Besides, if I always tell the truth, I never have to worry about contradicting myself.
Upon our arrival at Susa’s we let ourselves in, as we normally do now, and find her in the kitchen. Tonight is lasagna, the leftovers of which will feed us for most of the weekend.
Usually, Susa manages to hug Carter first. I’m not sure if she does it intentionally or not, but I’ve never minded it. Not really. Because she frequently hugs me a little longer. Besides, I always let Carter walk ahead of me, especially now, so of course she reaches him first.
Today, she bypasses Carter and comes straight to me for my hug. “How are you?” She asks after she releases me.
She looks a little…worried?
“Good, Ma’am. Why?”
“Are we…okay?”
That genuinely confuses me. “Of course. Why?”
“After this morning.”
Why do I feel like I’m missing something?Confused, I turn to Carter.
The bastard’s smirking. “He’s fine, Susa. He enjoyed himself. I can see we need to work on your sadistic side.”
She sticks her tongue out at him, making him laugh and amusing the hell out of me.
Also, it eases the tension in me. We’re okay. We’realllllokay.
“Shirt off, boy,” Carter says as Susa hugs him.
I resist the urge to glare at him and instead set my things down and comply. Of course I blush as I do it. Susa’s seen me in a bathing suit before, and that didn’t bother me.
This is different, though.
“You know,” Carter says to Susa, “heactuallycalled me a bastard last weekend.” Except he sounds amused, not upset. “Can you believe that?”
“A bastard, huh?” She also looks amused and smirks at him. “Well, he’snotwrong, Carter.”
His smile widens. “I didn’t say he was wrong. I just asked if you can believe it.”
“You’re a bastard extraordinaire.Sir,” I add with more than a little snark.
I must not have a very strong sense of self-preservation.
But that also amuses him, making him laugh. “I think my boy just gave me a nickname.”
“The bastard extraordinaire.” Susa firmly nods. “I like it. Suits you. If you’re going to be a bastard, be an extraordinary one.”
I have to admit, Carter’s easy, rolling laugh eases things deep inside me that I didn’t know had grown tense. I like that I can make him laugh like that, even if partially at my own expense. It softens the lines in his face and takes some of the wear and tear off his features.
I don’t think I’ve ever made my mother laugh like that. Laugh at me in mean ways, sure, plenty of times.
But nothing like this.
Through Carter’s nightmares, I’ve heard hints of the horrors the man keeps stored in his memory and in his flesh. If I can balance those sounds withthisone?
Yeah, I’ll do it.
He smiles and playfully swats me on the shoulder. “Go get our laundry started, please.”
“Yes, Sir.”
