“I’m all right,” he said after he recovered. “Just a little dizzy spell.”
After Rodney helped Karen clean up, she announced she’d go out in the motorboat to wash some clothes.
“Can you come and help?” she asked Rodney.
“Absolutely,” he replied, glad to feel useful.
“Can I come, too?” Timothy asked.
“Not this time, baby,” she said. “Stay with your grandpa.”
Rodney could tell by the look in her eyes she planned to talk to him privately. Probably about Bubba’s health. Regardless, he wouldn’t have turned down a chance to get clean. With only one pair of pants, he had to wash them often. Thankfully, Karen had bought him a tank top, a pair of flip-flops, and a pack of briefs at a local dollar store.
When they reached the spot, Rodney could see why she’d chosen it. The water was clearer.
“I use homemade soap to wash them because it’s better for the environment than laundry detergent.” She snickered. “Cheaper, too.”
He helped her by rinsing and wringing out the garments after she scrubbed them. “You’re worried about your father, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, these spells of his are getting worse. Did he tell you about his heart condition?”
Rodney nodded. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“You’ve helped keep his mind off himself. Just make sure he doesn’t overexert.”
“Will do.” He watched the water drip from his hands. “How long does he have? Do you know?”
“With surgery, many years,” she replied. “But without it, maybe a year, and that’s if we’re really lucky.”
Although her voice broke, she took charge of the laundry with military efficiency.
“Now, let’s wash ourselves and our hair,” she declared, handing him a piece of soap.
“Well, all right!” After taking a sponge bath day after day, the expanse of water looked better than a hot shower.
A twinge gripped his chest as he thought of Dee.
Karen helped him out of the boat. His eyebrows shot up when she stripped down to her underwear. She was undoubtedly attractive, curving in all the right places, but she wasn’t Dee. Needing to get clean, he took off everything except his briefs, but he kept his back to her.
She gripped his shoulder with a warm hand. “You don’t need to be so shy. I have been with a man before.”
“Timothy’s father?” he asked, stumbling clockwise to face her while he lathered up his hair.
“Deserves to be an alligator’s meal. But you,” she said softly as she pressed herself up against him. “I’m real glad you dropped into our lives.”
He should have seen it coming, but her kiss still caught him off guard. So did her hand, which slipped down to his briefs and grabbed his dick.
Oh, Dee… Why don’t your lips taste like honey anymore?
“K-karen,” he sputtered as he gripped her shoulders and pushed away from her. “We can’t. I’m sorry, but we just…can’t.”
She frowned. “Why not? I’m not pretty enough? Or, you don’t mess with black women?”
“You’re beautiful, and race has nothing to do with it,” he said, trying to catch his breath and footing at the same time.
He’d missed Dee with an ache in his soul every day since he’d broken up with her, but never as much as this moment. Being with a woman in a romantic setting. Being touched. They reminded him of her with an intensity more excruciating than the pain from his fractured ankle.
“Then it must be someone else. You married?”
“No, but you’re right,” he said, rinsing the soap from his hair. “There is someone.”
She snapped her fingers. “The same woman whose name you called out in your sleep, right?”
He nodded.
“Why don’t you go to her or call her, then?”
“It’s complicated and…in the past.”
“Whatever,” she said as she turned her back on him and scrubbed her own hair.
If not for Dee, he could live happily with this woman and her child. No wonder Karen acted disgusted with him. He’d placed himself in no-man’s land.
“Bubba tried to fix us up,” he said, “and I did make him a promise.”
She peered over her shoulder. “What kind of promise?”
“I’ll take care of you and Timothy the best I’m able after…after he’s gone.”
“Well, that sheds a different light on things.” She helped him back onto the boat and boarded, herself. “Let’s get back. I don’t like to leave Pop too long.”
Her smile, as they rode back, looked full of hope and assurance. That he’d, someday, get over Dee? Maybe she was right and his broken heart would heal along with his ankle. His new life here would sure be a lot simpler than his old one.
* * *
After the next concert, Jack laid a thin white line of coke on the dresser in his hotel room and snorted it up. Just a little cocktail before the real partying with the rest of the band. Hopefully, it would chase away the nagging aches in his ribs and shoulder. Pain had gripped him like a pit bull for most of the show, and his throat hurt from singing so much. The rougher it sounded, the more he had to gargle in his off time.
But, none of that pain-in-the-ass shit mattered. Everyone believed he was Rodney! Even with the bandages off his face. Of course, he kept part of his hair hanging over it and wore a bigger hat to blunt the spotlights.
He crashed onto the bed and gripped his erection. As usual, Linda had disappeared after the show. Wanting to keep her quiet about what she knew, he let her have her own room—at home and on the road. Reading the Bible, knitting, and whatever the hell else she did in her spare time, seemed to keep her happy. He’d even stopped fucking her. With Breeze’s new fame, the groupies were busting out of the woodwork, satisfying his every need.
In fact, one was due over here any minute. She looked around sixteen but swore she was eighteen. Well, who cared? He could only go by what they told him.
How nice not to have his big brother looking over his shoulder all the time, telling him he shouldn’t do this or
