I drag myself to my feet and stumble into her room. “Nana, you sick?” I ask.
The room’s dark and she’s lying on the bed with an eye mask on her face. “Yeah. I think I came down with the flu.”
“Shit. I’ve got it too.”
“I heard you puking this morning.”
“Sorry.”
She pats the bed. “Come over here and lay next to me, baby. You done with work?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, I’m off until tomorrow morning. No club tonight.”
“That’s good. You work too hard.”
I crawl onto the space that she’s made for me. Back when I was little, I used to sleep with Nana. I’d get scared and she’d find me huddled under my blankets, crying into my pillow. Mom was off with Ray or one of the many men she had before Ray. Nana would carry me into her room and tell me that the monsters weren’t going to get me as long as we held on to each other.
I find my grandmother’s hand and twine my fingers through hers. “It’s only for a few more months.”
“Don’t kill yourself before then.”
“I won’t.”
She squeezes my fingers. “I’m sorry about what I said.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re uppity. That your momma thought about getting rid of you. I’m glad she didn’t. I love you, baby girl.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I love you too.”
“I’m sorry I’m not a better parent to you.”
“You’ve done a good job,” I protest. “I’m going to Harvard, remember?”
“Yeah. Harvard.” The word is filled with disbelief and wonder.
“What about me?” Ray whines from the doorway. “You never finished cooking breakfast and it’s now fucking lunch time.”
Next to me, I can feel Nana’s slight body shake and I don’t know whether it’s from anger or sickness. I force myself to sit up. “You stay here, Nana. I’ll get it.”
She turns her head away from the door, away from Ray, but also away from me. I guess, secretly, I wanted her to tell Ray to go fuck himself.
He grunts as I pass him on my way to the kitchen.
“What do you want?” I open the fridge and find it surprisingly empty. I wonder if Nana’s been feeling sick for a while and I haven’t noticed.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup,” he says. He drags a chair away from the kitchen table and drops his skinny ass into it.
“Go watch TV,” I tell him as I pull out a block of cheddar cheese, butter and milk.
“Nah, I like seeing your ass in the kitchen. It’s just as good as any show.” He folds his arms behind his head and leans back. I can feel his beady eyes following my every sluggish move.
The bread looks surprisingly inviting and I tear off a small piece, chewing it slowly to see if I can keep it down. When my stomach doesn’t send it straight back in revolt, I eat another small piece. After a few moments, the dizziness and queasiness subside.
The cast-iron pan is already on the stove, and I have the sandwich ready to brown in no time.
“Don’t forget the soup, missy.”
I rub the side of my neck with my middle finger before crossing the room to grab a can of soup out of the cupboard.
“Why are you such an asshole?” I ask conversationally as I root around in the drawer for the can opener. “Is it because you’re a worthless sack of shit and can’t bear to look at yourself in the mirror? Or is it because the only woman you can con into your bed these days is a member of the AARP?”
“I’ve got plenty of pussy, don’t you worry about me. Someday you’re going to fall off your high horse and come crawling to me.” He makes a gross smacking sound with his mouth. “And maybe I’ll agree to fuck you, or maybe I’ll just let you suck me off when I feel like it.”
I’d rather kill myself.
No, I correct, I’d kill him first.
As I operate the can opener, I fantasize about the sharp lid coming off and winging across the room and slicing Ray’s dick off. Then the acid of the tomato hits my nose, and an overwhelming urge to vomit washes over me.
I drop everything and race to the bathroom, where I throw up for the third time today.
18
Tucker
New Year’s Eve
At quarter past two, Sabrina appears at the entrance of the club. Her brown hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and she’s thrown a long coat over her skimpy waitressing uniform. An older lady exits behind her. The two exchange words, pausing under the dimly lit entrance.
My heart starts thumping erratically. I didn’t get to kiss her tonight at midnight to ring in the New Year, but I plan on kissing her all night long to make up for that. I missed her like crazy down in Texas, and even though my mom worked me like a dog, Sabrina wasn’t far from my mind.
I fixed the railing on the porch, helped Mom repot some of the perennials she was keeping in the garage, changed five light bulbs, the batteries on all the smoke detectors, cleaned out her furnace, and ran errands from the moment I got up until the moment I lay down. I’d also met with Mr. #1 Realtor and made all the right noises, but as hard as I tried to envision Sabrina in Patterson, the image never came into focus.
“Hey, handsome,” she greets me. “I didn’t know you were coming here. I thought I was meeting up with you tomorrow.”
“Couldn’t wait,” I say truthfully. “Happy New Year, darlin’.”
“Happy New Year, Tuck.”
I gather her up against me and bury my face in her exposed neck. She quivers in response to the light caress, and the half-hard cock in my pants rises to full mast.
Reluctantly, I set her aside and pull open the car door. “We better get going or all my good intentions are going into the shitter.”
“I thought your good intentions were to fuck me into tomorrow,” she teases, referencing one of the texts I managed to shoot off to her in between the chores my mom thought up.
I nearly tackle Sabrina to the ground, but despite her light words, I can see exhaustion in every line of her gorgeous face.
Instead, I nod toward the others trudging toward their cars. “Why give these folks a free show?”
“Good point.” She twirls the key ring around her finger. “Slight problem. My stepfather is home and I don’t know if we want a repeat of that last scene.”