Page 22 of Nuts

Dinner at Smokey’s house was always entertaining, but sometimes it was more so for others, and not so much for me. I took a drink of my beer, all the while glaring at Eddie over the top of the bottle.

She was Smokey’s seventeen-year-old daughter. Based on her attitude and intellect, a blind man would guess her age at no less than thirty. I loved her as if she were my own daughter, but she was often a thorn in my side.

“It’s a simple question.” She poked a piece of steak with her fork, paused, and raised both eyebrows. “One you should be able to answer easily, regardless of what your response might be. That is, unless you’re embarrassed.”

I took another drink and shot her a glare.

“We’re all family here, P-Nut,” she said. “I was just wondering.”

I glanced at Smokey, shook my head, and then looked at Eddie. “At what point in time did you become so enthralled in my relationship status?”

She lowered her fork to her plate and crossed her arms. “We’re answering questions with questions, are we?”

It was a trademark move of mine. Telling a lie was out of the question, but stretching the truth to its limits – or diverting the line of questioning with a question – was something I did with regularity.

I nodded toward her. “You just did.”

“Stop acting like you’re in high school,” she said.

“Stop acting like your’re thirty-five fucking years old.”

She cocked an eyebrow and shot me the stink eye. “P-Nut!”

Shit.

I’d done the unthinkable. Cussing in her house wasn’t allowed. Neither was smoking. Or farting. Or acting like a biker in any respect. Discussions of sex, fighting, casual blowjobs, or the size of a waitress’ tits were things Smokey and I were forced to enjoy in her absence.

She damned sure didn’t need to yell at me, but she did every time she got an opportunity. I knew I’d fucked up as soon as the f-bomb fell out of my mouth. Transforming into a respectable human being each time I crossed the threshold of Smokey’s door didn’t come easy, but it was something I’d been working on since Eddie was a pre-teen.

“Do we cuss in this house?” she asked.

I tilted my bottle of beer toward her. “My apologies. It slipped out.”

“Answer my question.”

“About cussing in the house, or the other one?”

A sigh shot from her lungs. “The other one.”

“Yes.”

She glared at me. “Yes?”

“You said are we answering questions with questions. My response is yes.”

“My question was when are you going to settle down and get a girlfriend? Look around you. Crip? He’s got one. Pee Bee? He does, too. Cholo? Check. Dad? Check. Everyone’s growing up but you.”

I didn’t respond, at least not immediately. Being pinned down to one woman wasn’t something I felt could ever work. At least not for me. I wouldn’t change for anyone, and finding someone who would accept me as I was would be impossible. Finding a woman who would satisfy me beyond the bedroom would be equally impossible.

“Being single suits me just fine.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

I glanced at Smokey, his Ol’ Lady, Sandy, and then at Eddie. “Can I eat my steak?”

“I just want you to be happy,” she said.

“I am happy.”