Page 13 of Baring it All (Men in Charge)

“Stormy, what your mom is trying to say is this. Live your life to the fullest. You’re going to experience heartbreak, embarrassment, and all kinds of things in between,” Aunt Cat says.

“You can say that again, well, minus heartbreak. When I found out Zach was with Mel all I felt was relief.” God, that feels good to admit to others besides myself.

“You dodged a bullet,” Mom interjects. We laugh for a minute, and my nerves calm down that the two of them would think I was making a massive mistake.

“Back to the point at hand. If I were twenty years younger, honey, and a man like Griff was willing to give it his all, plus unlimited orgasms, I wouldn’t be walking, I’d be running toward him.” Aunt Cat’s theatrics always crack me up. Even right now, she has a straight face, so I know she’s not kidding, but with her yellow gloves, hair scarf, and all white clothes, it’s kind of hard to ever take her seriously. I’m kind of shocked she didn’t come wearing a hazmat suit given the fact cleanliness is most definitely next to Godliness in her eyes.

“Shut up, Cat. No one wants to hear about orgasms from you, or my daughter receiving them.” Mom points her finger at her sister. “Let me ask you a question.” She unpacks one of the boxes that needs to go to Griff’s. I couldn’t close the box, and I didn’t want what is inside to get ruined.

“Mom, we’re supposed to be moving out, not taking things out of boxes.” My collection that isn’t vintage romance books appears. I’m talking finds from a thrift store, Jane Austen and Emily Brontë to name a couple. Except I have many different volumes that I’ve found here and there.

“I’m well aware. I also know you’ve added something to this collection since what was supposed to be your wedding day.” The brick she pulls out with different-colored feathers appears, and there, in the very front, is the newest one. I’ve been collecting them from the beach on certain occasions—my sixteenth birthday, graduating high school, becoming a hair stylist, certain memorable occasions. “So, tell me. Do you have one you found the day of your engagement? Because I know you, Stormy. You are your mother’s child. We keep things that mean something to us. You’ve always been fond of feathers at the beach, bringing them home, washing them, and adding them to your collection. But only on a day that means something to you.” Jesus, my mom knows me a little too well.

I walk over to where she has the block with feathers standing up. None of the feathers I’ve taken are prohibited by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. One day, I was about to pick a feather up when an older gentleman clued me in to the fact that some feathers are illegal to keep. From that point on, I studied each one or found what type of bird it came from with a quick search on my phone.

“So, when did you add this one to your collection?” Aunt Cat interrupts. I close my eyes. It would have been hard to keep it away from Griff when we were on the beach, and I was drinking as much as my body would allow me to. I wasn’t upset about the lack of wedding; I was upset that I let myself go along with it when my instinct was telling me to run far away as fast as I could.

“The night Griff rescued me from a nightmare I allowed to be created.” I open my eyes, feeling calmer.

“And there you have it. Heartache is hard, sweetheart. But missing out on love is worse,” Mom says, putting her arms around me, hugging me. I also realize maybe my mom has been through a broken heart that was far worse than when my dad walked out on us without a backwards glance. The only thing I don’t know is when or how it happened. My whole life growing up, Mom was adamant about not bringing men around when I was home. A few dates here and there when I was in high school was all I heard. In a small town, it’s near impossible. Unless this is a recent development.

“Mom, you’re allowed to find love, too, you know.” I blink back the tears, worried she’s put her whole life on hold for me. I’m old enough now, twenty-four years old to be exact. Dad has been gone since I was eight. It’s time for her to find her happily ever after.

“I know. Tell that to Aunt Cat. She’s the one who can’t find a man she likes. I’m learning it’s time for me to start living again. It’s hard when your identity has been a mom and a workaholic for so long.” I squeeze her tighter, more for myself than for her. She’s given me absolutely everything a daughter could ask—any sport I wanted to try, and any time I needed extra help in a subject, she helped or found a tutor. Now the sham of a wedding she probably worked overtime to pay for, damn it. I’m going to make sure she’s paid back, no matter what. Even if that means picking up new clients, working longer hours, or asking Griff if he needs help waitress a couple of nights a week.

“I love you, Mom, thank you.” She has no idea what I’m grateful for at this point in time. One day soon, I’ll make sure she knows.

“I love you, too.” We pull back from out hug. “Okay, let’s get this place cleaned up and get my girl out of here. I want to treat you to lunch. Next week, you’ll be back at work, and these random days and spending time with you will come to an end.”

“Oh, just you hush. I want in on the hug.” Aunt Cat comes up behind me, grabs both of Mom’s shoulders, and hugs us while smooshing me between the two of them. We all laugh, kind of like old times.

“I say it’s time we get Aunt Cat out in the dating world. Know of any eligible bachelors?” Aunt Cat talks in third person.

“Dear God, the woman has more men after her than she can keep up with. Last week, one was pounding at the door because your aunt forgot it was date night!” Mom exclaims. Aunt Cat is like Blanche from Golden Girls. There’s no man too old or too young for her. Plus, she’s all about the free love and orgasm life. Yes, I’m aware I know entirely too much about my aunt, but she enjoys sharing with the class or the town. Whichever listens more. God love the man who finally ties her down.

“Aunt Cat! Did you forget your little pink calendar?” We break away from one another. I pick up my feather collection and put it back in the box. My fingers slide over the brown- and white-spotted feather, being careful. It really is one of the favorites in the group. It could be because of Griff or the uniqueness to it. Right now, I’m not completely sure, and that’s okay.

“She did not. You know Cat doesn’t leave that thing anywhere.” Mom blows out a huff of air. Exaggerating the story is coming next.

“Well, actually, I didn’t forget about him. He wasn’t my type. My thought was maybe your mom would go out with the guy instead. That backfired when she went to her room, locked the door, and wouldn’t come out.” Aunt Cat acts like she’s put out by this fact.

“I’m not going on a date with your second choice. And I’ll have both of you know, I have a date tomorrow night.” I squeal in excitement, happy for my mom.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you, Mom!” I’d offer to touch up her hair, but we just did that last week. That leaves her with finding an outfit, makeup, and to tame her beautiful waves in the summer humidity.

“The wheels are turning, aren’t they? I can see it in your eyes. I’m good, Stormy. I’ve already got everything picked out, and if my hair doesn’t cooperate, then fuck it.” She’s a damn mind reader. I nod anyways, wanting her to continue. Cleaning is going to be put to the side. Finally, my mom is doing something for herself, and I am freaking ecstatic.

16

GRIFFIN

“What’s up?” I answer the phone seeing it’s Jack’s name on the display screen. The last thing I need is for my brother to give me shit when my head is focused on packing my bag for the weekend. I’ve already got the bar covered. Stormy is moved in, and we’re settling in. Except for Finn, the fucking traitor, he only wants my woman. She also spoils him with walks twice a day, feeding him fruits and vegetables as snacks, and constantly has his head in her lap when mine isn’t.

“You ready for this weekend?” He follows up my question. Figures he’d call to make sure I’m okay. Neither of us has broached the giant elephant in the room, and I’m hoping he doesn’t do it right now. I’ve got more important shit to deal with than his daughter, my niece being a conniving cunt. In a way, I should be thankful. Never would I have gone after Stormy when she was with Zach, and before that she was way too young.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” This boat race is three days long. Friday is a practice round, Saturday is qualifying, and Sunday is the finals.

“Listen, I’m putting it out there because you know this town talks. Mel and Zach will be back Sunday. She’s already called and asked if we can have a family get-together.” You gotta be fucking kidding me. I take my baseball cap off my head, run my fingers through my hair, and toss the cap on the bed. This is not what I want to deal with. Stormy is currently out on the beach with Finn, wearing a barely-there bikini, and I’m stuck in here for the time being. Luckily for me, I’ve got a clear view out to the beach. She’s throwing the ball for Finn while I’m packing my suitcase.

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