Page 6 of The Playboy's Playbook

MATT

“You ready for the rodeo tonight, bud?” I ask Clay as I drive back to my apartment after picking him up from summer school. Jen decided he wanted to go with Luke, but Clay wanted to stay behind and spend the weekend with me.

I sent my friends a text in our group chat and told them I couldn’t make it out tonight. Instead of them giving me shit, they suggested we go to the rodeo together. Clay has been there several times since he was a baby and it’s his favorite thing about Oakridge.

Clay shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess.”

I suppress a laugh because Clay is a carbon copy of Luke. Luke doesn’t get overly excited about things and even though Clay’s six, he’s the same way. Most six years old run around on a constant sugar rush, but not Clay Turner. Even when he was a baby, he barely cried or fussed.

I turn down the street that leads to my apartment complex, but not before stopping at the little bakery and picking up an apple pie.

When I was younger, it was all I would eat as a dessert. My mom would go by this bakery called Sugar Rush and bring home a pie every Friday. Once I started going out more, those days ceased to exist. I didn’t pick up an apple pie until Luke’s kids were old enough to eat solid foods.

Now every other Friday, I get an apple pie for them and it’s our favorite part of the day. I used to do it every Friday, but Luke got sick of them having sugar rushes and then stomach aches all night, so I told him I would tone back the apple pies for the boys.

Key words:for the boys. I never said I would tone the apple pies down for myself.

I park my truck and help Clay get out, leading him to the front door. I ruffle Clay’s curly hair, which he says he hates but deep down I know he loves it. “Go get changed, bud.”

I make my way to my bedroom and poke through my closet to find something to wear, settling for a pair of Wrangler jeans, a black t-shirt, and my black cowboy boots.

“Clay! I’m about to take a shower!” I shout from my doorway down the hall.

“Okay, Uncle Matty!” he responds.

I crack my bedroom door before going to my bathroom. Today was a rough day at work – the project’s deadline is fast approaching and we’re nowhere near done with it. I’m stressed because I know Luke is stressed. He’s just better at hiding it than me. The steam from the shower fills the room, but we’re in a time crunch, so I don’t linger too long.

After I get out and dry off, I run the towel through my hair so it’s not as wet. In a few minutes, my blond hair will curl up just how I like it. I get dressed in my outfit and spray a little cologne before searching for my hat.

There are two essentials for a rodeo: cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Seeing as I have my boots on my feet, I’m missing one very important thing.

“Where the fuck is my hat?” I say to myself, getting on my hands and knees to look under my bed.

“What are you doing, Uncle Matty?” Clay’s tiny voice calls from behind me.

I lean up, scrunching my brows in concentration. “I can’t find my hat and I can’t go to the rodeo with my hat.”

“You have a lot of hats, Uncle Matty.”

I sigh and lean over to tickle my nephew, earning a giggle from him. “Yeah, but I want my black hat. It goes with my outfit.” I know I can change outfits, but that means I would have to change boots and my black Ariats are my favorite.

“Oh,thathat. Jen took it. It’s at daddy’s house,” Clay says nonchalantly. He looks so much like his dad at this moment, it’s kind of freaky.

“When did he do that?” I ask, grabbing my keys and putting my wallet in my pocket before finally looking at Clay to see that he’s dressed himself in the perfect rodeo attire, cowboy hat and all.

“Last time you let us stay the night. He said you had plenty and he wanted it. It’s in our room.”

“Well, let’s get a move on since I have to drive all the way to your dad’s house. Come on.”

I secure Clay in his seat before climbing in the driver’s seat and beginning the fifteen-minute drive to Luke’s house.

“Can we get a funnel cake at the rodeo, Uncle Matty?” Clay asks, his head bopping along to the Alan Jackson song that’s playing on the radio.

“Of course. Just don’t tell your dad.”

Clay beams at me in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry, Uncle Matty. I can keep a secret. Be happy Jen isn’t here cause he would’ve told daddy the minute you said yes.”

After I scoured Luke’s house for my hat – finally finding it in Jen’s closet under a pile of toys – Clay and I made our way to the arena, secured his funnel cake, and found our seats just in time for the bull riders to walk out. My friends bought our tickets for us, so thankfully we didn’t have to wait long in line.

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