“I wouldn’t say those are dreams, darlin’. Sometimes I feel like he’s still laying there next to me is all. Brings me comfort. He wasn’t in the bed next to me tonight when I had the dream. So I figure it’s nothing a good cup of chamomile tea won’t help.” She chuckles softly, patting my hand. “How’s your arm, sweetheart?”
“Good. Healing nice. Doesn’t hurt at all.”
“You like your physiotherapist?”
I nod. “Yeah, he’s cool. He’s not babying me or anything.”
“It must have driven y’all crazy these last few months, huh.” She grins. “You’re just like your daddy. Don’t like a fuss.”
“No. I suppose not.”
“You like to fuss, though. Over people, I mean.” She reminisces. “Gosh, how many stranded cats and dogs you’ve brought home over the years, Gunner.” She chuckles. “And when Ellie brought you over them books when you broke your arm, you hated it at first, but then, gosh, how many of them did y’all do while you were down?”
“Lost count.” I chuckle, taking a sip of tea.
“I suppose we all have to let people help us sometimes, huh.”
“I guess so.” Then I think about Ava. How she didn’t want me to help her tonight. It bothers me so much, and I guess that’s why. It’s in my blood. “I tried to help someone tonight.” I say, not sure why. I guess it’s been a while since mama and I have been alone and had a private conversation. “She thought I was a stalker and started running.” I chuckle.
Mama slaps me playfully. “Oh, Gunner, what did you do?” she growls good-naturedly.
I smile, laughing. “No, mama, it was nothing bad.”
“I know you, boy. This is coming from the kid who shaved his brother’s eyebrows off while he slept.”
I laugh out loud, remembering. “Well, that was payback, mama. It was Austin’s own fault. You know he was cooked that night, right?”
Mama snorts. “He was not!”
“Yes, he was! And how many things has Austin done to me, mama! Remember that dang third grade play? When he tied my shoelaces together? I still have the bump on my nose from that!”
We look at each other and break out into laughter. My mama’s got one of them laughs that’s contagious as hell. I can’t help it. When we finally stop laughing, she mewls, wipes her eyes, and asks. “So, what were y’all trying to do, hun? When you scared the pants off this…person, hm?”
I never told mama about Ava. Not sure if any of my brothers squealed or not. “I tried picking up this girl I know at the bus stop. Pouring rain and freezing cold, you know, but…uh…yeah, she started running. Thought I was going to nab her or something.”
“Did you tell her who y’all were after all?”
I nod. “Yeah. Didn’t help.” I scoff. “She don’t like me much.” I joke, even though it’s not funny.
Another playful growl. “Gunner…what did you do!”
I laugh at mama. She sure has a way of lightening a conversation that would otherwise be awkward.
“Well, she dumped me first!” I bark, grinning, playing along. “Left me in Houston, without a trace!”
“Well, why’d she dump you, boy?” mama adds, in the same vein.
“Her folks didn’t like me.”
Mama takes a sip of her tea. “Well, then, that’s a common problem. Most don’t feel that anyone’s good enough for their babies. I’m the same way.”
My eyes widen, and it’s my turn to growl, and I add a playful gasp for good measure. “Y’all don’t like Ruby or Kate?...or…Whinny????”
“I adore them.” She says, giving me a look, but then she says, under her breath. “But they’re still not good enough for my babies.”
I snort a laugh. “Mama.”
“Whaaat????” she cranes her neck, as though what she just said wasn’t totally uncalled for. “You wait until you have babies of your own, Gunner. You’ll see.”
