*COMPLETED* (18+) MATURE
Wrong number...usually a person would delete the number, right? A mistaken text leads to blood money and danger. Chris Johnson, a gender fluid male, receives a text from a mystery guy who shares a card number. Aware that i...
He looks a little better, having some hours of sleep. I avoid his gaze....not sure if rest actually helped. I'm not even going to try to depict mood right mow. I'm tired. Hungry, irritable, annoyed.
On the table, I survey bowls and trays of food as I sit in a chair across from Sam. Chicken-fried steak with beef, garlic bread doused in white gravy, crawfish, garlic butter, and a bucket of cold beers. Wow, mama made a fucking feast!
"Whoa..."
"Yeah, I had to go big. I actually missed cooking this much. It brought back memories." She takes a seat at the head of the table, chuckling. "I remember you ruining my flour with a pale ghost face."
"And trailing it down the hall." My dad adds sentimentally.
"Ha, I remember that." I smile to myself.
Mama starts stacking her plate; then everyone else follows suit. Clinging silverware fills the room. "So...Sam, how's the job going?" My daddy chews as he speaks.
I hastily observe Sam, who is in a better mood. "Well, I'm manager now, and mostly hire and reconstruct teams. It's pretty boring."
"You'll learn to look past that." My dad encourages through chews. "I know, when I started the family business, the shadow of my father guided my future. I found repairing skills very lifeless. I had to learn to love the craft. Not only was it good money and a great investment to hand down, but because I had sold myself to it."
"Honey, times are different now." My mom grabs a garlic bread. "Today's youth aren't really about sacrificing freedom...and I don't blame their outspokenness. I just wish that attitude didn't skip us."
Sam gives a warm and grateful exchange to my mother. "That's my dilemma exactly. I'd hate to regret not going bigger with my youth. But then, I'm almost out of the club, so why not settle?"
Hmm...this is new to me...he never brought this up about work...or his age. "Youth ends when you're in the grave," I say, lightening the mood. "So, live it up...but this one here never listens when I preach that."
"Only because you go beyond living it up, especially at the club." Sam rolls his eyes, adorably gifting me a sweet smile. My heart skips a few beats.
"Well, like mother like son." My dad points a finger between mom and I.
"That's the spirit." Mom winks. "Live hard, or else life gives up on you."
"I think you had to whisper that to me in the womb, because I swear it's my motto." I win laughs, and I soak them up, feeding off of the togetherness booming around the table.
Things are going good...the drama was exaggerated, drop it. Now it's time to savor these moments.
My father passes down cold beer coolers, starting with my mom, who hands one down to Sam. "Now, your mom was into spell books back in the day, she may have cursed ya."
"The hippy phase?" Sam grins. "Chris has brought it."
"Fun times, free times, but violent, unfortunately. To us hippies that was the price of fighting for peace and love." Mama throws a squint to her husband. "And those weren't spell books; they were spiritual awaking practices."
"Spells." My dad whispers to me and Sam. I crack up and take a beer from him. "She did chants and everything."
"Chants?" My mouth gaps. "You cursed me!" My mama burst into uncontrollable laughter, holding her stomach. "I should know, Nakamo got me wise to it..." I trail off, witnessing a grin so wide and childish that I lose myself. I feel Sam's eyes on me, but I don't acknowledge the sight. I stare down at my hands, chuckling reminiscently. "Wow...how has he been?"
My mama grins, enjoying her son's face as it time travels. "I thought you two kept in touch."
"Not really, I suck at long distance; I think we talked last July."
My father finishes a beer then opens another. "We can invite him over tomorrow."
I zone out; my mind flying to younger days.
Nakamo...my third boyfriend, a beautiful singer with pale eyes, which appeared to be drawn on. So ancient and full of softness, sass, and quirkiness. The sight of tan skin and an arm tattoo, takes over my vision. Dark hair flowing down a strong back. A native language rolling off a tongue so effortlessly...like water; light, and gentle.
Words that translated to: "a heart shape for a heart mate." A wooden necklace pops into my reminiscing; heart shaped and hand-carved with yellow symbols. This memory has been lost to me after being gone for so long, but now, as if it knows I'm back, wakes up.
Wow...what a reunion this will be.
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