Page 67 of Toxic Wishes

“You two go round the horses up, come in, and have some lunch before you head out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Colt’s eyes fixate on me. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride one? I know Ma’s too scared with her old bones.”

Nora waves Colt off with her hand.

“But I thought you might like to ride one, they are fun when they go fast.” He winks and I almost die on the spot. He is so damn sexy and flirty. But why is he flirting with me in front of his mom?

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter. Always thinking with your Peter.” Nora stands to her feet. “I hope you brought your appetite, Abigail. You’re in for a real treat.”

“Oh, I’m not all that hungry.”

“Nonsense. People travel for miles to eat my chicken. Besides, you need to put some more meat on those bones. This isn’t L.A. Forget about your matcha tea, organic tofu, and gluten-free bread. Try my chicken, and I guarantee you’ll forget about that fad-bull-crap for at least a week.”She gets up from her rocking chair, and a few years ago, calling me skinny would have delighted me, but now it only reminds me of the demons that haunt me every day.

24

Colt

“If you talk bad about country music, it’s like saying bad things about my momma. Them’s fightin’ words”-Dolly Parton

“Do you like corn, hun?” My mom asks Abigail as she goes around placing chicken on everyone’s plate.

“I saved you a thigh, baby.” She places the most significant piece of chicken on my plate.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say as I stare at the crispy chicken. The aroma of fried meat filled my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl.

“I like thighs too,” Bodie says.

I look at Bodie as I pick my chicken up with both hands. It tugs at my heartstrings how he always tries to mimic me, but when I think about my younger years, I can only wish he never had a baby with a woman he’s not in love with.

“You eat your chicken wings, and I’ll get you more if you’re still hungry.” My mom puts the chicken back in the oven, where it keeps warm, and grabs the basket of corn, placing it on the table.

“One thing about your daddy is he always had a good appetite, which is probably what made him so tall,” Mom says as she sits at the table, joining us.

“Am I going to be tall too, Grammy?”

“If you continue to eat all your food before your dessert, you most certainly will suga’.”

“Wow, then I can wrestle Dad and give him all the knuckle sandwiches I want?” Bodie says with a little extra kick in his tone.

“That’s right, baby.” My mom says as she places a napkin in her lap. She’s always been a lady. Refined but with ruffles around the edges. She was never afraid to tell anyone her opinion or speak up when needed. My mom had to be tough.

Although I wish she would find a man to help care for her, I respected her for her strength and willpower, raising me all those years alone.

My mom’s face lit up as she and Bodie had their little conversation at the end of the table. She never looked happier than when I came to visit her with Bodie. I look over at Abigail, and she’s nibbling on her chicken drumstick. I try not to laugh, but it’s almost comical that she is eating fried chicken properly. But I wasn’t sure if she was eating slowly because she was trying to be less messy or if she was delaying eating her food altogether.

Maybe she didn’t like fried chicken, or she was a vegetarian, which is something I would never understand. God put meat on this earth for a reason.

As I glanced in her direction sporadically, I found it odd how I paid so much attention to her. It took me days to notice if Naomi dyed her hair a new color. And that’s after she gave subtle hints, but with Abigail, I wanted to study her as if she was a wild animal. Abigail was someone who carried herself in a sophisticated and conflicted way. It made me wonder if a toxic scorpion was hiding in there, ready to strike any minute.

“How are you and Namoi doing?” My mom took the napkin from her lap and carefully dabbed the corners of her mouth.

I know it’s not my mom’s fault for not being up to date with my love life since I didn’t talk much with her, but I cringed at the sound of Naomi’s name. Naomi was the last thing I wanted to discuss right now.

“She’s doing better,” I answered quickly, hoping she’ll take a hint.

“Such a shame. Her father was so young. I mean, sixty-five is not far off from my age.”

“Aren’t you like fifty-five, Mom?’