Duke

Is there any fucking way that I could be normal for the woman I want to be with? I need her as if she is the oxygen that is pulled into my body. Slightly shaking my head, I walk aimlessly away from the restaurant. What does a man do when he fuck’s up? Call his mother of course. I pull my phone out and dial her number. She picks up on her first ring.

“Duke? Oh my God! What’s wrong, baby?” she asks without taking a breath. I chuckle.

“Nothing’s wrong, mom. Why are you freaking out?” I ask.

“You never call unless something is wrong,” she says and that gives me pause.

Suddenly I am trying to remember all the times I have called her. That can’t be true. However, thinking back on it, I know that it is and now I feel like an even bigger piece of shit. What the hell is wrong with me? This is the woman who saved my life. She took me out of hell and raised me to be the man I am today. Now, this is how I treat her? I really am the worst son possible. Who can’t take a few minutes to call their mother? A dick head, that’s who.

“Jesus, ma. I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’ll be better, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I know you are a busy man,” she says. Her voice suddenly sounds weary. “So why are you calling so late?” I hate that I put that weary tone in her voice and something as simple as a fucking phone call could fix it.

“There’s a woman,” I begin, and she cuts me off.

“A woman? What woman?” she asks excitedly.

“She is gorgeous and perfect. But, I think I just messed it all up,” I say.

“Who is she?”

“Esther Van Adams and I love her,” I tell her.

“Oh, Frannie’s best friend. I like her. She’s perfect for you. Her parents are real pieces of work though,” Mom says.

“I’ve gathered that in my research,” I reply, still aimlessly walking down Randolph.

“Research? Oh, Duke. You talk to a woman; you do not do research on her. And I am sure you have a PI on her.”

“Well, yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my head.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“What do I do?” I ask, hating that I sound like the thirteen-year-old boy I once was.

“Here’s my advice, son. Esther seems like a straight-forward woman, but a woman, nonetheless. Go to her. Don’t let it fester and prevent you from getting her and keeping her.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now. I am sure you have her address from your research,” she tells me, and I chuckle.

“Yeah. I do.”

“I don’t know what you did but be sure to apologize. Grovel if you need to.”

“I will,” I say.

“Good, I have selfish reasons for this of course,” she says.

“What reasons?”

“I want to be overrun with grandbabies,” she says sighing.

“Overrun? You mean the two on the way aren’t enough for you?” I ask, chuckling again.

“Not by a longshot, buddy.”

“Alright, Ma. I got it,” I reply.

“I better see you on Sunday and bring Esther.”

“I’ll be there,” I promise.

“Esther too. Fix this, Duke. I love you,” she says.

“I love you too,” I reply, hanging up.

As soon as I hang up, I grab a taxi and give the driver her address. In front of her apartment there is a floral cart still open, so I buy a dozen roses and head into her building. I knock on the door, and in no time, she answers with a shocked look on her face to see me.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, full of sass. Without another word, I put my hand on her waist and bring her closer to me.

“I am here to apologize to you,” I say right before my lips crash down on hers. She melts into me instantly.

“I don’t think that actually counts as an apology,” she says breathless.

“I’m sorry, Esther. I shouldn’t have said what I said, but it also doesn’t change the fact that the guy is a dick,” I say.

“This is sounding less and less like an apology,” she says, hands on her hips.

“I know and I’m sorry about that too,” I say moving in to kiss her again.

“Fine, I get it,” she says. “What are those?”

“Roses. I was told to come with a hat in hand. Whenever my dad messes up with my mom, he always brings her flowers,” I tell her, handing them over to her. I grin when she breathes them in.

“They are lovely. Let me put them in water,” she says. I stand rooted at the door because I don’t want to miss the sway of her ass as she walks away. Also, because she hasn’t invited me in yet.

I’d wait forever for that invitation.Chapter TenEstherSeeing him standing at my door with flowers in his hand and a face full of contrition, makes the blood in my heart begin to pump again. Taking the flowers from him, I walk away from the door more than aware of the fact that I didn’t invite him in. Part of it is because I need a second to pull myself together. To say I am more than happy to see him is an understatement. I also leave him standing there because I feel like being a bitch. After a few minutes, I walk over to him.