Black Sheep (Rawkfist MC Book 1) (9 page)

Justice

M
y maternal grandma, Coretta Earlham, has
quite the reputation in Tumbling Rock. People say she won’t take any guff. They
call her a spitfire.
Wild child. Firecracker. Salt of the earth. Devil
woman. Psycho bitch. Dirty whore. Mud eating deviant.
Not too sure where
the last one comes from, but I’d agree with the psycho bitch title based on my
few memories of her growing up.

We arrive at
her raggedy diarrhea-green house only a few miles from our place. Even with the
minimal distance, Grandma Coretta never thought to drive her ass to see us. I
appreciate her laziness once I get a glimpse of Coretta sitting on her porch
with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other. A shotgun rests
across her knees.

“Is it too late
to fake an illness?” Poppy asks in the backseat next to me.

Christine pulls
into the driveway. “She already sees us.”

“I can puke if
necessary.”

“Don’t be
scared of the old lady,” I tell Poppy.

“She’s got a
shotgun.”

Christine turns
off the car and looks back at us. “When I was growing up, my father was a
moonshiner. Sometimes, dangerous people showed up, and Mom’s still paranoid.”

“They’ve been
divorced for over a decade,” Journey says, cracking her knuckles because no one
has mentioned her manliness in a while.

“People around
here never change.”

“Good to know,”
I say, opening my door. “Let’s get this done so I can return home and imagine
Court naked.”

“I may still
puke,” Poppy mutters, following me to the front of the car and waiting for
Christine to stop fiddling with her hair long enough to join us.

“Don’t be
nervous,” Journey says to Christine. “You look beautiful. You’re a powerful
woman returning to her hometown as a success. Everything else is just gravy.”

Christine cups Journey’s
face and gives her a grateful smile. I watch them and wish I had been smart
enough to say something supportive first.
Damn Journey and her quick
reflexes.

“What’s the
holdup?” Coretta yells when we stand on the gravel driveway rather than
approach her.

“She does
realize she’s got the shotgun, right?” Poppy asks. “If she’s senile and
carrying weapons, I’d like to prepare my will before meeting her.”

Christine sighs
loudly, realizing she’s stuck between her bitchy mother and three bitchy
daughters. The poor thing is flustered, but she puts on her brightest smile and
walks to her mom waiting on the porch. They hug, and I think Coretta says
something about Christine’s body being only a little saggy after having three
kids.

I frown at Journey,
who shrugs. My other sister is giving the shotgun a death glare, and I suspect
she might steal it.

Coretta looks worn
down by life but not in a sweet old lady way. She seems as if she’d fuck any
willing man and kill any possible threat. There’s something impressive about
her snarling face. One day, I want to be a bitchy old person. Wouldn’t even
mind if the local kids fear my house and think I’m a witch.

“Are you a
lesbian?” Coretta asks Journey.

“No, but I am a
bitch willing to punch foolish old ladies.”

Coretta snarls
enough to show off her yellow canines. “You weren’t raised well.”

“Do you want
those to be your last words?”

“Journey,”
Christine admonishes. “Mom is just playing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I know, but I
don’t want Journey to kill you.”

Coretta takes a
puff of her cigarette before focusing her blue-eyed gaze on me. I’m pretty
proud of my bladder for holding fast despite my fear.

“Which one are
you again?”

“I’m Justice,
Grandma. Your favorite, remember?”

“Why do you
have a boy’s haircut?”

“Because I knew
you wouldn’t approve, and I wanted us to get off on the wrong foot.”

Coretta glances
back at Christine. “Your daughters have rude mouths.”

“It’s genetic,
no doubt.”

Grunting,
Coretta finally looks at Poppy. “This one is beautiful. Looks like you,” she
says to Christine. Our grandmother takes Poppy’s hands and lifts her arms to
get a better look at her body. “She’s got all the right curves unlike those
two.”

“Yay for
Poppy!” I cry. “Grandma wants to bang her.”

Poppy yanks her
hands free. “While you might want a piece of this, old timer, I’m too shallow
to find you attractive.”

“Your kids are
horrible, Christine. Maybe if you’d spent more time raising them and less time
playing the working woman, they’d have turned out better.”

“They’re good
girls. Spirited. Independent. Confident.”

“Stop,” I
whisper to Christine. “You’re making it worse.”

“This isn’t
going well.”

“Five bitchy
women in one place will never go well. You should know that.”

“I’m not
bitchy.”

Journey burst
into laughter first. Poppy follows once she shakes off knowing Grandma thinks
she’s hot. Hugging Christine, I try not to laugh in her face.

“If it makes
you feel any better, she’s really old and will probably be dead soon.”

“She’s my
mother,” Christine growls before glancing around and whispering, “People have
been saying she’ll be dead soon since I was a kid. I suspect she’ll outlive us
all.”

“Well then
aren’t we the lucky ones?”

Coretta puffs
on her cigarette and looks us over. “Maybe I am to blame for all this. I
probably wasn’t a good enough mother, and that’s why you all turned out
mediocre.”

“Sounds about
right,” I say, glancing at a nodding Journey.

Christine
places a hand on her Coretta's shoulder. “You did a great job, Mom.”

“Kiss ass,” Journey
mutters, walking away.

I have the
choice of following my sisters or staying with the kiss ass and her devil woman
mother. Somehow, I don’t struggle with this choice.

We leave the
porch and walk to where chickens run free. “Creepy.”

“Is it time to
leave yet?” Poppy asks.

Wrapping my arm
around her, I smile. “We’re supposed to have lunch with Uncle Mullet and his
wife, Former Stripper. Oh, and Grandmother Dearest.”

“I bet she
poisons the food.”

“I know I would
if I had to put up with you and Journey.”

Journey gives
me a grin and walks past the chickens pecking the ground. We end up at the back
of the house where four pigs snort in a pen.

“I feel like
I’m at the zoo,” Poppy whines.

“No elephants,
though. Can’t have a zoo without an elephant.”

“She’s old and
broke,” Journey says, glancing at the overcast sky. “She’s had a tough life. We
should accept her shortcomings and get through our lunch.”

“Stop being
rational,” I demand.

Poppy shakes
her head. “Yeah, you threatened to kill her.”

“That’s so Journey,”
I mutter. “She’s mean to your face and diplomatic behind your back. What a
bitch.”

“So evil.”

Journey gives
us double middle fingers and then looks at the pigs. “Let’s name them.”

We debate
proper names for the pork foursome, deciding on the characters from the
t
.
Since we don’t know the characters’ names, we have to Google them. By the time
we’ve probably tagged the uninterested pigs, Christine is calling us for lunch.

A picnic table
is set up on the front lawn, and I spot Uncle Mullet carrying out food. He’s a
friendly guy who likes to steal cars. I’ve only met him twice since he’s always
in jail for, you know, stealing cars.

“Look at you
girls,” Uncle Mullet says, wearing the smile of the friendliest fucker in the
world. “You got big.”

“Hey, Uncle
Danny,” I say, using his real name since he’s too sweet to mock to his face.

His blond hair
is a testament to every mullet-sporting Joe Dirt before him.

“Look at these
girls, will ya?” Uncle Mullet says to his wife and former stripper, Kayleen. “They
got so big.”

I fight the
urge to sigh since I realize this is how the entire afternoon will go. Boring
conversation, repeated compliments, and fake banter will only get broken up by
the occasional snide remark by Coretta.

Journey carries
to the table a pitcher of what I assume is Kool-Aid. Poppy stands next to me
and whispers, “Now I know how the Griswolds felt when they visited Cousin Eddie
in
Vacation
.”

“Nice
reference, youngling. Now go inside and hug your grandmother so she can cop a
feel.”

“Traitor,” my
sister hisses even while fighting a smile.

We walk inside
to grab various bowls filled with salads of the macaroni and potato variety.
Aunt Kayleen shows off the brisket she worked on for a day and a half.

“Why so long?”

“So it’ll taste
better, baby.”

I smile because
she’s sweeter than I remember. Back in the day, she wore too much makeup and
cackled rather than laughed. The woman scared the turds out of me. Now she’s
sweet as sugar.

“That’s a
different person,” Journey tells me when I mention the change in the woman’s
demeanor. “You’re thinking of his last wife, Kaitlyn.”

“So this one
wasn’t a stripper?”

“No, I think
she was.”

“Well, this one
is definitely an improvement.”

“Heard you’re
seeing one of them Rawkfist bastards,” Coretta says, appearing from the house
and joining us at the table. “You know how that one ruined Christine, don’t
you?”

“By ‘that one,’
do you mean my dad?” I ask.

“Jared always
was a charming liar,” Coretta says, sitting at the end of the table. “Lies
spilled out of his mouth. Got Christine in trouble and tied her down with his
kids.”

“By ‘his kids,’
do you mean us?”

“Don’t be so
sensitive.”

Journey glances
at me and then Poppy. Her expression tells us to behave. I give her my “smell
my queef” look, and she shrugs.

“Those Rawkfist
men are criminals. Thugs. Nothing more.”

Uncle Mullet
awkwardly smiles at me as if apologizing for his mother’s harsh truth. Aunt
Former Stripper, but Not The Former Stripper I Thought tilts her head, so her
blonde hair falls sideways and makes her look like a curious puppy. It’s a cute
look on her.

“My dad is
awesome, and my boyfriend is awesome. Anyone who says differently is not awesome.
That’s that, and I won’t discuss it further.”

“Rude mouths,”
Coretta says to Christine, who plays deaf.

“Which of the
Rawkfist thugs are you dating?” Uncle Mullet asks, giving me a wink, so I’ll
know he’s teasing about the thug part.

“I can’t
remember.”

“What?”

“I have a
terrible memory. Things come and go in here,” I say, tapping my head. “I’m
surprised I remember any of you.”

“She’s not
well,” Poppy adds because she’s Poppy. “Sick in the noggin, she is.”

“Figures,”
Coretta mutters.

“Mom,” Journey
declares, ready to start trouble, “when will we visit Grandpa Earlham?”

Coretta lets
out a hissing sound from her clenched teeth. Nearby, Christine remains so fully
entrenched in her deaf act that I suspect she’s missed all of our fun
conversation.

“Your
grandfather is a dead man walking,” Coretta announces when Christine remains
silent.

“So, you’re
saying we should visit him as soon as possible then?” I ask.

Coretta glares
at me. “Surprise you remember he exists.”

“Me too. I
forgot all about you until today.”

Zeb Earlham is
apparently a touchy subject for my mother too. My mention of her hermit father
causes Christine to chew so rapidly she’ll likely hurt herself.

“Should we take
you to the ER?” Poppy asks, still hoping to bail.

“I’m fine. So,
Danny, how is work?”

Our uncle takes
the hint and talks for the next thirty minutes about his exciting job at the
recycle center. He and Kayleen met at work, and they tell a romantic story
about how their eyes met over trash bins full of empty soda cans. By the time
they finish sharing, we’ve finished eating, and Journey is already carrying
plates inside to wash.

I follow my
older sister into the house, hoping to end this family reunion as soon as
possible.

“Put the
leftovers in the fridge,” Journey instructs.

“Is that safe?
The food’s been outside for the last hour.”

“That’s what
the crone wants. Just do it.”

I take the
covered plate and reach for the fridge handle. “What if she keeps human parts
in here?”