“Oh, no you don’t. I have a strict no pet policy, Celia,” I say sternly, leaving no room for discussion. Her wide, sorrowful eyes cause a tiny kink in my armor. “But I promise I’ll bring you to visit any time you want, okay?”

She nods in agreement, but her bottom lip juts out in a precious little pout. I raise my head and only then see my parents, huddled together by the chicken coop, watching the two of us intently with hopeful expressions. Those two will be burning up my phone tonight with questions; I can already see it.

“Did you meet Mo?” I ask, tipping my chin toward my parents.

“Helen? Yes, Lila introduced me. You call her Mo?”

I chuckle and nod my head. “Lila’s Mom, and Helen is Mo. I can’t call them both Mom, can I? Or I guess I could, but that would be confusing, yeah?” Celia nods. “So that’s what I’ve always called her.”

The kitten crawls into Celia’s lap and curls up into a tiny ball, purring loud enough to drown out the meows of his brothers and sisters. I chance a quick pet, and the fur is as soft as a whisper in a way only a kitten’s fur can be. My hand brushes Celia’s leg in the process, and I resist the urge to grab her hand in mine.

“Lila invited me to Sunday lunch at your grandparents’ house,” Celia says. She obviously sees my disapproval, because her hopeful expression morphs into a frown. “But I can tell her I’m busy. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I shake my head. “No, of course not, I’d love you to come. I love spending time with you. It’s just that Sarge, my gramps? Well, he can be a handful.”

“What do you mean?”

Mom and Mo approach, and I’m grateful for the interruption. I don’t want to talk about Sarge today. Mo reaches down and places a kiss on my forehead and a quick squeeze to my neck. “Hey, baby boy.”

“Hey Mo,” I say as I grab her wrist and squeeze. “Those chickens keeping you busy?”

Where Mom is petite and blonde, Mo is tall and slender. She's part Houma Indian, so she’s blessed with thick, dark, pencil-straight hair, and a rich complexion that’s the envy of sunbathers everywhere. While complete opposites in appearance, my moms are the two most in-sync people I’ve ever met. They are a living, breathing example of a relationship based on true love and unwavering respect.

The chickens, the orchards, and tending to the land in general has always been more of Mom’s thing, but Mo helps out more, now that she’s semi-retired. Mo is an emergency room doctor, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to fully give it up. Although they don’t need the money, she still picks up a shift or two every month at the hospital.

“Nah, they’re just a bunch of old biddies. Nothing I can’t handle,” Mo replies with a wink. "There are a few areas of fencing on the chicken coop that need repair. Would you mind taking a look at it?”

“Of course,” I say. “Supplies still in the barn?”

“They sure are,” Mo says as she extends her hand to Celia to help her up. Before I know what’s happening, Mom and Mo each have an arm looped through Celia’s and they’re hauling her off in the direction of the main house. “We’ll just take Celia back to the house for a visit. You can meet us when you’re done.”

“Okay,” I mutter, utterly confused by the turn of events. They usually worship the ground I walk on, but today I’m no better than the chicken shit littering the coop.

What the hell?

I’m sweaty, I’m dirty, and I’m more than a little irritated with my parents. If I know those two, they’ve probably leaked my deepest, darkest secrets to Celia in rapid succession. Well, in all honesty, I’m an open book. I’m a loud and proud, butt-scratching, balls blowing in the breeze kind of guy, so I guess I shouldn’t worry about what they’ve told her. But I cringe when I hear the cackling filtering through the door the second my foot hits the first step.

I just know they’re laughing about me. Those are Cain-induced cackles; I have no doubt.

I grab my balls, figuratively, of course, and power through. I bound through that door, a man with nothing to hide. I live in the light, dammit! I have nothing to be ashamed of. Only, the cackles die into utter silence the second they hear my approach, and I blow out a sigh of concession.

I knew it!

As I round the corner into the kitchen, I’m overwhelmed by the scent of Mom’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, although now they smell more like betrayal. I eye each of them suspiciously, and their lips are pursed, holding in laughter that I’m sure will fly any second.

“You’re both dead to me,” I say with an evil glare trained on my parents.

And I’m met with an explosion of laughter. I wave them all off with a swing of my arms and storm out of the room.

“Cain, don’t be mad at us. Come eat some cookies, honey,” Mom pleads, none too convincingly, through her barking laughter.

“I’m going to shower!” I holler as I tromp down the hall. “You two need to think about what you did.”

My scolding only serves to set off another roll of howling laughter.

No respect. None at all.

“Near to You” by A Fine Frenzy

Present Day

“YOUR MOMS ARE so cool,” Celia says with a smile as we walk down the drive.

“Yeah, they’re something else. I must admit, I’ve been blessed.”

“Was it ever … was it ever difficult?” She sees my confused look and sighs. “I mean, did kids ever give you crap about your parents? I know children can be very cruel…”

I shake my head and smile down at her. “No, not really. We lived in New Orleans until I was fourteen. Anything goes there, so no one ever gave it much thought, I guess. While I knew we were a little bit unconventional in comparison to other families, people are pretty accepting of alternate lifestyles there. We moved to Providence when Sarge, my gramps, needed a little … extra help. By the time we moved here, I towered over the other kids. Nobody fucks with the biggest kid in class. I joke with Mom and Mo that they showed up at the sperm bank demanding the sample of the tallest man in the bunch. That way, they knew I could take care of any assholes that crossed my path.” Celia’s eyes widen in surprise, and I chuckle. “Of course, that’s not what happened, but I still like to tease them. I can’t deny my size probably worked in my favor. Well, that, and being captain of the basketball team, running back of the football team, and an all-around charming mother fucker.”

Celia nods her head with pursed lips and squinted eyes, feigning seriousness. “You should never underestimate the importance of being a charming mother fucker.”

Call me a pervert, but those dirty words coming out of that sweet little mouth shoot straight to my cock. I need to change my thought process before I end up with an ill-timed dick tent.

Deer guts. Dog shit. Old saggy titties. Whew, problem solved.

“And just where are we going, Cain Bennett?” Celia asks as we stroll farther down the driveway.

I widen my eyes and shrug my shoulders, feigning innocence, and Celia giggles. The gravel crunches under our feet, and I look down at her swinging arms as she half walks, half skips. I take a chance and grab her hand, and do a mental fist pump when she doesn’t pull away.

“You know what I think?” she asks with a mischievous smile. “I think this is your attempt to get me away from your moms. I’m collecting way too much ammunition for your liking. Why have you never told me about the toilet seat incident?”