Okay, yup. Too far. I went too far.
My roommate looks like she wants to tear off my balls and dunk them into my teacup. Steep, baby. Steep.
A tight, itchy silence blankets the room as Iris and I glare at each other. I address the other women at the table. “Thank you for dinner, ladies. It was delicious.”
I grab my empty plate, tuck it into the dishwasher and drag my ass up to my bedroom.
9
Jude
Ma sets down a steaming teacup on the table, right next to my plate of warm-from-the-oven apple pie.
“Did I put too much sugar? Is it too sweet?” She fusses as I take my first sip. “Is it too hot?” She presses the back of her hand against my forehead. “Oh look at you, poor thing. You’re sweating.”
Walker throws a glare at me from under the brim of his straw hat. He’s across the deck, tightening a loose screw on the porch gate. “He’s sweating because he’s drinking tea in eighty-six degree weather,” he mutters, expression heavy with irritation.
I’ve always been amazed by Walker’s ability to convey so much vitriol with so few words. It’s an impressive skill that doesn’t get nearly enough recognition.
Ma doesn’t register my oldest brother’s smart-ass comment, though. She’s too busy fluffing up the cushion behind my back. “Walker, go get him the table fan. The extension cord should be able to reach.”
As the youngest of the Kingston boys, it’s basically my biological obligation to give my older brothers shit. So, I can’t resist the urge to razz him. “Yeah, Walker. The extension cord should be able to reach.” I serve myself another slice of pie.
My brother’s response is an eyeroll.
It’s a sunny afternoon. We’re all chilling on the back porch of the Kingston Family Inn. And I’m seriously starting to question why I subject myself to the awkwardness over at Iris’s place when I could just move here and get the royal treatment twenty-four-seven.
My mother loves fawning over me. Really, I’m the one doing her a favor.
She focuses her devoted attention on me. “Do you need anything else, sweetie?”
I rub my thigh that’s elevated on the empty chair beside me. “Maybe some more ice for my knee, please?”
My mother smiles dutifully. “Oh, yes, honey. Of course. Right away.”
“Thanks, Ma. You’re the best.” I stuff another bite of delicious pie into my face as she scurries inside through the screen door.
Callie snickers from where she’s tucked against my father’s side across the table.
“What are you laughing at?” I scrunch up my nose at my four-year-old niece and grin.
“Uncle Jude’s a big baby.” She licks her sticky fingers and digs into her basket of crayons.
“You’re the big baby,” I say, “With that ice cream you have all over your face.” I stick out my tongue and shove a wad of paper towels at her.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and giggles adorably.
When Mom rushes back out with an ice pack and some towels, my father looks up from his newspaper and shakes his head. “Diana, it’s a knee injury. He’s not in palliative care.” He takes a drink of his beer.
“A bunch of haters you all are.” Playfully, I shoot narrowed glares around at my family. “You guys are all just jealous ‘cause I’m Ma’s favorite.”
Callie halts her coloring to hit me with a glare. “I’m Nana’s favorite,” the child deadpans, daring me to challenge her.
Walker pauses with the screwdriver in hand. Over his flannel-covered back, he throws me a don’t-you-dare-argue-with-the-four-year-old look. I chuckle. I’m not that much of an asshole.
And the truth is, Mom and Dad would die for that child. They’re the closest thing to parents she has. Her father, Eli, has been in jail for over a year now. Her mother hasn’t been seen or heard from for just as long. Thank god the little girl has the rest of us Kingstons in her corner.
I’m grateful to have them, too. I don’t know how I would have managed this injury without my family’s support. The minute I got hurt, Cannon was ringing down every phone in the league to get information about my injury. Walker stayed with Callie so my parents could jump in their car and drive all the way up to Iowa to be with me. And after Mom and Dad returned home, not a day went by without them video-calling to make sure I was taking care of myself. I’m lucky to be a part of this tribe.
Ma squeezes herself onto the arm of Dad’s chair. He takes a second to smile up at her and affectionately stroke her lower back. She drapes an arm around his shoulder.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” she asks me.
“Been sleeping great, Ma.”
“And eating?”
“Eating great,” I tell her. “Lots of veggies,” I throw in snarkily.
She gives me a doubtful look. She knows me too well.
“Iris has a vegetable patch.” I laugh.“The USDA would be so proud of me with how many servings of leafy greens I’ve been eating every day.”
Ma settles in her own seat. She picks up a clean plate and serves herself a slice. “So, Iris Merlini, huh?”
Here we go…
“I heard she’s single.” My mother keeps her eyes on her pie, trying to adopt a casual tone. But I’m not falling for the innocent act.
“She’s the ex-wife of my best friend from college.” My parents have met Kirk and they know he married Iris.
Ma hops a little in her seat, instantly
