In the Mix (7 page)

“Hey, bud!” He wipes his forehead with his handkerchief.

“Dad, you should have somebody do this for you.” I don’t know why I bother to say anything—I always get the same answer.

“What for?—I ain’t got Polio!” He takes my extended hand in for a shake, hugs me, and slaps my back.

“Mom and Linz inside?” I ask as we head in.

“Yeah, supper should be ready any minute now.” He pats my back for me to go in ahead of him.

“There’s my handsome son!” Mom heads over to me with a skip in her step. I love my mom but it’s like somebody turned on TVland and plucked her right out of a
Leave It to Beaver
episode. She even wears a goddamn apron all day long. Yet . . . I love that about her. How brave was she to not burn her bra and go all gung-ho women’s lib like all of her peers. My mom just wanted to have a nice family and a nice house. She stood her ground while most people put her down for it. She was always confident in knowing that she had the most difficult job and damn if she isn’t good at it! I give her a lot of credit and respect for not wavering. When Linz came along, after ten long years of trying, Winnie Cooper (my mom, not the chick from the Wonder Years) was on top of the world—gracious for God’s gift. She doted over and bragged about Lindsay as if nothing was wrong with her at all.

One particular visit home from college, my mom hosted some other moms from the PTA and I overheard a conversation, neither I nor my mother, were supposed to hear. Two of the women were pitying my mother and my sister, for that matter, over my sister’s condition. They had bet that my mother’s demeanor was a façade, of some sort, as to how she really felt.

“Mom, are those ladies for real?”
I was pissed.

“I feel sorry for them, son.”
She gave me a slight frown and shake of her head.

“Why do you feel sorry for them? They are putting you down and calling you a liar!”
I wanted to kick those bitches out. They didn’t deserve to be in the presence of my mother!

“Kyle, those poor women out there can’t see past their own negativity. I will never see Lindsay as anything but a blessing to me. I love that girl as any mother would love her daughter. No. That’s not true. I believe I love her more. I love her more because she is a wonderful, caring, and thoughtful human being. That aside, she has overcome so much—given her disability. I’m so proud of her accomplishments.”
She stretched her neck a bit to see if the ladies were still far enough away not to hear us.
“They see your sister as a curse. I feel sorry for them that they are so miserable and negative that they can’t see Lindsay. They only see her diagnosis. They are missing out on the person she is. They are missing out on the warmth of God’s love when that beautiful girl wraps her arms around you. They are missing out on kindness that is so pure, it makes you want to be a better person. Finally, they are missing out on the innocence. Innocence that the world has taken away from us at such a young age—Lindsay gets to hold on to hers much, much longer. What a gift. What a treasure she is.”
Her eyes teared up and if I’m going to be honest—mine did, too. I knew exactly what mom was talking about.
“Yes. I feel very sorry for them. What a shame to walk around with such a gloomy sky above you. Right, son?”
She palmed my face.
“How lucky am I, to be blessed with such a loving family. You and Lindsay are my greatest life’s work and I am a proud artist.” She shook my head a little for emphasis before giving me a quick kiss. She let go and grabbed her tray of goodies to take out to the women. “Ladies, so sorry for the delay! I do hope you have brought your appetites!”
My mother greeted them as if they never gave her anything to pity them for. I always respected my mother growing up, but that was a pivotal moment for me. That was when my respect and pride in my mother reached a new level of maturity. That was the day I realized just how strong she is. Not giving into the pressure of her peers to become the liberal woman they were all striving to be. Finding gratification in her chosen path and not imprisonment, as it was portrayed. To be handed an extra side on the plate of life and graciously accept it while others complain that it’s too much. To raise Lindsay and me with thought, instead of action. To see God in everything she does, find a smile to cross her face, no matter the situation—my mother is strong—and I am honored to be her son.

“Something smells good, Mom.” I smile and take in a big whiff.

“Stuffed peppers, sweetie.”

“My favorite!” I say in an excited gaspy manner.

“You say that every Sunday, no matter what I’m making.” She laughs at me. It’s true. What can I say?—My mom knows her way around a kitchen! “Alright, you kids set the table while Dad takes his shower. Dinner will be ready in twenty.” She pats my cheek and heads back to the kitchen.

“So, anything new?” My mother hints as we all get ready to dig in.

“I don’t know, Mom, you think Lindsay left anything out in her reports?” I inquire with my sarcastic charm then shoot a playful smirk at Lindsay that makes her giggle. I could never get mad at my little sis. I reach over and poke a finger at her side.

“I’d like to meet her.” Mom announces.

“Oh, I don’t think that will happen for a while. Well, that is, unless you go in with Lindsay one day.” I shrug. There’s no way I’ll get Ceese here to
meet the parents,
I can’t even get her to go on a date with me!

“You will love her, Mom. She’s my best friend!” Lindsay beams and my heart grows just a little fonder of CiCi. “She always tells me I do a good job and when I make mistakes, she never gets mad. We just go over it again. She’s a really good person.”

“Well, she sounds like a good egg to me!” Mom’s eyes light up at Lindsay’s declaration. I know my mom already loves CiCi just because CiCi treats Linz the way she does—like there’s nothing wrong with her. “I just question her judgment when it comes to who she lets court her,” she says and shakes her head with an added sigh.

“What do you mean, Mom?” I shoot her a quizzical look. Is CiCi dating someone that I don’t know about? Did my sister tell her and not me?

“I don’t know why she’s making you work so hard for a date with her.” She switches out her fork for her glass and takes a sip.

“She’s just afraid.”

“Afraid of what? You’re a good guy! You’re successful, have your head on your shoulders, and, if I do say so myself, you are quite attractive.” She raises her brow and gives me a proud smile.

“He gets his looks from his mother,” my dad pipes in.

“I don’t know, Stu, I see a lot of you in him.” She tilts her head at him in a flirty fashion. My sister and I catch each other’s eyes and roll ours, then chuckle. Dad leans towards her and pecks her lips. I know it sounds silly, because I’m still young, but at thirty-eight, I can’t help but feel my time is running out to find and have what they have.

“CiCi likes Kyle,” my sister announces before shoving a mouthful in.

I clear my throat, “She does?” I try to act as nonchalant as I can, pushing food around on my plate, only glancing up for a second.

“Yes. She smiles a lot when the guys sing your songs to her. She smiles most of the day. But then, she stops.” She shrugs.

“She stops smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Why, dear?” Mom asks.

“I asked her that yesterday.”

“And?” I grab my drink and swig.

“She just said she wishes you would stop.”

“Why does she wish that if she likes the attention Kyle is giving to her?” Mom is officially in her
I’ll get to the bottom of this
mode. Yeah—good luck, Mom!

“She just said she’s not the right girl for him and that she’s not really interested. She feels bad that he’s wasting his money.” She takes her last bite. My sister could be the champion of any race that involved eating. Sometimes I call her
The Hoover
but that usually warrants a slap on the arm from my mom.

“Well, then, son, you shouldn’t waste any more money on her,” dad says as if he’s solved a problem.

“Stewart Eli Cooper! Where is the romantic man I married?” Mom turns his way and slaps his arm. She’s a dainty woman but she really packs a wallop!

“What? He’s not getting any younger.” Dad points his hand in my direction. “I want some grandkids before I’m too old to enjoy them.

“Thanks, Dad! You’ve always had the amazing ability to lift one’s spirit.” I smirk at him.
Asshole
—I mean that lovingly, of course.

“Always happy to help,” he chuckles.

“I wonder what’s she’s done that makes her feel like you deserve better.” Mom says, though I think it was mostly to herself.

“I don’t know, Mom.” I shake my head. “I really like her, though. Yet, I really haven’t gotten to know her much. I’ve learned more about her through Mitch and Charlotte than from her. Heck, even Lindsay knows more about her.” It sort of makes me feel like a shmuck. There’s just something there. Something that ignited inside of me from the very first moment we met.

No. Not that.

Well—a little bit of that. I am a man.

There’s a pull there. I can’t say that I’ve felt it—ever—with another woman. I look into her eyes and I just feel that those are the eyes I was meant to look into. Her kiss—guts me. Every night, I replay the kiss outside her door—the night I went all
ninja
at the bar and the kiss at her shop.
Oh man—that kiss at her shop.
I think my knees were weak for days.

“Why don’t you try to get to know her better?” she starts. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! I know you’ve been trying to
date
her. Instead, just get to know her. Ask her a question or two about herself when you run into her. Make sure you run into her more. Maybe the serenades are too much for her. You might be pushing her farther away, son.” And with that, she puts her concentration back into eating.

I think she may have something here. I am going about this all wrong. I think I know just what I’m going to do!

Throwing the gear into park, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe this was a really bad idea. I turn off my car and thumb a beat at my steering wheel as I stare straight ahead at the
Home For Good
animal shelter in Hampstead. I roll through all of the questions she could possibly hammer at me. My answers, I think, are pretty solid. That’s it—no more sitting here! I’m gonna go in before I pussy out!

I climb out of my car and head up to the door while checking my watch. It’s 11:00 am and she should’ve been here for an hour already doing her Sunday of the month that she volunteers for. Yeah, I got her schedule down pat, so what?

With a big breath, I open the door and head in. CiCi has her back to me as she is on the phone. I walk up to the counter and wait.

And . . .

I may be taking inventory of her nice ass.

I lift my eyes up quickly as she hangs up the phone. She turns with a smile that quickly drops. I would’ve rather had an actual slap across the face then the imaginary one I just felt.
Stay cool, Kyle, this is a way in. Form a connection other than the heat you two feel.

Oh the fucking heat I feel for this girl!

“What do you want?” she asks as she starts shifting papers around. Busy work. I get it. I also get that I am affecting her the way she is affecting me. Why does she fight it so?

“Lindsay’s birthday is this week.” I start. Her eyes widen in surprise and warm up a bit at my sister’s name. “So, I thought it was time to get her a dog. It seems like she’s doing a good job working for you. She’s responsible and knows what to do now—thanks to you.” I add with a nod of my head. “She’s always wanted a dog. So I thought it would be perfect. I thought it would be even better if I got the dog from here. She’s always talking about the shelter and wishing she could find all of the animals homes right away.”
Fuck, I’m overdoing it! Shut-up, Kyle!

“I’m sure there’s a shelter where you live.”

“There is.” I agree. “However, this is the one she’s always talking about because of your involvement here. So, I think she would be thrilled to know I got her dog here. Shall we look?” I ask quickly to thwart her from any ideas of putting me out to get the dog somewhere else.