Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

Dalton didn’t remember much from the drive home. He could barely keep his eyes open. Once inside his house he plugged in his nearly dead cell, stripped and crawled between the sheets.

His mother showed up at his door two hours later.

Dalton wished he would’ve stayed in bed. But then they’d be having a conversation in his bedroom instead of the living room since she’d just barged in.

“By all means, Ma, come in.”

“You left Carson and Carolyn’s without saying goodbye.”

“I don’t think anyone noticed.”

“I noticed.”

“Is that why you’re here? To chew my ass about some post-funeral breach of etiquette? Don’t care.”

His mother waltzed into his kitchen and opened cupboards until she found what she was looking for.

Booze.

She snagged two plastic cups and pointed to the couch. “Sit.

“Why are you—”

“Son, you had to be expecting this.”

And don’t you want to know the truth?

No. He’d already come to terms with this.

Dalton sat in the recliner.

His mother perched on the end of the couch closest to him.

And he noticed her hand shook when she dumped scotch in the cups.

Fuck. Why was she nervous?

Yeah, you’ve really come to terms with this.

He didn’t look at her when he picked up his cup. “Who told you?”

“Tell. Don’t be mad at him.”

“I’m not. We called him Tattle-Tell for a reason growing up.”

She barked out a laugh. “I’d forgotten about that.”

Dalton sipped his drink. “Was it hard for you today?”

“Harder than I thought it’d be, if you want to know the truth.” She lifted her glass. “Some ass**le at the senior center asked me if the only reason I was going to the funeral was to make sure my ex was really dead.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, well, like my mother always said, consider the source. Which leads to why I’m here.”

“Ma. Don’t. Okay? It doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll have my say, Dalton, whether you like it or not. So could you look at me please?”

He counted to ten before he raised his head and met her eyes. Kind eyes. Eyes spilling over with tears.

“After everything I went through with that man over the years. Some of it pretty awful stuff…I didn’t think I could hate him any more than I did. I was wrong. After what he told you…”

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

“I almost didn’t come here tonight to tell you this. But I want all this shit done and buried now that your father is gone.”

Dalton didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.

“Casper McKay was your father, Dalton. Period. I never cheated on him when we were married. The time in question, when I left him? Unlike your father’s claim he didn’t know where I’d run off to and I’d shacked up with some guy, I stayed with my aunt and uncle—my elderly aunt and uncle. And you can imagine how miserable that must’ve been if I returned to my husband after a week.”

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I think you secretly hoped he wasn’t your father. And that hope…changed you.” She poured another splash of scotch in their cups. “I’m not excusing what he said to you. But not knowing if he was or wasn’t your father allowed you to cut ties with everything that’d always defined you, which you needed. Probably more than you knew. And I understand why you believed him without question. I suspect he’d been laying the groundwork for something like that for years.”

Dalton swirled the scotch in his cup. “Did he believe I wasn’t his kid? That’d explain the beatings and the ridicule he leveled on me.”

“Oh, that bastard knew very well that I never screwed around on him. He never doubted you were his kid, but he made you doubt it and that’s where he got that sense of power. After all the shit you’d been through the week you called off the wedding, Casper knew he could say whatever the hell he wanted to you and you wouldn’t tell anyone, just like you’d kept quiet on the abuse.” She knocked back a slug of scotch. “I confronted him about that, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know,” he said evenly. “When?”

She stared into her cup. “A few months after I started seeing a counselor. She told me I needed to face him head on so I could deal with my guilt and place the blame where it belonged; on him. So I showed up at his church one Sunday morning. Hoo-boy was he shocked to see me. More flustered than I’d ever seen him. He did not want me hanging around chatting up his new churchy friends.”

He couldn’t even smile.

“I asked him out for coffee. I think he would’ve agreed to anything to get me out of his little religious sanctuary. In the restaurant I let fly with everything I had. My disgust for him, for everything he’d done to you. And do you wanna know what that sonuvabitch said to me?” Her haunted eyes met her son’s. “If I’d been a better mother I would’ve known. He knew exactly what’d cut me the deepest and he did it without blinking.”

“I hope you punched him.”

His mom reached out and squeezed his knee. “No, but I did lose my temper. He laughed and claimed you hadn’t told anyone about it until you were an adult because then you could exaggerate the past events to make people feel sorry for you and hate him.” She squeezed his knee again. “That’s when I realized he was afraid people would believe you. Imagine his shock when I told him since he’d spoken so highly of his minister, I intended to ask for his help in learning to find forgiveness.”

Now that made Dalton smile. “You didn’t.”

“I did. He lost his mind and the restaurant manager had to intervene. I left. I let Casper stew on that for a few weeks. Petty thing to do, but it gave me a sense of satisfaction and I was able to overcome a few blocks I had with the situation. I did show up at his church a couple times a year, just to be ornery, just to watch him squirm.”

“God, Ma. I love you.”

She smiled. “Good to hear. So you might think after Tell told me this last bullshit manipulative lie your father spewed I would’ve confronted him. But this time I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s what the man wanted and I wouldn’t give him the pleasure. You didn’t give it to him either. Isn’t it pathetic he’s been waiting over three years for the fallout to begin? He died disappointed and alone and maybe it makes me a horrible human being to say this, but I can’t think of any man who deserves it more.”