I turned around and watched as my wife’s fine ass in a pair of tight jeans rolled straight out the front door as fast as her worn boots could take her. The same boots she’d worn when she married me.
With a few steps I went to the window and saw her run across our land toward her own farm. After what my mother’d said, who could blame her?
“Jesus Christ! Ma!” I shouted as the fury boiled just under the surface of my skin. “What the hell were you thinking? Spoutin’ that shit in front of my wife! She’s. My. Wife. Ma! Not some woman I met on the street.”
“Sutton, I can’t… What is your father going to think? Your grandfather? Good Lord!” She rubbed at her brow. “Th is is unacceptable.”
“What’s unacceptable is my mother coming here and making my wife feel like garbage in her own home. Because that’s what this is. Her home,” I hollered, making my point as clear as day.
“You expect me to just accept her? A McAllister?” She placed her hand on her chest, and tears filled her eyes.
“Yeah, I do. I expect my mother, the only woman I’ve ever looked up to, to give the woman I chose for my own a fucking chance. You labeled her trash because of her family name. That goes against everything you and Dad ever taught us.”
“That isn’t fair when it pertains to them, and you know it!” she complained.
“Isn’t it? You just called her family ugly and told me I needed to fix the situation. My marriage is a situation to you. Did you even once think I might have married her because I love her? Because I want to grow old with her? Because I see something in her that you don’t? Jesus, Ma! You took one look at her and became her judge, jury, and executioner in a single breath. She didn’t even stand a chance with you. And out of everyone in my life, you were the one person I expected to have my back. To give Dakota the chance to win you over without the reputation of her family hanging over her head. And what did you do? Called her ugly and made it clear she wasn’t welcome.”
“Son, I didn’t call her ugly. I was referring to her family. She’s just as gorgeous as her mother was. The woman your father originally wanted to marry until Everett stole her away. I took Carol McAllister’s sloppy seconds, according to the people in town.” She sniffed and looked away.
“Oh, I see. Because you were hurt over twenty-five years ago, you took one look at my wife and demolished her where she stood. All because you’ve got some unfinished baggage that you need to work out with Dad over feeling like second place to Carol McAllister. Do you hear how messed-up that is? You hurt a young woman, a woman I happen to care deeply for, because of your own insecurities.”
“Yes!” she hollered and slapped her sides with her hands, clearly upset. “Okay, yes! I did. I did that.” She rubbed at her forehead and started to pace. “Goodness gracious, what have I done?” she choked out. “This is not me. I can’t believe I took out my own demons on that poor girl. She probably knows how bad this change in our family dynamic is going to be, and I just lived up to her fears.” She lifted her fist to her mouth and shook her head. “I’m sorry, son.” Her lip trembled. “I’m so sorry.”
I exhaled through my nostrils, frustration still running through my veins, and pointed out the window. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Close all that up.” I pointed to the stove and the bacon she was frying along with the potatoes that were sizzling next to them. Ma liked to make me a welcome home breakfast after traveling. She enjoyed taking care of all her children, including nosing into their business every chance she got. Today she got a whole helluva lot more than she’d bargained for.
I started to head out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the master. “I’m getting dressed, and you and me are going to the McAllister farm so you can apologize to her. Face to face. Maybe later in the week you can woo us with your cooking prowess.” I spread my arm out toward the kitchen where she’d been cooking up a solid farm breakfast.
Ma nodded and twisted her fingers together. “Yes. I will. I’m…sorry, son. I’m embarrassed at how I responded. You’re right. I should have gotten to know the girl without history swaying my judgment. I’ll talk to her. Make things right.”
“You better try hard, Ma. Dakota is not going anywhere,” I warned.
Not anytime soon, I reminded myself. Not ever if I can help it.
Ma hauled herself into the passenger side of my truck like a true country girl as I stomped down the porch stairs in my shitkickers. I walked around the cab and hopped into the truck. The keys were already in it, because we didn’t have to worry about car thieves like the city folk did. There was a lot to be said about being way the hell outside of the city limits, away from any riffraff. Not that Sandee didn’t have the same ol’ bar brawls or stupid teens joyriding in tractors or tipping cows for shits and giggles. Those kinds of shenanigans would always make a small town interesting, but we didn’t get much in the way of true crimes around these parts.