Wicked Flower (8 page)

“I’m close. I was having fun
drawing it out and looking with Triple Red but I think I’m
gonna
get serious about it now. Find one big enough to hold us all,” he let out at
the end.

“Who?
You and your harem?”

Will knew better than that. Stefan
didn’t have live-in girlfriends.
Visitors, yes.
He
scratched his head.
“Not exactly.
I’m thinking about bringing
my mom back with me. You
know,
maybe get a place with
a house in back for her. Kind of like what Lucky and
Tris
did for Grace.”

Out loud, the statement surprised
him too.

While Mom should be the only
woman on his mind right now, the troubled young lady he’d held a few hours ago
wouldn’t leave him. But that was crazy. He had to see that for what it was.
Two paths crossing for a minute in time.
A very hot moment
in time but one that was gone now. He’d had lots of those to speak of over the
years. So why couldn’t he smile this one off like he always did and move on?

Fuck,
I’m turning soft.

He looked over at Will who was
sitting on the edge of the bed, thumbing through the DVD’s he’d bought at the
truck stop. A shrink-wrapped copy of “Road House” lay on top with some teeny
bopper werewolf drama underneath it. What he’d love to let a “We need to find
you a woman” rip, but he didn’t.

“And my main man,” he said
instead. “Think about it.
You, me, my mom.
Good times
to be had.”

“And her nurse,” Will added.

“Her nurse,” he said and subtly
wagged his eyebrows at Will who barely smiled. What had his mom said her name
was? “Daniela.” He said it with his father’s Spanish accent.

“Sounds right up
your
alley,” Will said, effectively
dismissing Stefan’s hint.

Will made a good point but not in
the way he thought. Even having Mom living with him, Stefan would still need
someone to be with her for the times he’d be gone. This new tour starting in a
few weeks would be a long one.
Probably a nine-
monther
.
There was a lot he loved about being on the
road but it was still something he had to gear up for. Get his head in the
right place. Stefan cracked his neck from side to side.

Shit, them all living together
had the makings of some crazy reality TV show, but Stefan loved Will like a
brother and hoped his friend would take him up on the offer. Besides, he
couldn’t keep getting his usual gaming buddy, Ben, in trouble at home. Now that
the band’s webmaster had a woman, their late night Fall for Duty sessions had
come crashing to an end.
Love, the ultimate man-friend
killer.

“We’ll see,” Will said and restacked
the DVD’s on the floor near the small TV in their room. “Road House” was now
second to “Dirty Dancing” and the teen werewolf flick dropped to third. Looks
like Will would be up all night watching his new Swayze stash. There had to be
some way Stefan could get Will around someone new without his buddy knowing
what he was up to. At least one of them needed to get laid.

“Yeah, I guess this visit will be
a pretty good dry run with us all under the same roof.” Stefan wouldn’t push.
He would unpack his clothes later and left his suitcase against one of the walls.
For a second, he stood facing the mirrored closet door. “Hey, thanks for coming
with. I appreciate it.”

Will just nodded then said, “Let’s
go eat. I’m starving.” He smoothed his hair down over the side of his head with
the harsher scars.

“You’re always starving.” Not
sure why he kept doing this to himself, Stefan’s thoughts immediately went to
how hungry he was for
her.

“I know. Hey, out of curiosity,
has your mom ever seen a picture of Sin Pointe?”

Stefan considered the fact that glancing
around the walls as they’d made their way through the home so far and all
pictures of him were the same childhood ones, probably not. “I don’t think so.
If you want I can dig one up and show her,” Stefan said as they made their way
back out of the room, down the hall and to the stairs. “I’m sure she’d be
fascinated by the platinum spiky
mohawk
,
leather and chains. Your piercing would go over really well.” He pulled out his
phone and mouthed “Let’s see here, Google Image search Sexy Sin Pointe Drummer
Will Cordero.
Nipple Ring.”

“Asshole.
You wouldn’t.”

“I would but I won’t. Besides I’d
be outing myself too,” Stefan said and rubbed his still growing beard.

“Oh, so mom’s never seen her boy
wearing eyeliner?”

“That’s guy-liner and you wear it
too.”

God, he hoped Mom hadn’t seen any
of the band’s
magazine
spreads. Sin Pointe’s shoots
were about being fast, easy and pleasing to the fan base. They’d once posed
butt naked for some full body
tat
shots. All but
ink-free Marion, who stood there dressed in what looked like a black apron,
looking more like a butcher with his arms folded across his chest than their
keyboardist. “Dude, you remember that shot that had Marion looking like our Dom
Master?” Stefan asked.

“Yeah, all he needed was a whip.
That was fucking funny until he slapped my ass,” Will said, rubbing his butt.
“That shit stung and left a welt. He’s got a firm ass slap.”

Stefan nearly cracked up. “Yeah, that
was fucking funny … unless Mom saw that issue.”

“Something tells
me we’re safe then. Mom doesn’t strike me as a
Tat Master
subscriber.”

Will
had
a point.

But worse would
be the paparazzi rags they always stocked right there at the grocery checkout
and the parade of bad shots with him and who knew how many different women.

They hovered near the last few
steps and spoke over each other again.

“Agreed, no band
pics for Mom.”

“Something smells good. This
Daniela must be a really good cook,” Will said as he hopped down, skipping the
last step. Stefan smiled, remembering doing that as a kid.

The more he heard the name, the
more it bugged Stefan that she wasn’t here with his mom. He’d give the lady
credit, she kept a clean house. At least he hoped that was her doing and not
Mom’s. How many times had the babysitter made him do the chores when she’d been
paid extra to do them? At least until Stefan was old enough to keep her
occupied with other things. Mom had apparently never known about that or she’d
have had even more to be ashamed about when it came to her only son.

His mind flashed to the new daisy
bed in his old room but actual hunger brought him back to the here and now.

Will was right; something did
smell good. But the flavors were all wrong. Mom had never been real big on
Indian food. The spices had always wrinkled her nose whenever they’d gone into
town and passed by the Tandoor Tavern. Dad had liked that place. Stefan
regretted the even smaller amounts of time he’d spent with his dad. But with
the new family, it was just easier to stay away. He had heard they lived in
Idaho now. Stefan had never been.

“Why are you frowning? I bet you
a hundred bucks there’s some bad-ass Chicken Curry awaiting us,” Will said as
they approached the kitchen. “You love Indian.”

“Yeah, but from
what I remember, Mom doesn’t.”

Will
gave
him a look. “This Daniela must be a really good cook then, if she’s eating it.”

He raised his eyebrows.
“Must be.”

Was this woman the right person
for Mom? Was she even listening to Mom? He could be pissed all he wanted at
those thoughts but when it came down to it, if he’d moved Mom closer years ago,
it wouldn’t be an issue. He shook his head and led his friend to the kitchen
and the rich fragrant smells of curry, ginger and onions. The garlic made his
mouth water as surely as it probably churned Mom’s stomach. He felt Will’s hand
on his shoulder.

“It’ll be alright, Stef,” said
Will.

Yeah, well where the hell was
this nurse? They needed to talk. Because the way he saw it right now, his idea
of packing Mom up and moving her to Nashville with him was looking better by
the second. He’d have to find a new caretaker, of course.

He saw his mom had served them
plates and stood by the sink. She washed her hands then crossed herself, just
like she always did before sitting down to eat. She turned to him while she
patted her hands dry. “Ready to eat?” she asked the two of them.

Stefan didn’t miss the grimace
turning her mouth down. Yeah, she loved Indian food now his ass. “Let’s eat,”
he said and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t pull back. He was as
grateful as he was surprised. “But tomorrow, I’m making breakfast. What would
you like?” he asked as they followed Mom to the dining room table. Will stayed
close behind.

“Oh, I don’t know. Surprise me,”
she said, surprising him indeed with her spontaneity. If he hiked his eyebrows
anymore tonight at the changes, he’d have a raging headache to go along with
the raging hard-on once he was left alone and thinking about
her
. Not a good combination.

“What are we making?” Will
asked
with a smile. His head bopped to invisible drums. Man,
some woman would find Will irresistible someday if he let her. Even Stefan
could see that. It had to be the glasses.

Stefan thought about it for a second.
“Pan-fucking-cakes,” he said quietly over his shoulder so only Will would hear.

“Okay then. You sexy Latino men
don’t mess around when it comes to food, do you? Pancakes? I thought maybe we’d
be having
Huevos
Rancheros or something.” Will
teased.

“No, we fucking don’t mess around,”
he whispered, hoping his mom hadn’t caught his cursing. It was like he was
sixteen again and not nearing forty. “Mom can’t stand all that spicy stuff.”
Both the Indian and Mexican food would just remind her of his dad. It was bad
enough that Stefan’s mere presence probably did it in spades. Mom was
tolerating him well so far.

Will nodded. “Pancakes it is then.”

They sat down and his mom stabbed
at a bite of food. Stefan came this close to snatching her plate up and
throwing it in the trash and cooking something fresh. Any other time, maybe he
wouldn’t have cared so much. But she was seventy fucking years old, deserved
respect from all of them, nurse included, and this was unacceptable to him. If
she wanted to eat fruit loops sprinkled over donuts, hadn’t she earned that
right? That was probably pushing it, but he was so damn angry with himself. When
Daniela
got back, he would clear this
up. He took a bite. The damn food was delicious.

Dish duty was pretty entertaining
with Will. When was the last time either of them had put on yellow rubber
gloves? He’d washed. Will had rinsed. A mess had been made which they’d cleaned
up. But Stefan was now irritated that the nurse still hadn’t returned. The
storm outside had cycled through a few times and rain and wind were now on the
rise again. Summer was so close, just like he remembered as a kid.

He propped a pillow under his
mom’s feet and searched for a channel on her TV, settling on a legal drama. He
sat on the edge of her bed, her frailty and acceptance of him punching him in
the heart. Strangely, he found himself wanting to talk about Dad but that would
be selfish and he’d learned a thing or two from Will. Selfish was bad. But he
only had two weeks and there were things they had to talk about if he had any
shot of getting her to return with him.

 
“Mom, can we talk?”

She propped herself more upright,
even though it looked like some nerve somewhere was being pinched from the
effort. “Sure we can, son.”

Where did he begin? “Thank you for
letting me
stay
here.
And Will.”

She nodded.
“Of
course.”

They talked about her most recent
doctors’ appointments and the harsher than usual winter. He told her about his
move to Tennessee and how he was still looking for a house.

“I’ve always heard Tennessee was
lovely.
Especially during the fall.”

It would be cowardly not to use
that comment as his lead-in.

“You know, Mom, I’ve been gone so
long.
Haven’t been here for you.
Regardless of
anything else, I’ve felt really bad about that. And,” he shook his lowered head,
knowing this wasn’t the heart of the matter and he was about to blow the
lead-in she’d given him. “I’ve let the one thing I can honestly say I love keep
me away.”
 

“Oh Stefan, don’t.” Her hand
rested on top of his. “Does your music make you happy?”

He nodded, shocked she’d grasped
so quickly that his one love was his music.
“Yes, most of the
time.”

“Listen to me. Whatever else has
happened between us in the past, I have a son who has found success doing what
he loves for a living. As your mother, that makes me happy. I’m the one who
should apologize for not making sure you knew that. You’re here with me now,
son. And who knows? The day may still come that you find something you love more
than your music.”