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Matt raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. “Rakell?”
“I just, well, I, I don’t know. I hope someone good like you will take it on…I just don’t want it to be you.”
“Then who?” Matt dropped the question amid Jonathon and Rakell’s furtive glances. Neither answered.
They pulled up to Jake’s parents’ house. parking along the gravel ranch road because the half-moon-shaped driveway was full. Rakell could feel that the place was already bustling, and they hadn’t seen a soul yet. The door burst open with the gusto one would expect from a gaggle of fraternity guys let loose on a spring break beach. A tiny, red-headed fella running pell-mell emerged, with arms ahead of him as he yelled, “An-K, An-K.” Rakell quickly offloaded the bag with mac n cheese and the secret stash of chicken nuggets she’d brought for the little guy whirling toward her. She bent to her knee as Cameron ran into her arms at full bore. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her as his nephew began rubbing the top of his head against her upper chest, almost like a horse scratching his neck against a post. Rakell knew that he was asking her to massage the top of his head—this was Cameron’s ‘love language,’ which she was happy to do.
She heard Jake say, “I can’t believe he went to you over me. When did I become Uncle What’s His Name? I mean, it’s the decision I would have made, but Cameron has always been on Team Jake.” After a minute, Jake cleared his throat and said, “Hey, dude, number fifteen.” Cameron crested his neck in Jake’s direction, his eyes widening as if he had just noticed his uncle for the first time. Jake returned the bag to Rakell, sweeping his nephew into his arms. Rakell smiled at the sight of little limbs clutched around Jake like a monkey as he carried Cameron into the house, yelling, “Fifteen, fifteen,” repeatedly.
When they entered, Melissa said, “I couldn’t stop him. He was out the door in a flash once he saw you two. Rakell, you’ve been his hero since Tuesday when you picked him up from the torturous Thanksgiving celebration. Thank you again.”
“It was nice to spend some time with him, just us…” Rakell said, catching Jake’s heavy gaze on her, a warm smile blanketing his face as he lowered his nephew. She shifted her eyes from him back to Melissa, scrunching her nose. “And that Thanksgiving celebration was torturous. Everyone was running amok. It was a cacophony of noise spraying off the walls as kids danced around in Pilgrim or Indian costumes. The whole thing was low-level disturbing.” She shook her head, ignoring Jake’s chuckle. “I’m serious. I think adults without sensory issues would have a problem there. It’s interesting that as grownups, we can choose our experiences, like going to a concert, attending a wild party, running at the lake, or between dinner in or out… but kids don’t get to do that. We assume that a party with all the noise, colors, and other maniacal kids will be fun for all of them…”
Jenae and Winnie stepped into the kitchen when they heard Rakell talking. Jenae threw her arms out and hugged Jake, saying, “We were so happy when we heard you and Dwayne were going to make it to Thanksgiving—dare I say it—before the Super Bowl.” Then, turning to Rakell with her arms fully outstretched, she added, “And, we were even happier when we heard you were coming.”
“Matt said he and Jonathan had a great time with you and Winnie in New York. Jonathan mentioned that your townhome was ‘appealing to the artist’s eye,’” Rakell said, making air quotes and pitching her voice, mocking Jonathan.
Winnie shook her head. “Ironically, that artist’s eye cost us thousands of dollars.”
Jake nodded. “I need to have him look at my house.”
His mom laughed softly before saying, “Jake, you’re ahead of most of the Skyler men since you don’t have dead animals on any of your walls.”
Uncle Joe obviously heard Annette from the other room and called out, “I don’t think I have enough dead animals on my walls. I have killed so many more that have never made it to a wall.”
Jake seemed unable to resist saying, “As a fashion-forward Texan, I prefer wearing my animals to hanging them as decorations—notice the custom-made square-toed black Lucchese boots.”
As Jake was finishing, Dwayne entered the kitchen, sporting his classic impish, ‘I’m up to something’ grin. Rakell was anxious to hear his retort to Jake bragging about his boots made from some exotic animal.
“Notice the blah-blah crocodile boot customized to my beautiful athletic foot, blah, blah, blah…”
Jake whipped around, grumbling under his breath, though just loud enough for the kitchen crowd to hear. “They are alligator, asshole.”
“Jake Anthony Skyler,” Annette barked out, her eyes skipping across the room to David’s mom, Jake’s grandma.
“Sorry,” Jake said, offering his grandma a sheepish smile.
She was the carrier of those piercing blue eyes, Rakell thought as she watched his grandma wave her hand as if to say, ‘No worries.’ “I didn’t hear what you said, Jake. I was coming in here to give the Bradshaw crew hugs. Georgia, I can’t wait to have more of that sausage stuffing. I’ve been thinking about it since last year.”
It struck Rakell again how the women in Jake’s life made a circle around him, keeping him in line while forgiving his transgressions. Or was that just what family does? It was hard to make the comparison to Matt’s family because there was a formality to them that the Skylers didn’t embody, and Matt was so different from Jake. Sure, they’d both grown up in Texas, riding horses and loving football, but Matt always felt like an outsider and never publicly stepped out of line. Jake was infused with the idea that he was a guy, and guys make mistakes; that’s just how it is. Was it because Matt didn’t feel like he had the same wiggle room as Jake? Even if Matt’s family were uber-wealthy, everything they did, everything they wore, and whom they loved made its way to the news. Jake had only just started to experience that level of notoriety. The Waterman family was generations in the making.
Dwayne put his fingers to his chest like a chastised artist, looking to the room since it was obvious that he had the floor. “Oh, pardon me, most noted Texan fashion king, they are made from alligators,” he said as if schooling the folks gathered around the kitchen.
Dwayne whispered in Jake’s ear, “The fact that you know the difference is sad.”
Rakell snickered, looking down at Jake’s boots.
Joe bellowed again from the other room, “I only have five percent of my trophy kills on the wall.”
Annette shouted back, “Okay, Joe,” rolling her eyes toward Rakell and Jenae. Shifting her attention to Jake, she pointed toward the back door. “You guys go put your stuff out in the party barn. Also, Jake, there’s someone out there who has been Cameron's best friend, and she needs her ears scratched. She hasn’t seen you in so long.”
“Dolly!” Jake said excitedly, twisting one foot toward the sliding glass doors.
Rakell watched Annette turn to Dwayne’s mom, who had followed her son into the kitchen, her hands open wide. “Georgia, I need a hug.”
“Thanks for letting us invade on your family event.”
“Georgia, you are family. The kind you choose,” Annette said with finality.
