Page 87 of Famous Last Words
I arch a brow. “Night cap?”
She pushes up from her chair and holds her hand out for me. “Join me?”
Uncertainty washes over me because I really don’t know if Robbie would be happy with his mom drinking. But then, at the same time, Vicky is a grown, fifty-something woman.
“Wine, or something stronger?” I ask, hopping up and linking my arm with Vicky’s.
Rhonda lets out a howling laughter, and I glance sideways at Vicky.
“Oh, hon,” she says, patting my hand and leading me through the archway.
CHAPTER 34
ROBBIE
After an overtime win, I couldn’t say no to the guys when they asked me to go with them for drinks. I stayed for one beer I, of course, didn’t drink, and the second Dallas met a cute redhead, and Logan and Happy paired up with a pair of blondes, the puck bunnies started to circle me like a school of great whites, and I knew it was time to tap out.
By the time I make it home, it’s nearly midnight and, assuming everyone is in bed, I’m quiet as I make my way inside. But then, just as I’m removing my coat, I’m stopped by the distant sound of a shrill, cackling laughter coming from somewhere, and it sounds distinctly like my ma.
Confused, I allow the laughter to guide me through the front sitting room lit only by the flames left to burn out in the hearth. I continue through the kitchen, my brows knitting together as a Journey song starts to drown out the merriment. As I stop at the sliding glass door that opens to the back yard, my confusion piques at the sight of Ma, Fran, and Rhonda, seated on the lawn chairs surrounding the pit fire, all three of them singing horrendously off key and really fucking loud.What the hell?
I pull open the glassdoor and step out onto the landing, looking down at the trio who are yet to notice me. Then, my eyes zero in on something in my mother’s hand. Something smoking.Is that a fucking joint?
I make my way down the steps and cross the yard, stopping just shy of the group. Still going unnoticed, I watch on as Ma passes the joint to Fran who places it between her lips and tokes on it like a goddamn pro.
“Um, what’s going on?” I ask, raising my voice so I’m heard over the sound of “Don’t Stop Believing” blaring from Fran’s phone.
Instead of alarm, they all turn slowly, their gazes understandably dazed and hazy, grins lopsided. Thankfully Rhonda appears to be sober, standing from her chair and doing her best to hide her smile. But Fran and Ma simply look at one another, something passing between the two of them before they both start giggling uncontrollably.
I place my hands on my hips, eyes darting between the two, but it’s pointless. I turn to Rhonda because clearly she’s the only one here who might be able to offer an explanation.
“Your ma’s been in a bit of pain,” she says quietly, placing a hand on my arm. “Having trouble sleeping.” She indicates the weed currently being shared between Ma and Fran. “The doctor suggested marijuana, and it’s the only thing that helps.”
“How long’s this been going on for?” I ask, lowering my voice.
Rhonda smiles sadly. “A few weeks. She pleaded with me not to tell you, especially with everything you have going on.”
I press my lips together in a firm line, looking from Rhonda to Ma and Fran. I’m pissed because Rhonda should tell me everything about Ma; it’s her literal job. But the reasonable side of me gets it. The last thing Ma wants is for me to worry.
“Come sit, my sweet boy!” Ma waves me over, joint perched between her lips. She pats her lap, like I’m nine years old again and not a grown ass man.
“Ma, I will crush you,” I say with an eye roll, unable to hide my grin.
Instead, I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek before continuing to Fran. She smiles up at me, and I gently nudge her shoulder, indicating for her to get up. Dopily, she pushes herself up, and before she goes falling face first into the fire pit, I link my fingers into the waist of her jeans as I steal her seat, pulling her down onto my lap. When she cuddles into me all sleepy and soft and warm, I’ll be damned if I don’t feel my heart do another weird ass somersault in my chest.
“Have you ever smoked weed before?” I whisper in her ear, because I need to prepare myself with exactly how this night is going to go.
Ma smiles at me, glassy eyes reflecting the flames of the fire.
Fran bristles, glancing pointedly at me. “I’ll have you know, I was quite the rebel in college.” She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I can’t help but laugh. Fran Keller a rebel? I’d have loved to see that.
“I was!” She touches her chest indignantly before a smile blooms across her face. “Do you know I even had a—” her eyes flit side to side all devious-like as she leans and lowers her voice to a whisper, “a threesome with two guys at a frat party.” She holds up two fingers for emphasis.
My eyes go wide. She fucked two frat assholes? I’m suddenly overcome by a foreign feeling, possessiveness or jealousy, I can’t quite tell. Maybe both. I decide that’s enough for tonight and gently slap her thigh. “Time for bed. We gotta leave early in the morning.”
“Aw, but your ma and I were just tradingstories…” she says in a teasing tone. “Who knew you liked to tuck your penis and pretend to be a girl?” She jabs me in my chest.
Ma bursts out laughing, and I throw my head back on a groan. “Yeah, when I was like six.”
