Page 53

A breeze blew over the back porch; it was just enough to make the afternoon sun tolerable. Oakland and Eric were sitting under a tree near the far corner of the yard. I sighed watching them, two boys with two lost fathers. It pained me to know how their bond had thickened, and yet, I was glad they had each other.

It’d been a few weeks since the funeral, and he seemed to be adjusting as well as a boy his age could. He’d returned to school and came out every few days to stow away with Oakland.

“They’re fine, let them alone for a while,” Cole murmured against my neck, his hand coming to rest on my hip.

I nodded, taking his hand in mine and turned to follow him inside.

“I know you didn’t feel right going to Chef’s parting party, and that’s okay.” He held one hand up as if he anticipated upset, “But, they wanted to have a coming home party for Vick, I figured if there were a perfect time for you to be introduced…”

“It’d be at my son’s welcome home from the big house party, which is to be thrown by the outlaw organization he’s chosen to affiliate himself with? Is that the party you’re inviting me to, Mr. Henshaw? The perfect place to give my pageant wave, is it?” I playfully folded my arms over my chest.

I’d learned to tolerate a few of them, as they saw us in public and ventured toward us over the past few weeks.

“When?” I relented.

He broke out in a big smile, and stepped in close until his forehead touched mine, “Tonight. The Winehopper girl can stay with them a few hours, don’t you think?”

I snorted and side-eyed him, “Let me guess, you already asked her?”

“Well, not her… I asked her granny if we could borrow her,”

I snatched a kitchen towel off the oven handle and flung it at him, “Cole!”

“What?” He laughed.

“She is a young lady, you can’t ask her grandfolk to lend her to you. She isn’t some indentured thing.”

His deep rumble of laughter made me smile, despite my seriousness.

“Alright, alright. I’ll drive over there and ask her formal like.” He sighed.

“What?” I squinted, “It’s a babysitting occasion, not a prom. I’ll call.”

“Right.” He nodded, seeming somewhat relieved.

The door opened behind us and Oakland scampered past. Eric was right behind him, until he saw how close Cole and I were standing. He slowed to a stop in front of us and stared up at Cole with a grin.

“Is she your ol’ lady then?” he asked, his voice carrying a lilt that said he’d figured something scandalous out.

“His what?” I asked, without realizing I was leaning toward the boy.

I’d liked him up until he became such a bold, little thing.

Old Lady.

“I’ll have you know I’m only–”

Cole attempted to wrap his hand around my mouth, and I didn’t hesitate to grasp his wrist in an effort to fling it away.

“Yes,” he answered for me, causing that ‘mama’ gaze of mine to swing toward him. “It’s a term. Like a girlfriend, only more serious.”

I stopped fighting and stared at him.

“Well,” Oakland piped up, “Are you, Mama? Are you his ol’ lady.”

“Yes, she is,” Cole responded, his hand never leaving my mouth.

I sighed against it, and closed my eyes. I wasn’t fond of the term, but there wasn’t any denying it, either. Not as far as Cole was concerned.