“Oh, I’m not selling anything.” She smiles innocently. “I’m Annie’s mom. I heard she lives here.” She tries to peek into the house but my big frame blocks any view. Oh, she’s selling something all right. It might not be good but she wants something from us or Annie.
I don’t know a hell of a lot about Annie’s past other than this woman ran off with another man and had only the barest contact with Annie after she left. Shacking up with another man isn’t where she went wrong; it was not taking Annie with her where she tripped up. The fact she’s trying to claim some kind of relationship now makes me suspicious and disinclined to treat her with any degree of welcome.
“That's nice,” I say in a tone which tells her I think it’s anything but. If Annie were here, I might act differently for Annie’s sake. But she’s not here and all I can think of is that this woman walked away from her daughter and left her in the hands of a man who cared more about his appearance to his congregation than he ever did about his daughter.
“Mind if I come in?” she asks. She flicks her hair back in a move that I’d have said was a come-on if it were done by club ass. Based on what Easy said about her being hooked on her own looks, I’ll chalk it up to habit rather than intentional flirtation. There are some women, no matter what age they are, that just like to kiss ass. She might be one of those.
I want to close the door in her face but decide I better not so I step back and allow her inside. Manners I didn't know I had prompt me to ask her if she wants a drink.
“I’ll take a vodka and orange juice.” She gives me my order and then walks into the living room. Her hand rubs the leather of the couch as if she’s testing to see if it’s real or something.
“We’ve got Dr. Pepper, water and beer.” Dr. Pepper is Annie’s favorite.
“No liquor? How quaint. I’ll take a glass of water then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh gosh.” She laughs. It sounds like a bird. “Don’t call me ma'am. That makes me feel so old and I’m only a few years older than Annie. Child bride and all, you know. That's how people do it in religious communities. We aren’t allowed to have sex until we’re married so we marry very, very young.”
I scratch my head and then head for the kitchen to get this woman a glass of water. I don’t care how old she is and it’s strange as fuck that she thinks I would.
I stomp back into the living room and hand her the glass of water. She’s settled onto the couch and her short skirt is riding up so high I think her panties are showing. I avert my gaze. If there’s one woman’s cooch I don’t want to see, it would be Annie’s mom. “Nice place you got here. This sofa is really comfortable.”
“We like it,” I say. I don’t tell her why. We like fucking Annie there because one of us can stand behind the back of it and have her suck us off while the other one pounds her in the ass from behind. Or she can ride us, either reverse cowgirl or straight-on doing the same. One in her mouth and the other in her cunt. So, yeah, I like the couch a lot. What I don’t like is the way Annie’s mom is patting the seat as if she wants me to sit next to her. I fold my arms and stand by the entryway.
“I hear that Annie has moved in with you. Is that just a temporary thing while the issues with her father are being worked out?” At my stony response, she hurries to add, “I’m asking because I’m concerned about my daughter.”
“Seems it’s a little late for you to be concerned about her. After all, she’s twenty-three now, not eight.”
She smiles, not at all feeling any shame at leaving her young daughter to go pursue her own jollies. “You never stop worrying about your daughter. Her father kept us apart all these years. After I read about what happened in the newspapers, I had to come down and see how she was, no matter what her father demanded.”
She’s got a full line of bullshit she wants to feed me and it makes sense to just let her spit it all out. I nod for her to continue and she does. “I’ve been out in Seattle and had come back for a visit and I saw the whole sordid story in the paper. It’s been covered extensively in all the city newspapers because it’s so sensational. A small town pastor beating his adult daughter and then being arrested for it.”
Her narration has a sort of sick breathless quality to it as if it’s about strangers, not her own flesh and blood.
“I bet,” is about all I can manage. “Why don’t I fill your glass for you?” I snatch up the barely touched glass and speed into the kitchen needing to get away before I give in to my urge to deck this woman. Shit, I have to be able to do a better job than her at being a parent.
Unfortunately she follows behind me. I dump out the water and then pour her a new glass. When I turn to give it to her, she’s practically up my ass. I take a step to the side and feel a brush of a hand against my groin. Did she just touch my junk? Nah, I must’ve imagined that. Still, I move away and lean against the refrigerator as she walks around inspecting our small kitchen.
“They tell me that Annie’s got two boyfriends and that they all live together in sin. Is that right? That she’s sleeping with both of you? How scandalous!” Her eyes are roving all over me as if she’s measuring me. “How long did you know Annie before you started seeing each other?” she asks, trailing her fingers over the granite counter top.
“A while.” Days, really. Easy saw her first at the library when he was sent in by Judge to make sure some skinheads didn’t hassle his woman, the town librarian. Annie was volunteering. He came back to the club that night and had no interest in the sweet butts strutting around the granary.
He told me he’d found the one. I tried to resist it because I didn’t believe him. Some pastor’s daughter who blushed when he flirted with her was not going to jump into bed with two strangers. He ignored me, gave her his claiming cuff, and that was that. He was right. Not only did she take his claiming cuff, but she wore mine as well.
“I heard that you all barely knew each other. Don’t you think you’re a little too much man for Annie?” She steps toward me—crowds me, really.
“I think Annie’s got it under control."
“Both of you, though? I saw your friend earlier.” She sweeps her hand along the outside of my biceps in an unmistakable caress. “Maybe she could handle one of you, but two? You should think about someone who has a little more experience.”
I push away from the refrigerator and walk to the front door. I wrench it open. “Time for you to go.”
She hesitates but under my unrelenting glare, finally scoots out. She puts a sway in her hips but I slam the door shut immediately. I don’t wait to see if she leaves before jumping in the shower. I don’t want any of her on me when Annie comes home.
Chapter Five
Annie
We take Mom to the Hilltop Cafe. It’s the nicest place to eat around here. On Thursday nights there is a prime rib buffet and the smell of roasted meat actually has my mouth watering.
I hadn’t wanted to leave Wheels Up when Easy showed up at five. Most of the filing had gotten done and I had started studying the product catalog. Judge pushed me out the door and ripped the product catalogs out of my hands claiming that Michigan and Easy would quit the club if I went home with a bunch of automobile repair catalogs.
Easy picked me up, took one look at my pinched face, and suggested that we skip dinner with my mother. I wished I could just turn away and tell her that she had her chance to mother me, but the little girl she walked away from is thrilled she’s back. Which is why I’m sitting across the table from her and the more I look at her, the more I see the resemblance. It’s in the shape of our faces, the small slope of our noses. Her chin is softer than mine and her eyes are bigger, wider and far more blue. She’s a shinier, more refined version of anything that I could be. She didn't look anything like a woman who had lived in a commune.
“So what have you been up to these past years?” Easy asks. He and Mom are the only two talki
ng. I’m tongue tied and Michigan doesn’t want to speak. I’m glad Easy spoke up with the question because it’s one I wanted to ask but I wasn't sure I could get it out without sounding accusatory. Which I'm sure is not the correct way to go about reconnecting.
“Oh, all over. I've been in a commune south of St. Paul but I had a falling out with one of the commune leaders, Keith. He wanted more than I could give to him. But I met this wonderful organic farmer who had come to a seminar at the University of Minnesota about healthy planting and crop rotation and he suggested that I visit him. I helped Paul for a while on his organic farm but after a few years of that I realized that my love for healthy living really didn't extend to mucking out stalls and spreading manure. I moved down to Portland and joined a small group of artists. Very fascinating people, Annie. I’m sure you would find them interesting.”
How would she know? She doesn’t know anything about me. Plus, I eat meat.
“I’ll have the prime rib,” I say mulishly.
“Same.” Michigan hands his menu and mine to the waitress.
“Me too,” Easy replies.
We all look at my mother. “Do you cook your vegetables in butter, because I’m a vegan and I don’t eat butter.”
“Is olive oil okay?”
I wonder if the Hilltop cook has heard of vegans before.
“Olive oil is fine. I’ll take the steamed vegetable platter and a side of pasta cooked in olive oil but only if the pasta doesn’t have eggs in it. If there are eggs in the pasta then I’ll just have the vegetables.”
The waitress looks dazed as she leaves to enter our order. Mom pats her non-existent stomach. “I started on the vegan diet about a year ago and it’s done wonders for my figure as well as my skin. You should think about it, Annie.”
I look down at my stomach which will soon be round and full.
Easy claps his hands together. “Annie’s figure is just fine.”
Michigan grunts his agreement and places two rolls on my plate.