In no time, I have my head buried under the sink and every pipe taken apart. The pipes are old, probably older than me, and really needed to be replaced entirely, but Ma refuses.
“Just get it where there’s no water dripping. We’ll think about doing more later.”
It’s always later with her.
“Ma,” a voice calls out, and my blood instantly burns hot. “I’m here.”
I dislodge myself from underneath the sink and glare up at her.
She only smiles at me as she calls out to Thumper. “We’re back here, baby.”
“What did you do?” I whisper, trying not to raise my voice at my mother.
She’s playing dirty, but I should’ve known better. The woman has never played fair a day in her life.
“Zip it,” she tells me.
“What is this bullshit,” Thumper asks as he stalks into the kitchen with as much rage in his voice as I feel in my body.
“Watch your mouth, Dante,” Ma says to him like he’s a little boy.
My brother may be a big bad biker in his normal life, but when Ma’s around, he turns into a big old softy.
“Ma, I told you to stop calling me that.”
My mother places her hands on her hips and gets as close to him as she can, but she’s a good foot shorter than him. She cranes her neck to look up at his eyes. “It’s your name. I gave it to you, therefore I’m going to use it. Thumper’s a stupid name.”
I bite my lips to hold in my laughter.
“No one calls me Dante. It’s…”
“Beautiful,” she finishes his statement.
“I don’t look like a Dante. It’s a prissy name.”
“It’s a handsome name for a handsome man.”
“I look like a Thumper.”
“You’re not a rabbit,” she sasses. I’m damn sure she’s the only one in his life who talks to him like this, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it either.
“Why am I here, Ma? It looks like Wylder has shit handled.” He doesn’t look my way as he speaks. We said enough earlier today to last us a few weeks.
“What’s your problem with Tate?” she asks him point-blank, being more confrontational than she’s been in a long time.
He jerks his head back in shock. “What does it matter?”
Her gaze dips to me. “Your brother has a chance at happiness with a nice girl, and you’re going to mess it up.”
“How am I involved? I don’t care who he dips his wick in.”
“You be nice to that girl,” she says, poking him in the chest the entire time.
I haven’t moved from my spot on the kitchen floor. It’s like my ass is stuck to the ceramic tile.
“I like her for him, and I don’t want you to be your usual boneheaded self and mess things up for your brother. You’ve done enough damage to this family, and I’ve had it. You either act right or stop coming around, stirring up trouble for people who’ve done nothing to you except love you. Got it?”
He gawks at her like he’s at a loss for words.
