Page 31 of Without Me (Men of Inked 5)
Ruth turned and smacked him on the arm. “It’s Anthony, Earl. I told you about him.”
“Who?” he asked as he came closer and squinted.
“Get those damn glasses fixed. It’s Anthony!” she yelled in his ear.
“I’m not deaf, woman. I’m blind. Why are you yelling at me?”
“You ol’ coot. I told you Max’s boyfriend was coming over.” She looked at me with a weak smile.
“But this here is a white man,” Earl said as he looked me up and down.
“Not so blind now, are ya?” Ruth asked before she snorted.
“Does it matter, Uncle Earl?” Max asked as she walked next to me and hooked her arm with mine.
He shook his head as his brow furrowed. “Suppose it doesn’t, Max.”
“Good answer,” Ruth said.
“Son, I’m not racist. No one told me you were white.”
I felt a bit uneasy, but I chalked it up to his age. “It’s okay, sir.”
“Sir?” he asked, and smiled. “I like this boy already.”
“I’m sorry,” Max whispered, gripping my forearm tighter.
This was her family and I’d love them no matter what. I had some uncles that often spoke their mind too. I thought it was an age thing. People became freer with their words as they grew older. They didn’t worry as much about offending anyone—or at least it seemed like it.
“Maybe if you’d get a damn hearing aid, you would’ve heard your sister say he was a white boy so you wouldn’t act like an idiot like you are now, Earl,” an older woman teased him as she walked up behind him. “I’m Clara, Earl’s wife.”
Earl rolled his eyes in much the same fashion Max always did. “Maybe I just don’t want to hear what you have to say.”
Clara smacked him on the back of the hand as Earl snickered. “Anthony, it’s nice to meet you. Don’t mind my husband. He’s not entirely with it anymore.” She smiled, and it was so warm and genuine that I couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“Go make me a sandwich, woman!” Earl demanded as he pursed his lips. “Don’t fawn over the boy.”
“He’s not a boy, Earl. That right there is a man.” Clara’s smiled changed, moving from sweet to flirty.
I cleared my throat, feeling the heat creep up my neck before filling my cheeks. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want to seem like an idiot.
“You have yourself a man. I don’t have me a sandwich.”
“Earl,” she said as she put her hands on her hips.
“Why don’t you go introduce him to everyone else, baby, before you help me finish dinner,” Ruth said.
“It’s not ready?” Max asked before we walked away.
“Saved a few things for us to do together. When you’re ready, Anthony can stay out here and get to know the family better.”
“Do not leave me out here,” I whispered to Max as I pulled her closer to me.
“You’ll be okay,” she said as she pulled me toward a large group sitting at a picnic table.
“Max, please. I’ll come cook.”
“You know you can’t cook, and it’s girls only in my mama’s kitchen.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. It was like being at my mother’s. Men weren’t welcome to help prepare the food. I’d always been okay with that. It was less work for me, but at Ruth’s, I wanted to run away and hide in the kitchen with Max instead of being left outside with strangers.
Max introduced me to her uncles and cousins, and I knew I’d never remember their names. Six men sat at the table, sipping their beers and looking at me with curiosity. Denzel stood at the opposite end of the table with a giant smile on his face. He seemed to sense my uneasiness and took pleasure in it.
“Guys, can you take care of Anthony while I go inside and help Mama finish up?” Max asked.
I stared at her, pleading for her to take me with her using only my eyes. My stomach knotted, and a nervous sweat broke out across my forehead.
“Sure, Max,” Uncle Bob replied, shooing her with his hands. “We got him.”
“I’m sure you do. Go easy on him, boys.” Max took a step. “Malia and Nita, are you coming?” she asked, looking over at Nita and Malia, who were watching with big, sappy grins.
“Nah, we’re good,” Malia replied as she started to sit in an empty chair.
“Get your asses up. Let the guys have some time together,” Max shot back at Malia, waving for her and Nita to follow.
I grabbed her hand, stopping her. “I can cook. Let me show you.”
“No,” she replied before standing on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. “You stay out here and get to know everyone.”
My mouth felt dry and scratchy as I tried to swallow. I’d rather cook than deal with her family.
“You’re such a bossy bitch,” Nita said to Max as they walked away.
“Anthony, want a beer?” someone asked as I watched Max sashay toward the house.
“Sure,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment before turning. “I’d love one.”
Bob reached in the cooler, pulled out a Coors Light, and held it out to me. I snatched the beer and refrained from holding it to my head to cool myself down.
“Want to sit down?” Denzel asked as he grabbed a lawn chair from under the tree.
“Sure,” I said, because I thought maybe, if I were at eye level, I wouldn’t feel like everyone was staring at me.
“Tell us about yourself,” the man she’d called Junior asked.
I cracked the beer open and took a large gulp before I answered. “I’m a tattoo artist.”
“That tells me what you do, son, but I want to know who you are.”
The question threw me for a loop. I’d always described myself with my work. I didn’t have anything else to really say about myself that most people were truly interested in hearing.
“Tell us about your family,” Bob said.
Clearly, I hadn’t hid the fact that his question had confused me. “I have a large Italian family with three brothers and a sister. We own a tattoo shop together.”
“Parents still together?” Earl asked as he plopped down in a lawn chair next to me.
“Yes, sir. They are.”
“How often do you see them?”
“Every week. My mother has dinner for the family on Sunday.”
“So, family is important to you?” Bob asked as he rubbed his chin and studied me.
“Yes, very.”
“Good answer. Max said she met you at a bar after you played a concert. Are you one of those crazy rock stars?”
“No. I just like to sing with my band on the weekends. It’s more of a hobby.” I toyed with the beer can. “My real passion is tattooing.”
“Do you do drugs? I’ve heard those rock stars do a lot of drugs,” Earl said.
“Yeah. And they have girls falling all over them,” Bob added.
“That’s not true,” I lied. I wasn’t into drugs, but the girls, they were real. “And no, I don’t do drugs.”
“I watched that Behind the Music on VH1 and I know how
musicians are,” Earl added as he ran his hands over his plaid pants.
Even though Earl was being difficult, I liked the man. He was funny and said the craziest shit.
“I can assure you that I haven’t hit that status.”
“If I were younger, I’d be a musician. They get all the women,” Bob said as he tossed his beer can into a trashcan a few feet away. “Denzel, why don’t you be a musician?”
Denzel blanched. “Uncle, you know I want nothing to do with music. I love my work, plus I have Brenda. I don’t need other women.” He grabbed two beers from the cooler and threw one toward Bob, who caught it.
“Son, it’s always good to have options.” Bob cracked open his beer, took a long sip, and sighed. “This is the life.”
“I’m a one-woman man, uncle,” Denzel said before he chugged the rest of his beer.
“I like the girl,” Earl said. “But she has a flat ass. I don’t trust any woman that doesn’t have an ass to hold.”
Denzel started to spit out his beer. “You must be shitting me.”
Earl shook his head. “That’s why I picked my Clara. Her ass was so round.” He held out his hands, pretending to be grabbing an ass and squeezing. “I knew I was in love.”
“What the hell does that have to do with trust?” Denzel snapped at his uncle as he gawked at him squeezing the air.
“It’s like that song. I like big butts and I cannot lie.”
“You make no fuckin’ sense, old man.” Denzel laughed, throwing an empty beer can toward his uncle, and it landed in his lap.
I couldn’t help but laugh. This was one of the oddest conversations I’d heard in a while.
