“Yeah, baby, lemme get some of that blue. I’m tryna get a beach house built over here.”
“A beach house gingerbread cookie house,” my son repeated, looking over at Hudson’s structure with one eyebrow raised. Then amusement filled his expression. “I like it, can I make mine like that too?”
“What’s wrong with a regular house?”
“Nothing, but I’m tryna bring sand to the beach.” Hudson winked in my direction.
Seconds later I was moving toward him with the bowl of blue icing and a smile.
“Yeah, Mama, like Hudson said. We’re bringing sand to the beach.” My baby was completely obsessed with Hudson and that had me torn because I didn’t want him getting attached to a fixture that wouldn’t stay in his life. Then again, I wondered if my fear was spilling over to my kid.
Once I set the bowl down next to him, I went to go back to the living room, but Hudson grabbed my hand, pulling me back into his lap.
“Where you going, shorty? You’re supposed to be helping us build.”
“To finish sorting the lights. Since I have your height, we might just be able to get the lights above the doorway and arch this year.”
He nodded. “That can be done together. Right now you boutta help us build.” Then he pecked the side of my face before resuming the fourth wall structure.
For the most part I helped, but only in supplies replenishment. Then, after long enough, I slipped away and made sandwiches, because the last thing I felt like doing was cooking. Around this time of year I was always worn out on the cooking side, as I had been the only one to cook Thanksgiving dinner. My sister, of course, was out gallivanting the night away and being thankful. Yeah, that was a whole month ago but I was still burned out from it and absolutely refused to cook anything remotely similar. Last Christmas I made sloppy joes, this one we’d be eating cold cuts with an array of chips. That wasn’t the only reason though, but also because most of the cattle and mares loved to go into labor around this time, so holidays were always spent on the go.
“Lemme step outside and take this, aight?” Hudson’s mood shifted and his tone was heavy.
I figured I’d give him some space while I tended to Ethan, making sure he had everything while he sat at his table inthe living room eating. After doing so, I moved to the kitchen window, watching him talk on the phone. Whoever was on the line had summoned a tension so thick into his being, I just wanted to go out there and hug it out of him. Instead of standing there thinking about hugging him, I gave Ethan a once over before hightailing out the door to Hudson.
Five steps later I was standing in front of him with my hand out for his phone. He looked at me strangely before ultimately handing it to me. Then, without looking at the caller ID, I hung it up and slipped his phone into my back pocket.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I watched as he took a seat on the steps and rested his head on his hands.
“That was my mama, wondering if her Christmas present got lost in the mail.” The irritation in his eyes made me want to find and slap her.
I shook my head, but I didn’t speak. I got the feeling he had more to say.
“There was no ‘Merry Christmas, son’, ‘how are you doing’, or any of that, just the ‘where is my gift’. Then, the fact that I didn’t get her shit has her harassing me like I fucking owe her.”
“You don’t owe her or anyone anything.” I stepped forward in front of him.
“You asked me if it was that easy for me to turn my back on everything I knew there, right?”
I nodded, anxiety coursing through my veins, wondering where he was going with this. “Yeah, I did.”
“Well, the answer to your question is yes, in a fucking heartbeat, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He was on his feet with his arms wrapped around my waist quickly, pulling me as close as humanly possible.
“Are you serious?” I peered up at him, looking for the slightest amount of amusement in his features. Of course thiswould be a cruel joke, but shit, he couldn’t possibly be serious.Or could he?
Chapter 7
Hudson
During moments of extreme transition, rest tends to become uneasy.My decision to stay here in Millers Point wasn’t only dependent on Greene, though shewas part of my deciding factor. The truth of the matter was, I liked who I was and how I felt being here. I liked the sense of family and the idea that being here wasn’t because these people wanted things from me. Shit was kind of weird, but the more I was here, the more I felt like I belonged. Even though there was a slight slowness here, it was necessary in order to not get caught up in chasing a moment that had already passed. Life here wasn’t lonely and unfulfilling, and I couldn’t see it ever becoming that. Because here I had people who actually gave a fuck without me having to fund their lifestyles or be what ensured their direct deposit.
I slowly peeled Greene’s body from mine, sure to not wake her, as I needed to make a call before she and lil homie woke up.
“Where are you going?” Her sleep-laced voice caught me before I could exit her bedroom.
“To make a call. Go back to sleep; I’ll be right back.”
“Mhmm,” she moaned before balling up and resuming the light snoring she had been doing before I got up.
