Page 101 of Flaunt
I’ve never been excited for an event that required a tie. Actually, I’ve avoided many events that called for me to dress up. It’s just not my thing. But it’s my thing if Sara wants me to.
I’m beginning to feel like a wimp.This is what Jess must feel like. But the more time I spend with Sara, the more I want with her.
Sara laughs at my jokes. She plays along with my antics. She doesn’t always understand what or why I do what I do, but she doesn’t try to change me. She just accepts that a carburetor might be on the table or my boots might be in the sink.
I’m already regretting the day she’ll move out.
“Did you order printer cartridges?” she asks as we go down the hallway.
“They came already? That was fast. My printer at work was on its last shot of ink.”
“Why didn’t you ship them to your office?”
“Because Tasha is onvacation,” I say, snarling at the word I’ve come to hate. “I don’t know where to put them. She’ll just come back and be mad that nothing is where it should be. So I’m trying very hard not to touch a damn thing while she’s gone.”
I’ll take the printer cartridges with me and put them in the printer tomorrow. That way, I won’t get in trouble from Tasha for not knowing where she keeps the office supplies or for messing with her systems. Win-win.
She flips on a light in her bedroom and opens Dad’s closet.
“By the way, your new Amazon password was an easy guess,” I say. “Ryderisacutie4 was one I try every time I’m guessing. Try harder.”
She shakes her head. “Do you want a matte black or something with a little shine?”
“Are you going to follow this up with a Sparkle joke?”
She laughs. “No, but dammit. I should’ve.”
“Matte back. I don’t want to sparkle too much and take the attention away from Sara.”
Mom comes out of the closet with a tie over her arm and a smile on her face. “You’re such a sweetie.”
“I know.” I kiss her cheek. “Thanks for this.”
“Do you have a jacket? Shoes?”
I nod. “I have a suit. It’s just that my ties are yellow, lavender, and a stripey one that I hate. None of those go with red.”
“No, they don’t. But this one will look great.” She hands it to me. “Do you want me to come over and take pictures?”
“This is not a school dance, Mother.”
“Don’t you want a picture to preserve the moment? Don’t you want to remember it?”
I smirk. “What you mean is that you want to remember it, because I promise you that this evening will be permanently etched in my mind.”
We start to go back to the kitchen when something outside the window catches my attention. I walk over to the glass and burst out laughing.
“What?” Mom asks.
Jess is attaching some kind of mesh around wooden posts that form what I think is the chicken run. He has a pencil over his ear and a measuring tape on his hip. He pauses and bends down, helping one of the baby chicks get out of a bowl.He’s smiling, his lips moving like he’s talking to a baby.Is he cooing to a chicken? This is gold.
“Look at Chicken Daddy out there.” I lift the window open. “Jess,you are the chicken father!”
He flies me the middle finger.
I shut the window and meet Mom in the kitchen.
“So no to pictures?” Mom asks.
