as hell. Famous as fuck. Talented like crazy. I watched you on TV for over seven thousand minutes, and your show was funny, but like I said, I tuned in for you. I read your book three times. You open the door and you’re prettier in person and your ass is better than when you were twenty-four. So, fuck yeah, I was nervous.”
“So you weren’t talkative at first because you were nervous?”
“Nope,” he answered. “Got over that real quick when I realized you wanted to jump me.”
I sat back into the chair and glowered at the lake. “I so should have put on sunglasses.”
He chuckled and squeezed my shoulders with his arm.
“Then you wouldn’t shut up so I couldn’t get a word in edgewise,” he went on.
“You can really stop talking now,” I invited.
He didn’t accept my invitation.
“Though, that Five Voices of Criticism was some deep shit, baby.”
I was rethinking my desire to jump him, or vice versa (though, not really).
“And in my hermetically sealed box, I filed away that you’re one serious hardass. A small-minded chemistry teacher, who will mean dick to my beautiful daughter in the glorious life she’s gonna lead, under your chopping block? I’d advise against the school board. There aren’t enough teachers in the country to pass your tests.”
“You keep speaking, but I might never do it again,” I warned.
He gave me another squeeze.
“I don’t talk a lot because you can’t observe when you’re flapping your mouth,” he explained.
A point to ponder.
“Right.”
“But we can’t get to know each other if I don’t tell you about me.”
“Right again.”
“You pissed?”
He sounded surprised.
As he would be, since I wasn’t pissed seeing as there was nothing to be pissed about, even the teasing, which was sweet.
I was disappointed.
“No. I’m upset because I wanted to jump you so much, I didn’t realize you were nervous and that was probably cute. But instead, all I saw was hot.”
“I’m not broken up about that,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes at the mist on the lake.
It lightened because headlights hit it.
We both turned, nearly bumping heads as we watched the Mustang pull in, followed closely by silver Ram (Jess) and black Ram (Jace).
The Mustang skidded to an angry halt and Bohannan murmured, “Oh fuck.”