“Because I thought Deacon would be more comfortable here than at the clubhouse. It might be a less stressful situation.”
“Less stressful? There’s literally no spot for him to hide from all of us here, like there is in the clubhouse. There’s no space for anything.” Creed glances around.
“It’ll feel cozy.”
“Now I know something is up. My father doesn’t use the word cozy ever.”
We walk back to the truck together to grab some more ice.
“There’s nothing wrong with the word cozy. It’s not a curse.” Even those I barely use since Creed was little and started shouting them at the worst moments. All the brothers gave it up because of that. No one wants a call from a day care that their sweet little kiddo curses like a sailor in front of the class.
Creed laughs. “Something is definitely up, and I’m going to figure it out.”
“Creed.” I turn on the stereo as we walk through the living room.
“That’s it. This is all about her.”
“What?”
“You’re playing a game with Greer?”
Huh? “Who is Greer?”
“The hot neighbor. You’re playing some sort of game with her?”
Wait. “How do you know the hot neighbor’s name?” And now I’m calling her the hot neighbor. That woman needs to move.
“I talked to her this morning.”
“WHAT?”
“You know, that polite thing that neighbors do on occasion. She seems really nice.”
She’s talking to my son. “Stay away from her.”
“No.” Creed smiles at me. “Greer isn’t going to try to get me to be her sugar daddy…though just saying, I’d totally say yes.”
“You’re a kid.”
“But I’m not blind. That woman is fire. She’d make an amazing first girlfriend.”
Of course, a woman like that would make an amazing girlfriend until she tears the man to pieces like a black widow. “From jail, because that’s where she’d be if she touched you.” Or in the ground… “Creed, that isn’t something you joke about.”
“I know. It’s just as ridiculous as you being angry at her for talking to me. When I was five, you taught me not to let anyone tell me who I can or can’t be friends with. All of a sudden, you hate a woman you don’t know, and you’re telling me not to be polite to her. Someone seems to have an issue, and it’s not me.” Creed hefts two bags of ice.
That issue is currently sitting on her deck reading…I’m going to fix that. She’s moving out before she can even get comfortable. Tonight is going to help with that.
***
“Thanks for doing this.” Bishop walks into my office a few hours later. “Deacon seems to be having a nice time.”
Security is up on the large screens on my wall. We both watch as Deacon smiles, or at least tries to smile through the scars on his face. There was a moment of shock when he first walked in. We weren’t prepared for how extensive the scarring was, but our little family took it in stride.
“It’s good to have him home. What did the doctors say?”
“The damage to his leg is extensive. They’re scheduling him for therapy and thinking about a medical discharge.” Bishop takes a draw off of the bottle of root beer.
No.
