Page 30 of Peaches

My father takes my laugh as an insult, of course he would, and turns quickly to look at me. His last three scotches pushing him over the edge and into his angry drunk mode. A point at which I generally take my exit and realize if I want to make it out of this war with The General alive, I better surrender and apologize for shit that, honestly, I’m not sorry about in the first place. But before he can say a word, I quickly interject and beat him to it.

“You’re right old man,” to which the heat in his eyes dims slightly as I turn to meet his stare. Pushing off the bar, I start to walk towards the tempting woman across the way and turn to add just one more jab because, hell, I just can’t help myself. “You’re always right. But then again, you know that. So, there’s no point in inflating your already oversized ego.”

His words are cut off as I turn back around and stride towards Grace and my grandmother at a quick pace. His rebuttal hushed and angry behind me. And that’s exactly where I plan to leave it.

“What are you two beautiful ladies talking about in hushed whispers?” I tease, sitting down next to my grandmother and giving Grace a wink.

“You wouldn’t want to know,” Peaches says as she bites down on her lower lip in mischief.

“Well,” Marie begins. “I asked Kimberly (remember that’s Grace) what she does to make my grandson look so happy.”

“Did you now?” I inquire as my eyebrows raise towards Grace and she gives me a bashful look and shrugs.

“I haven’t seen you smile this much in years, Brettly.”

“Brettly,” Grace teases with a questioning smirk and a raise of her brow. I give her a sharp look, telling her to watch it, and she drops it thankfully with a small laugh.

“She told me it wasn’t her doing and that you two normally fight,” at that my grandmother acts annoyed and slightly irritated. More at me than the girl sitting across from her. It’s nice to know she picked sides that fast and left me, her own grandson, in the doghouse. I give Grace a stern look, but she just scrunches up her nose at me in challenge. “She said that your good mood must be because of the new client you signed at the office this afternoon. Something about her being the next ‘big one’ you’ve been waiting for, maybe all your life.”

“You don’t say,” I ask, more to Grace than Marie, which makes my little peach sitting across from us start to laugh. I secretly promise myself to make her pay for her deceit later as my grandmother nods her head in sad disapproval.

“Well, one thing you’ve got to learn about Kimberly,” I grit out playfully. “She always likes to exaggerate the truth.” I go to take a sip of the whiskey in my hand and wish I hadn’t after my grandmother’s next reply.

“Well, that’s fine,” Marie insists. “But then I told her the real way to make sure a man is pleased in life should always begin at home. You have to satisfy him in the bedroom, encourage his sexual fantasies, so he doesn’t have them with any other women, especially a client.”

I spit out the whiskey as I choke and it burns the inside of my throat. From gagging, to trying to catch my breath, to feeling like someone scraped the inside of my esophagus, I gasp for air that won’t come fast enough as my grandmother hits me on the back like a two-year-old.

“Told you, you wouldn’t want to know,” Grace laughs harder.

I look up at her as I cover my mouth and hack up a lung, all while Marie insists on still slapping me on the back.

“That’s what I did,” Marie continues, and I look at her wide eyed as my coughing slowly starts to subside. In all honesty, I’m really praying she doesn’t go on. “Your grandfather always had so many women throwing themselves at him,” but, obviously my prayers can’t be answered tonight. “I made sure towowhim every chance I got with things he never thought we’d try.”

“Grams, I don’t think…,” I hesitantly, and very awkwardly say as I stand and motion for the hired help to come take my drink away.

“Worked like a charm,” she says in a dreamy way cutting me off, as if remembering all thewowtimes they had together. Leaning into Grace she whispers. “I tried to tell Glenda that, but she wouldn’t listen. Now look at that son of mine. He’s always so frigid. Sometimes, I think he may be homosexual.”

“Grandma!” I set my drink down on a tray one of my father’s helpers finally brings over and shake my head.

“Who’s Glenda?”

My face grows somber, just like my grandmothers, as we both wait for the other to answer Grace’s question.

Who was Glenda? She was every happy and sweet, wonderful thing that was taken out of this world way too soon.

“My mother,” I harshly whisper as my hands shove themselves inside my dress slacks.

Even twelve years later, it still hurts too much to talk about.

Peaches looks at me like if there was anything she could ever take back in life, it would be that one question. We all sit like that, time stretching out awkwardly as the three of us don’t know what to say. Grace looks to the floor, as if she’s just done something that can’t be forgiven. But hell, I’m not my father, and I’ve vowed to never play the part of the victim. I just need a little time to heal from the sting that still surfaces every time her name is mentioned.

I’ll get there. She’ll see.

Suddenly, Marie sits up a little straighter. That is, as straight as a ninety-year-old woman can, and brightens up tremendously.

“I know,” she begins, as Grace’s sad stare meets my eyes again. I give her a smile, a small gesture to let her know I’m not mad I just don’t want to talk about it, and then turn to my grandmother. “Fighting is the quickest way to make sure this wedding never happens. And I know this grandson of mine can be a real pain, working too many hours when he should be concerned with more important things.”

She rests her hand on Grace’s and I can’t help but roll my eyes and not hold my tongue. “Like what, Grams? Thewowfactor.”

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