“Grow up with crazy, folks screamin’ at each other all the time, Dad fall down drunk every other night and at twelve you think bologna is gourmet, you get free, you live wild.”
“Bologna?”
“Yeah, big score, me and Ike got bologna.”
“Ike?”
“Isaiah, my brother.”
“And your full name?”
“Tyrell. No middle for either of us. Mom and Dad had used up their creativity coming up with first names. Lucky we got ‘em.”
I sighed. Then I muttered, “Bologna.”
“Bologna,” he repeated.
“For me, it was corned beef hash. Granddad got the gumption to put together some corned beef hash, I was in seventh heaven. Usually, he forgot I needed sustenance to survive and I made myself PB and J’s. He also forgot to teach me the importance of dental hygiene so a diet of PB and J’s led to me having seven cavities by the time I was ten. I’m not a fan of the dentist but I am a fan of dental hygiene, just, unfortunately, hit the game late.”
“Corned beef hash is better than bologna,” Ty remarked.
“Yeah, but as far as I can see, you have perfect teeth.”
And he did, all white, strong, even. His teeth were as beautiful as the rest of him.
“Least those two gave me something,” he muttered and a giggle erupted out of me.
“Yeah, count your lucky stars, honey,” I advised.
“I am,” he returned and his voice was soft, those two words had meaning and I knew what that meaning was.
I knew what it was.
I knew.
And what it was was proof Lady Luck was feeling generous.
And I knew then I was not going to f**k this up and piss her off.
No way.
* * * * *
I was right. A kickass Viper did not go to the garden center.
This was because, outside Chantelle, there was a Toyota dealership. And Ty slowed before the entry of that dealership, muttering, “Quick stop, baby.”
I didn’t care if we made a quick stop. He was calling me baby again. His lips were twitching. I’d even heard him chuckle. And he was sharing. I’d take a quick stop in hell to keep all that.
We were gliding through the lot when a man with light brown hair wearing an ill-fitting pair of slacks and sports jacket saw us, his face split into a huge smile and he ran, actually ran to where Ty parked the Viper.
Ty barely cleared his door and I was only folding out when the man was on him, shaking his hand, grinning like a lunatic, head tilted back looking at Ty like he was a top-paid professional athlete on a mission and there to clear out the lot of all their high end models.
“Ty, f**k, Ty. Ty! I heard you were out. Fuck! Good to see you, man,” he said, pumping Ty’s hand
“Stan, yo,” Ty replied, pulled his hand free, moved out of the door of the car, forcing Stan out too and he turned and looked at me over the roof. “My wife, Lexie, Lex, this is Stan.”
“Hey, Stan,” I called, slamming my door but Stan was staring at me, mouth open.