Homecoming With Son

Michael is cackling in the living room when I get off the phone.

He’s watching the game with a Budweiser on the table in front of him, but his blue eyes are on me.

“Done deputizing?” he asks in his typical Florida cracker accent. “We can get to rustling us up that bandit Juice Box, boss?”

I snort. “You wish.”

He puts down his beer, stretches out his legs, and crosses them at the ankles. “Who was on the phone?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Chris. You know he doesn’t call unless he needs something.”

“Need some money?”

“Nothing like that. He wants me to come up this weekend and be his date for homecoming. Can you believe that?” I shake my head. “To salvage his reputation after a breakup, I guess.”

Michael flashes his teeth. “Hell, I’d want to show you off.”

“Yeah, what happened to the one he was all googly-eyed for?”

“Jimbo rustled her up, I reckon.”

“Either way, he wants to make her jealous or something.” I sigh. “I told him no, but I’d be disappointed if I couldn’t go after talking to you.”

“You going?”

I give my husband a mock look of horror. “You really think Chris wants to be seen with his old mom at a dance?”

“I think he’d be lucky to have you. Shit, you’re the best-looking female in the world.”

“You’re in rare form today, sugar.”

When I strut over and shake my booty at him, Michael pinches it. “I’m not young enough for the looks Chris wants to receive.”

“If it was anything like when I was in college, it was an achievement to win an older woman. I’ll bet that’s what your boy is banking on.”

“I’m going to be forty soon, Michael. Older woman to him is a chippie who’s thirty.” I pinch my hips. “I don’t want to hurt his street cred.”

“Hell, you get all the attention you do because you’re good-looking.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have stayed so good-looking. You keep the men away.”

“You saved my ass, too. Put on pounds after the Coast Guard.” His eyes can’t help but rake up and down my body, though, trailing heat all the way. “Shit, your body is still right on. You’ll make Chris’s lil lady regret her actions with…Jimbo.”

I laugh and thump him on the knee. “Beer goggles, honey. You can’t see straight.”

He doesn’t get mad, but I know he’s only half kidding. Michael has a way of reminding me I’m attractive. I keep going to that damn gym to make him happy. At fifty, he’s only a couple years older than me, but he’s still attractive. Asshole.

“I don’t even have a dress to wear to this shindig,” I mention. “I don’t have the time to go shopping.”

“You just don’t want to get up there and have all those college kids humiliatingly drool over your body in a bikini.”

“That’s not true.” I shake my head. “Oh, hell. I might as well go Friday morning and look for a dress. If you want me to go, I’ll call for an airline ticket.”

With a smile, he goes to get up. “Hell, I think you should. It’s always a good idea to have Chris on your side if you ever need him to break you out of jail.”

I laugh behind my hand. “I’ll call him back and let him know I’m coming to this thing.”

“You better tell him not to buy you any hot dogs.”

I wag a finger at my husband. “You’re getting a boot to the head as soon as I find one.”

Back in the kitchen, I get my son’s voicemail. After leaving a message, I catch my reflection in the mirror on the way out and smile. If my husband and son want to see a dynamite w