Page 35 of Trash Talk

Chapter 22

Knox- Present Day

Incoming call: Brit. I send it to voicemail. I really only text anymore; she knows that. I’ve always hated talking on the phone. The only person I don’t mind it with is Ruby. She’s the only one I’ve never minded with. Besides, I’m not exactly in a position to chat right now. Gramps has me under his 1969 International Scout, changing the oil. This old truck’s a beauty. Bahama blue with an ivory canvas soft top. Tan leather bucket seats up front with a bench seat in the back that folds into a bed. I was practically in love with her before she was restored, now she’s a teenage dream. I’d like to get Ruby in the back, take off the top and sit out under a blanket of stars. Perfect date night.

Maybe I can talk Gramps into letting me take her out. I’d like to show Ruby my new tattoo. Beau just finished the piece on my leg. I look down at the thick black bands encircling my upper right calf, just under my knee. A thin red band between them. It hurt like a bitch, but it looks badass. In my mother’s culture, rings around joints represent union, and leg tattoos symbolize moving forward, progress. Something I finally have with Ruby. She’s my future. Her signature shade (ruby red) has been incorporated into a lot of my tattoos. See, I had faith we’d be together long before we were, and I have faith we’ll stay together now. I hope she loves it as much as I do.

Beau, a burly ass looking biker does all my work. He surrounds himself with quality people and has some incredibly talented artists in his shop, but he’s the only one I trust to ink my skin. Beau looks scary as shit (they all look scary actually), but he’s probably the most mellow person I’ve ever met. Looks can be deceiving. I took Ruby to my consultation for this tat. She waited in the lobby where the other artists ate her up. Loved her spunk. I’m not sure I’d trust any of them to touch her after the way they eyed her virgin skin. She didn’t know what I was getting, but I dared her to get one with me. It’s the first dare she’s passed up. She said her mom would kill her. She’s probably right. Faith Kendall has something to say about all my ink every time I see her. Even though she always makes sure to tell me what a nice boy I am. Even though I’m thirty.

My phone buzzes. It’s Brit: Need to talk asap. Huh, I wonder if she’s finally going to agree to the DNA test. The doctor assured me it was a safe procedure, and I really don’t want to wait another three months to find out. I pull up the screen to message her back and notice a text from yesterday. One I did not send. It had to have been Ruby. What is she up to? Assuming, she met her at 2:00, and it’s almost 3:00 now, Brit must’ve left and texted me soon after. I’m curious what’s so important that Ruby needed to talk to her about, and why Brit seems anxious to speak to me now.

I finish up changing the oil and holler at Gramps through the kitchen door, “I gotta get goin’ old man. I’ll swing by and cut the grass this Sunday.”

“I already cut the grass.” I peer through the window; it looks fairly high; I need to get over here more often. I notice our neighbor’s grass has been recently cut though.

“I can’t tell,” I smile at him as he limps into the kitchen. He doesn’t move as well as he used to, but he still gets around. “Maybe you mistook your yard for your neighbor lady’s.”

He looks sheepish for about two seconds before he chuffs me on the shoulder. “You think just ‘cause you’re grown, you can give me hell, boy? Besides, Faith doesn’t have time to cut her lawn. She works too hard. Passed that trait along, didn’t she?” She sure as hell did. And not just to Ruby. Becks and MB are busy little bees as well.

“Don’t take on more than you can handle. I’m here to help.”

“I know, Knox. You’re a good boy. I appreciate you coming over. You tell Miss Ruby I said hello. And both of you need to come by for dinner one night this week.”

“Yes, sir,” I lean in for a hug. His body isn’t as strong or as tall as it was a few years ago. I mean, he’s in his early eighties. I just hate to see him look so frail. This is the man that taught me how to adult. How to pour a beer, change a tire, make food, do the dishes and laundry, balance a checkbook, treat people with kindness and respect, work hard, stay positive. He was the perfect role model. And I’m so thankful I had him to guide me after I lost my parents. I'm thankful I still have him.

“Love you Gramps. See you Sunday.”

I just received a text from Brit, saying she’s on her way when Ruby flies through my front door, clearly flustered. She doesn’t even bother knocking anymore (not like she needs to; she has a key). I can tell she’s got something on her mind. Whether or not she’s ready to talk about it is anyone’s guess. I’ll just dive right in.

“So, you had lunch with Brit today?” I ask, because I want her to know, I know. And I’ve realized it’s quicker to head Ruby off at the pass. She embellishes when she’s nervous, and Brit will be here soon; I don’t have time for it. I’m not mad that she invaded my privacy or that she impersonated me to get a meeting with Brit today. I’m upset that she didn’t tell me. That she planned something (something that clearly involves me— she would never voluntarily talk to Brit otherwise) and didn’t loop me in. Like she doesn’t trust me. And that’s just not going to work. We’re in this together now. I need to know what she knows. She at least has the good sense to look apologetic.

“Okay. So, don’t be mad. I had lunch with HK yesterday and she told me some interesting things about a conversation she overheard at her uncle’s clinic.” She sighs loudly, and I wait for her to continue. What does Brit have to do with the vet office? She doesn’t even have a pet. “Well, Jess works there, and she was talking with Brit about some things. Things I wanted to confront her about today. So, I borrowed your phone, sorry, and set up a meet. Long story short, I gave her the option of telling you herself, or I could tell you. I gave her until tonight. I’m guessing she’s already contacted you,” she waits, and I nod, “then she’s made her decision.” I’m no closer to knowing what the fuck is going on now, than I was five minutes ago.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Shorty. What does she need to talk to me about?”

“A few things. I feel like I should let her tell you; it’s her story. And I might know what happened, but I don’t know why. So, I think in order to get all the answers you deserve, I’m just going to let her tell you. But because I love you, and I want you to be prepared, I’ll tell you that it has to deal with her pregnancies.”

There’s a knock; I guess Brit’s early. Wait; did Ruby just say pregnancies? As in more than one. What the fuck is going on? I see Ruby dash behind the half wall separating my bedroom from the rest of the space. “I’m gonna hide back here,” she whispers. “I don’t think she'd appreciate me listening in. I’m just here for backup.” Okay. It’s adorable that she thinks I need backup, but I do kind of love that she’s protective of me. It’s sweet. Something few people could accuse Ruby of being. I guess no one really knows her as well as I do. I open the door and look down at a terrified Brit. In all my years of knowing her, I’ve only seen her scared a handful of times.

“We need to talk. Can I come in?” I open the door wide and wave her inside.

“Knox; I just want you to know how sorry I am about everything.”

“What are you sorry for Brit? What in the hell is going on?”

“Please just let me say everything. Can you just not interrupt until I’m done? I want to get everything out before you ask any questions.” I nod and wait.

“Shit. Can I have something to drink? Water or something?” I walk to the kitchen and grab the water pitcher from the fridge and pour her a glass. She gulps it down before she starts talking again.

“Thank you. All right. The baby wasn’t yours.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Please, Knox. Let me finish.”

“Right, sorry. Continue.”

“Okay, so you know how I used to worked for Mr. Kohl?” I nod, so she’ll keep going. She used to be a paralegal in my dad’s attorney’s office. “Well, I was there that day that you came in. Mr. Kohl had asked me to take notes from my desk on his meetings that morning. My speaker was still on. I wasn’t meant to listen in. And I almost turned it off, but I was curious. And I kind of overheard y’all discussing your parent’s wills.” She takes another gulp from her glass.

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