Page 77 of The Fed Sex Man

“It’s ready if we’re ready,” my mother responded.

My brother cleared his throat. “I’m Jarod, the often-forgotten brother.”

My father turned around, bringing Tyson with him. “This is my son, Jarod. Hard to remember if he’s here or not. He’s never on time.”

Tyson shook his hand. “Get yourself another Cobra, and you’ll never be late.”

Jarod grinned. “Isn’t that the truth.”

“I’ll show you mine when we’re done eating.”

“Jo says it’s got a supercharger.”

“She’s right,” Tyson said. “I put a Kenne Bell two-point-eight Mammoth on it. Liquid cooled.”

Jarod’s eyes widened. “How many ponies is she pushing?”

“A thousand fifty on e85,” Tyson said, beaming with pride as he spoke. “About nine hundred on 93 octane.”

“Jesus jumped up Christ,” my father coughed. “That thing’s got a thousand horsepower?”

Tyson nodded. “It sure does.”

While the men walked to the dining room together, I stepped to my mother’s side. “Tyson and I are officially exclusive,” I whispered.

“What does that mean?” my mother whispered in return. “Official?”

I searched my mind for a term she’d understand. She was two generations behind me, at least. Only recently did she give way to the cell phone craze.

“We’re going steady,” I said.

She gasped a breath. “I’m so happy for you. He seems like such a nice man.”

“He’s slow to come out of his shell, but he is really nice.”

She let the men make it all the way to the dining room, and then stepped in front of me. “You’d be slow to come out of your shell, too, if you’d been through what he’s been through. You give him all the room he needs, Josephine. Men need time and space to figure things out. Don’t crowd him. Now, or ever, for that matter. All of what’s good comes from waiting.”

I was giddy with excitement about Tyson and I being official. If my mother recommended it, I was all for doing it. If anyone knew how to make a marriage last, it was her.

I nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She dusted her hands against her dress and gestured toward the kitchen. “You can help me with the food, Josephine. Let’s make Tyson feel like this home is just as much his as it is ours, shall we?”

I was so happy I could have screamed, but I smiled instead. “Tell me if I’m doing anything dumb, will you?”

“Just smile and nod at everything he says,” my mother offered. “I’ve been doing it with your father for almost fifty years, and it works wonders.”

If that’s all I had to do to keep Tyson happy, I’d look like one of those bobblehead dolls with a painted-on grin.