Page 55 of Love Undiscovered
This week Mom made pasta, a favorite of Audrey’s. Last time it was roast, my favorite. She switches off making the favorites of her kids and my pops, Brian. Soon, she’ll have to add grandkids to that schedule, and pretty soon my favorite will only be in rotation a few times a year. That thought makes me sad.
My pops, a detective like me until he retired last year, loves hearing about whatever case I’m working on. So, we sit on the back porch and discuss today’s crime scene as we wait for dinner. My sisters are in the kitchen helping my mom, and she sent Audrey’s husband, Mike, to the store for cream. Eliza’s husband, Nate, has the baby in the living room, so it’s just the two of us. I like both my brothers-in-law. I never would have let my sisters marry them if I hadn’t. But I like the time alone with my pops more.
I’m just finishing telling my dad what happened when Mom calls us in to dinner. We sit at the table and dish up. I’ve hardly taken a bite when Audrey starts in on me.
“So, Chancey,” she says with a grin, knowing I hate it when she calls me that. Only my ma can call me that. “One of my girlfriends saw you at The Chesterfield last night. She said you were pretty cozy with a gorgeous brunette. Do you have a girlfriend you haven’t told us about?”
“You have a girlfriend?” my mom asks, clapping her hands, her smile wide.
“Gafend, gafend!” my niece, Hailey, chants. Hudson barks his appreciation for Hailey’s chant.
“Busted,” Charlotte says, drawing out the word.
“That’s right,” Eliza coos to the baby. “Girlfriend. Good girl.”
“Well, that’s good news, son,” Dad says. “It’s about time you start thinking about settling down.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Mom says, her tone forlorn.
“I had a date.”
“A date is a good start,” Mom says. “What’s her name?”
“It was just one date, Ma,” I say.
“Hey, Audrey and I started with one date,” Mike says. “And now look at us.”
“Not helping, dude,” I say to Mike, and then to my mom, “Her name is Remi.”
“Remi,” my mom says. “That’s a pretty name. Is she ethnic?”
I look at my mom. “What do you mean, is she ethnic?”
“I’m just trying to guess at what my grandkids are going to look like,” she says.
“Ma!” I say.
“She has dark hair,” Audrey says. I glare at her. Which eggs her on. “And she’s really pretty. Kinda pin-up-ey.”
“What’s pin-up-ey?” Dad asks.
“You know,” Audrey says. “Like a pin-up girl. Those calendar girls from the fifties that guys would hang up in mechanic shops.”
“Nice,” Nate says, elongating the word. Eliza backhands him in the stomach.
“Ice, ice, da da,” Hailey chants.
“No, Hailey-girl,” Charlotte says. “It’sice ice, baby.”
“Ice, ice, baby, ice, ice, baby,” Hailey yells. And Hudson joins in once again, running in circles behind her highchair. He’s a smart dog, learning early on that anything that drops to the floor is fair game. And that the majority of the food that drops will come from Hailey. So you can usually find him camped out under her highchair.
“Dun dun dun du du du dun dun dun dun dun du du du dun. Stop, collaborate and listen,” Mike starts.
“Word to your mutha,” Charlotte joins in, with arms crossed over her chest and a chin nod, rapper style.
And on goes family dinner. It’s always total and complete chaos. And I love every minute of it.
