Oops, I've Fallen

His words are bittersweet.

It’s been five years since my mom passed away from breast cancer, and still, I miss her. Both of us miss her. Francine Miller was the type of beautiful, kind, loving mother and wife that everyone deserves to have. She made everything better. And she kept my wild father in line.

My mind starts to wonder what things would be like now if she were still alive.

Would they still be living in New York, or would they both have moved to Sunny Creek together?

Would I even be here right now, helping out my dad because he pulled a groin muscle?

Would I have been saved from the trauma of walking in on him shaving his pubes?

Instantly, a question I’ve been wanting an answer for pops into my head. “Dad, how exactly did you manage this injury again?”

“I fell, Ry. No big deal.”

“Okay, but what were you doing when you fell?”

“Uh…” He pauses and shrugs. “I was just helping Stella Page take down decorations.”

Hmm. His story matches Carly’s account from her mom, but there’s just something about it I can’t seem to shake.

“Decorations? In September?”

“Yeah…why are you acting like that’s an issue?” he tosses back.

“Because there are no major holidays in September.”

“Kid, you know how women are,” he says and grabs the television remote to switch it on. “They have all sorts of reasons for decorating. I don’t question it. I just help when I’m asked. You should understand helping under duress pretty well.” I smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?” He holds up the remote, moving it back and forth in a taunting motion. “Or do you want to sit down and talk about the cutie on the other side of the window again?”

I scrub an annoyed hand down my face. He smirks at me, and I choose that moment to leave the room and get back to work before he can pull me into his loop of crazy.

So what? I noticed that Carly Page is an incredibly attractive woman.

Or that my original entertainment purposes for looking out the window this morning turned into something a little bit dirty.

I’ll be back home in New York in no time, and nosy dads and sexy, old-woman-thrashing Carly Page will all be in the past.

A certified nonissue.

September 14th, Monday

Sal

I hate this shit.

Sitting around, watching reruns of Bonanza, and praying that my son doesn’t ride my ass when I decide to grab a glass of whiskey before five o’clock in the evening.

I might be in my seventies, but I’m a doer. A mover and a shaker. A man who prefers to keep living, keep grooving, and only sit down when it’s my ass hitting the mattress to get some shut-eye.

“Of course, Jeremy.” My son’s voice echoes off the walls, a one-man corporate office come to my life in my dining room. “I’m glad we were able to get everything finalized.”

Since I’ve spent the last few days—he didn’t even stop working over the weekend—listening to every one of Ryan’s goddamn work calls, I’m certain this one is about to come to a close.

Immediately, I glance at the clock below the television and see it’s almost noon—otherwise known as time for Ry to force some kind of healthy lunch in my face and make me ice my nuts.

Son of a gun, times sure have changed. It was only a week ago that noon meant a whole different, far more glorious thing. The mere idea makes me grin, and I grab my phone off the couch cushion beside my right thigh.

A very important text message is sent out shortly thereafter.

Me: You know what I miss, darlin’?

Lucky for me, my hot lady’s response comes back a quick moment later.

Stella: What’s that, honey?

Me: Our nooners. Oh, the things I’d do to sneak in a nooner with ya, Stell. ;)

Stella: You bad, bad man. And I miss them too. ;)

Whoa doggie, I sure do miss my spicy senorita.

It feels like it’s been months since I’ve laid eyes on my woman.

Me: Gotta see you, darlin’. Think you can meet me at your back door so I can give you some sugar?

Stella: I wish. I’m at the grocery store with my daughter. :(

Dammit all to hell. I almost give up on trying to see her today, but then, like a gift from heaven above, a brilliant, son-of-a-bitch of an idea pops right into my brain.

Me: You at the Winn-Dixie?

My woman loves her some coupons. And, if I had to guess, she’s there because something’s on sale.

Stella: Yep. Ground beef is half off. Might make a meatloaf tonight.

I knew it. I smirk, and my stomach nearly growls just thinking about her cooking.

The things I’d do to eat a Stella home-cooked meal…

My mind almost derails my focus, but I hone it in and concentrate on the important shit—seeing Stella.

Me: Don’t tease me, darlin’. You just get there or about ready to check out?