Page 72 of Me Three
Twenty-Two
Everett
5 Months Later
“Here, take this outside. And don’t let Macy or Rory touch it. And none for Jack. It’s got nuts in it,” Ruth says, handing the blueberry pie to Carter.
“That’s what they said.” Carter chuckles, and Ruth flicks a tea towel at his butt.
“Cheeky fuck,” she calls at him, but he ignores her.
“Mrs. Walker, what can I help with?” Tru asks Carter’s mom.
“You, my darling, are a guest, so you can help me by calling me Ruth and going out and enjoying yourself,” she replies to him. “Besides,” she adds and comes to give me a hug, patting my chest. “That’s what I got him for.”
Tru, in typical Tru fashion, puts their hands on their hips and shakes their head.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t be the only one not helping out,” they say.
“I mean it,” she says and looks behind Tru and into the backyard. “Okay. Changed my mind. You can help me. You can help me bygoingoutrightnowandstoppingJackfromeatingthatpie.” The more she talks, the faster and pitchier she gets until she’s run out of breath, and Tru jumps to action, literally legging it outside to stop Carter’s younger cousin just as he’s about to take a bite.
“I swear to God, this kid is going to give me a heart attack,” she says, clutching her stomach.
“He’s fine, see? Tru got to him,” I say.
“I meant Carter,” she laughs. “He only listens to half the things I say.”
I roll my eyes and laugh with her.
“Yeah, well, that’s Carter,” I say.
Ruth smiles at me and squeezes my face in her hands.
“I’m so happy for you three,” she says. “And if I’d known you two loved each other, I would have whooped your asses into shape a long time ago.”
I chuckle.
“Well, we wouldn’t have Tru that way,” I say, and she nods.
“He is the cutest,” she says. I correct her use of pronouns. “Oh crap. Sorry. You’re right. It will take some getting used to, I’ll admit,” she says.
“But you won’t treat them any different?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Of course not.”
“Then you’re good, Ruth. Which is why we love you so much. And the fact you accepted our three-way relationship makes you even more amazing,” I tell her and hug her around the waist.
“Honestly,” she says when we pull away and she walks over to the fridge, “I don’t know how you kids do it. I couldn’t manage one man. Let alone two.” She pauses with a tray of ice pops in red, white, and blue and grimaces. “You know what I mean. Relationships are hard. I’m in awe of how you make it work with three of you.”
“Well, Ruth, I’m not going to lie to you. The sex makes it easier,” I say, and the laughter rolls out of me in bounds when she goggles her eyes and slaps my arms.
“Carter is a bad influence on you, have I ever told you that?”
“You mean your son is a bad influence on me? Does that make you abadmom?”
“Oh, I’m the worst.” She chuckles. “Here. Take these out before they melt.”
I grab the tray from her and start walking out, but I remember her question and stop dead on my tracks.
