Then, trying to smooth things over for myself, I made matters worse.
“Even if I’d chosen Hank, Dad would find something to be crotchety about. That’s his job, he’s a dad.”
When Lee had cut his eyes to me, he hadn’t moved his body. After I said my last, he turned full-body to me and cut me off from view of everyone else.
“Was Hank a choice?” he asked.
Uh-oh.
“I’m just saying,” I responded.
“You’re just saying… what? Exactly.”
“I’m trying to make you feel better!”
“I wasn’t feeling badly. I know your father has an issue with you and me. He’ll come around. I don’t need thoughts of you and Hank in my head. Jesus, Indy.”
Hank walked up. “You should know, you have an audience.”
I peeked around Lee and saw everyone quickly turning their heads away.
Great.
Hank threw his arm casually around my shoulders, like he’d done a million times before. Except this time, Lee’s eyes narrowed, at me.
“I need a beer,” I said, kind of desperately, and I left.
By the time I settled in beside Kitty Sue, I was into my third Fat Tire beer and had eaten a burger and a goodly amount of macaroni salad and Kitty Sue’s oriental slaw. I’d worn a pair of cut-offs made from a pair of old army-green pants and a black tank top with a thin design of red roses laced with gray and white barbed wire that snaked up my waist, across my torso, over my shoulder and down my back. It was too hot for cowboy boots and anyway, boots looked ridiculous with shorts (and I’d tried that look on numerous occasions) so I’d worn a pair of black thick-soled flip flops. My cut-offs were already feeling tight at the waistband and I hadn’t even had brownies or pecan pie yet.
I’d successfully avoided Lee since our little discussion. This was not hard, I’d had a decade of successfully avoiding Lee at family gatherings.
I turned to Kitty Sue and surprised myself by answering honestly, “I’m fine. Lee’s fine. Lee’s more fine than me. I’m having troubles adjusting. Lee seems pretty sure of himself. Lee seems pretty sure of everything.”
This, I realized, was true about Lee always. I’d never met someone as confident in my life. Well, maybe Hank, but Hank’s confidence was quiet and assured. And there was Lee’s best friend, Eddie, of course. But Eddie was like Lee’s twin, separated at birth, cut from the same cloth. Lee’s confidence, and Eddie’s, wasn’t like Hank’s, it was cocky and assertive.
“And you aren’t sure?” Kitty Sue asked.
I looked at her and thought maybe I should have lied. It was too late now.
“Nope. He scares me,” I admitted.
She nodded. “Yep, he’s pretty dang scary.”
I stared. My God, the woman was talking about her son.
“You agree?”
She looked at Lee then back at me. “Honey, that boy drives me to distraction. It’s like he’s not of my loins. I don’t even know where he came from. If Ally hadn’t been the exact replica of Lee, personality-wise, except female, I would have wondered if there was a mix-up at the hospital.”
I kept staring. Kitty Sue kept talking.
“Hank’s just like his Dad, smart, cautious, controlled, taking only calculated risks. I’m sure Lee calculates his risks but I think he allows for a much larger margin for error and counts on… I don’t know what he counts on to get him out of whatever scrapes he gets into.”
I couldn’t stop staring, she kept talking and everything that came out of her mouth was like a verbal car accident. If she was trying to convince me to stick with her son, she should have tried a different tact.
“He does… you know?” Kitty Sue said.
I realized she was asking me a question so I shook my head that no, I didn’t know.