Page 9 of The River in Spring
My falling out of a tree while spying on a woman has everyone surprised. That I told it shocks me more than them. It’s the story of the day, which gets me the title and a corner piece. The fact it does not sound like me makes the telling more interesting, especially to my siblings. And they don’t even know the good part. Naked details were conveniently left out.
“You’re lucky she didn’t call the cops. What were you thinking?” my sister says, pointing to her head and laughing.
“Pretty sure he was thinking with the other head, Scarlett,” Van says with an eye to Teddy and Sam, his sixteen-year-old teenage nephews.
They both laugh at their favorite uncle. Think a little Coke snorted out Teddy’s nose. I remember how that burning sensation felt. The comment does not upset the women. Not an iota. When you are a household of three brothers and a father who says whatever comes to mind, nothing shocks.
My father pushes his plate away and signals for more coffee as my mother circles the table pouring.
“Magnifique! You did the right thing, son. A woman is attracted to a real man!” He lifts a tightened fist. “One who is bold. Am I right, Aurora?”
My parents are odd. They actually like each other and have stayed in love for decades. It’s a high bar to reach. Aargon had it with Katie. Forget Van. He’d rather fuck every available woman who agrees to the suggestion. He will be a bachelor forever. Maybe into the next life. Only Scarlett has achieved the goal with Parish, and their relationship is relatively new. I haven’t even tried. The shallow end of the pool has been fine. Lust, infatuation, friendship, but never love. Not as I saw it in our home. Not as it still resides there. What’s the rush?
“Gaston, I couldn’t have said it better. Be bold, children. Look what it did for your father and I.” She ends with a kiss to dad’s head as the coffee is poured. He answers with a spank to her ass.
“Oh!” She chuckles. He probably has spanked that ass a million times over the course of their relationship. But she still acts surprised, and he likes the reaction.
It starts a whole conversation about how they met in France, when my mother was traveling through as a young woman. Boldness factored greatly into their beginning. On both sides. We all have heard the stories of my grandparents’ pushback when they learned their brilliant daughter, with a chemical engineering degree, had fallen for a poor French artist without a pot to piss in.My God, Aurora!I can hear my grandmother’s plea to the heavens as she retold the story.
Then when they saw the new boyfriend, how their fears multiplied. His hair was halfway down his back and wild. According to my mother he was sexier than a bohemian Oliver Reed. I had to be shown a picture to know who the hell that was. Then I got it. The grandparents were no match for that kind of smoldering energy. Us kids could repeat every story of their meeting word for word. But it doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy hearing it again.
“So tell us about the lucky girl at the river,” my biased mother says. “Was she touching her hair when you were talking?”
Sam and Teddy look confused. I explain.
“Body language. It’s like a “tell” in poker,” I say. “No. I didn’t notice her doing that.”
“What does she look like?” Van asks.
“Blonde long hair, brown eyes. She’s about 5’ 3”, but her confidence is 6’4.”
“Nice. Does she have a sister?”
Van is always on the lookout for new contestants in his game of Anything But Love. He chooses women like himself. Neither party interested in the long-term. He currently is in between women, but that won’t last. Not just because the ladies like whatever he’s got, but because he can’t go without female companionship for long. His dick would fall off.
“I don’t think she has siblings. Her grandparents raised her. I don’t know the entire story yet.”
The table takes a pause in conversation.
“Yet?” my mother says.
There’s trouble keeping my interest hidden. No one here is fooled by my attempt at coolness, least of all me. I’ve kept details of any relationship I’ve ever had mostly to myself. Why did I just think “relationship”?
“We’re going out tomorrow night,” I say, hoping it’s the end of conversation on the subject.
That starts a whole thing. I just sit back and watch as each person digests the news. My membership in The Loner Club is in danger of being revoked. Rarely, if ever, do I talk about a woman I’m dating. It’s been like pulling teeth for a family that thrives on conversation. To the person, they love sticking their noses in each other’s business.
“You asked her out after falling from a tree spying?” Aargon says. “And she said yes?”
“She wants some of that.” Van chuckles.
“That’s about as bold as a man can get!” My father looks proud. “It’s in our DNA, boys,” he says, aiming his comment to his grandchildren.
“We came back to the house and had lunch out on the deck.”
I knew that one was going to hit the mark, but I couldn’t help myself. Dropping bombs can be fun. Stunned faces look at me like I’ve become an alien. My mother’s hand on my shoulder says more than words.
“Don’t get excited, Mom.”
