“Ugh,” I grunted and went to make coffee from the machine. I hated the nasty shit, but I drank it when I was forced to get out of my bed before the damn sun.
“There’s no hot cocoa in there. Zander drank it all. I need to go to the grocery store today.”
“Coffee works,” I muttered.
She had the nerve to chuckle. My mother wasn’t soft and sweet. She hadn’t been given a daughter. She’d been given three sons, and she held her own with us. As dainty as she looked she could scare the shit out of you if she snapped. Needless to say, none of us ran over our mom.
“Want a muffin? I made some fresh yesterday. Had to use up the blueberries before they went bad.”
That made this morning a little better. But only a little. “Yes, please,” I said wondering how I’d missed those when I got in last night. I normally could tell by the smell of the place when I got home if mom had been baking. I’d proceed to case the place for whatever she’d made.
She placed a plate in front of me with two muffins on it. “He just wants to spend time with you,” she was trying to reassure me.
“Then why can’t we spend time doing something I enjoy too. At a much later hour?” I grumbled.
“Because he has a job and it’s time you took your own job more seriously.”
My own. Meaning working under my father at the club. Going to meetings and learning the ropes. I had one more year of college then it all got real. I wanted to make my year last because my future didn’t sound that exciting.
“Whatever,” I replied before taking a bite. I braced myself to get slapped on the back of the head for that one word. It didn’t happen, though. Instead, Dad walked in dressed and looking happy to be awake.
“Take that to go. We need to leave,” he told me then went to kiss Mom. “If Zander isn’t up by eight call me. I told him yesterday that he was in charge of cutting the grass today.”
We didn’t have much grass. The backyard was the beach. But cutting the grass didn’t just mean cutting the grass. It meant doing all the other yard shit that he wanted done. You’d think we could hire a damn landscaper, but no. Dad said he had three sons he wasn’t paying to get shit done that we could do.
“I’ll get him up if he doesn’t,” mom said with a smug smile. That would involve ice. I know. She’d tossed some in bed with me before when I wouldn’t budge.
Dad chuckled. “For his sake, I hope he gets up.”
I took my second muffin and cup of coffee and headed for the door.
“Y’all have fun,” Mom called out. As if that was possible.
Dad followed me out the door. “Get in my car. No need for you to drive.”
That wasn’t good. This meant he was going to keep me busy doing shit all day. I would be stuck there. Unless I used a club car to give me a ride home. But then he’d find out about that in seconds. Damn.
I went to his silver SUV and climbed into the passenger side. He got in, and we drove in silence. Thankfully. I drank my coffee which tasted like ass and ate the muffin. I wish Mom had given me three. The drive to the course was only minutes.