A Family Affair: An Extreme Taboo Anthology - Page 3

Once I’m a little more decent, I head into the bathroom and wash my face, before I brush my teeth. As I scrub the sleep away from my mouth, I glance around and smile as best as I can. Uncle Huck built this place himself and I think he did a damn fine job. Momma always said that he was good with his hands and I can’t help but think she was right judging on how nice and big this washroom is.

As soon as I’m all freshened up, I take one last glance in the mirror to make sure that I’m appropriate enough for breakfast with

Uncle Huck and adjust my bra strap to line up with my cami strap before I walk out of the room and make my way down toward the kitchen.

I head toward the smell of breakfast cooking, and stop just inside the doorway when I see Uncle Huck. He’s got his back to me as he cooks and I decide to be as affectionate as I can. Since I’m barefoot, he won’t hear me coming and I think it’ll be a fun way to say good morning the right way this time.

I make my way quickly across the wooden floor and when I reach him, I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze him.

“’Morning, Uncle Huck!” I say cheerfully. He stiffens slightly in my embrace before he gently shakes me off with a quiet chuckle. “Huck is just fine with me, Maddi. And good morning, darlin',” he replies as he takes a step to the left and reaches up into the cupboard for a couple of tall glasses.

I let out a sigh as I step away from Uncle Huck and make my way toward the refrigerator. I grab the carton of orange juice then walk back to where he set the glasses on the counter, filling each one half way before I put the carton back.

“Sorry about that,” I say softly.

“About what?” he inquires, glancing at me curiously.

I set my glass down and mime the good morning hug and he smiles. “That’s nothing to be sorry about, Maddi. I’m just not used to it yet, you know? Like I said yesterday, you were a little girl the last time I saw you and you never really did like to hug me then. I think I scared you actually,” he finishes with a laugh.

I reach for my glass and raise it to my lips looking at him with a critical eye. I don’t remember him being this damn tall, built, bearded, or scraggly haired either, but then again I don’t remember much from being a five-year-old anyway.

“You don’t scare me now,” I reply breezily to which he glances at me again and arches an eyebrow. “You kind of remind me of a caveman, really.”

He smiles again, shakes his head, and turns his attention back to breakfast. I take it as a sign that he wants to be left alone now, and I oblige him. It’s how Momma acts too when I’ve gotten on her nerves enough for one day, but she never smiles about it.

I walk into the dining room just off the kitchen, sit down on one of the wooden, handmade chairs and dangle my legs while I wait for Uncle Huck to come in with the spread.

There’s something I wanna ask him and I hope he won’t be too mad if I do.

Chapter Four

“This looks great!” I say enthusiastically as he sets down a large, cast-iron platter of vittles. There’s bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, the biggest pile of toast I’ve ever seen in my life, and even pancakes!

“Dig in, Maddi,” he encourages with a satisfied grin on his face. It makes me tilt my head and look at him for a moment. It’s almost like he’s not used to being praised for the smallest thing.

After I fill my plate with a little bit of this and that, I take a sip of my juice and clear my throat.

“Can I ask you something, Huck?” I begin conversationally. He shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and nods without looking up.

“What happened with Aunt Brianna? Why did she leave?”

He drops his fork with a clatter, leans back in his chair, and eyes me dangerously. I scoff and shake my head. He may be bigger than Momma, but I’ve seen that look a thousand times before and it doesn’t scare me anymore now than it does when she gives it to me.

“She left,” he replies curtly through grit teeth. “That’s all there is to it.”

I lean back in my chair, tuck a leg underneath myself, and cross my arms over my chest.

“You’re lying. Momma always gets irritated like that too when she’s lying. What happened, Huck? I won’t tell anyone; I promise.”

“I said she left,” he barks at me. “End of story.”

He picks up his fork again and then lets out a loud sigh as he pushes his chair back from the table and grabs his plate. Uncle Huck walks out of the room in a huff and I can hear the loud clatter of the plate as he tosses it into the sink.

I chew the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. I know he’s lying to me, but why? What does he think I’d do if he told me the truth? Look at him differently? Hell, I’m still trying to see him as it is.

I drop my foot and pick up my fork, push around my meal, then sigh as I grab my plate and walk into the kitchen. He has his back to me again, hands placed firmly on the counter, his head dropped low.

“Sorry, Huck. I seem to have a knack for wearing out my welcome everywhere it seems,” I say softly as I empty the plate into the garbage can then place it gently in the sink. “If you have a phone, I can call Momma to come get me.”

Tags: Yolanda Olson Erotic
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