Page 175 of Unexpected Redemption

I answer their question with a demure gloat. “We’re visitin’ town so he can meet Mama to ask for my hand in marriage.”

Lie. But it’s funny to watch them squirm.

Tomer doesn’t need permission. Certainly not from my lyin’ grandmother.

After some pleasant chit-chat, we say goodbye and continue toward the tent.

Ever the protector, Tomer continuously sweeps his gaze around the crowd, searching for danger. His Redleg pals arescattered around us as well, keeping a low profile. Jonesy crawled up on the roof of an exhibit hall for a bird’s eye view. Weird but effective, I suppose. He’s using binoculars to scan the crowd since he doesn’t have his rifle and scope assembled, but it’s in a case, strapped to his back.

Before we get to the tent, we pass a group of kids, roughhousing and rolling in the dirt. Tomer yanks me back as two women come charging in to break up the squabble. One after another, they yank the boys off the ground, snatching them by their ears, hair, or britches, whichever’s in grabbing range.

Once they’ve separated them, I recognize the ladies instantly. “Jennifer and Jessica? The famous Jones sisters?”

Jessica reacts first, finger-combing her hair and attempting to act classy. It’s a bit hard to pull off with cheese sauce in her hair and her shirt is ripped from the fight she ended. Jennifer approaches next, not even bothering to act sober or put together. She looks like she’s hadquite a dayat the festival. Perhaps she and her kids should head on home.

After the customary introductions are made, we make our excuses and mosey onward.

When we enter the tent, Mama sits on the raised stage.Queen Judgy McJudgersonis on her throne, looking down on everyone while being the center of attention. The embodiment of her personality.

At the CLIT festival.Oh, sweet irony.

I wag my finger in her direction. “There she is.”

“Will she be coming down from there?” Tomer asks.

“No, babe. We need to go up there and do a dance to get her attention.” I roll my eyes, embracing my bratty side.

He pinches my ass. Hard. “Brat.”

With my butt still stinging, I lead him to the side of the stage and wave to get Mama’s attention. Her face brightens, hints of genuine joy at seeing me intermingle with her polished facade.

Rising gracefully, she exits the stage. Her gait is less smooth than it was when I saw her last. Age must be catching up with her.

Her frame is stiff when she spreads her arms to offer an embrace. Stuffing my resentment to the side, I hug her back.

She isn’tallbad. My childhood was good when you take the forced religion, purity culture, and plastic charade out of the picture. I was loved and loved her in return.

No one is perfect.

Show me a parent who’s never made mistakes. I dare you. But I won’t hold my breath while waiting.

She’s my mother. And she matters to me.

If she didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.

Releasing me from the hug, she studies my face carefully. “Good to see you, Lettie bear. You look well.”

“I’m wonderful, thanks.”

In the next second, she lowers her brow and whispers, “Don’t ya have a sweater or somethin’ to cover up with?”

Ignoring that.

It’s September and hot as balls.

Forcing a swallow, I grab Tomer’s arm, dragging him closer so he’s by my side. “Mama, I’d like you to meet Tomer Stillman.”

“Lovely to meet you, young man,” she chirps, injecting contrived joy into her tone.

---