Page 26 of Collins
Nan is standing at the counter, phone cord strung across the kitchen, and the old yellow rotary pressed to her ear.
“Oh, here she is now. Johnnie, come say hello to your mother.” Nan gives me a look that says she knows I have zero desire to talk to her at the moment, but she’s taking pleasure in my annoyance.
I narrow my eyes at her, walk over to grab the phone, and Nan giggles.
“Hi, Mom.”
I spend the next half hour listening to her talk about how I don’t call her enough.
How wonderful things are going with Dad’s new job.
How she’s making him go to the doctor tomorrow because she’s worried about the cough he’s had for a week.
She lectures me about anything and everything she can.
She makes sure I’m taking care of Nan.
My eyes are getting sore from rolling them up into my head so much, and it’s a relief when we finally hang up.
I walk to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup and settle down on the couch to watch last week’s episodes ofDays of Our Livesthat Nan is getting caught up on.
“Your parents love you, you know.” Nan points the two fingers holding her cigarette my way as she blows a plume of smoke above her head and I sigh.
“I know they do, I just sort of feel like I was always kind of an inconvenience to them. Like maybe they never planned to have kids, but when I came along they just made it work. It’s like they were always doing their own thing and I was always a third wheel or something.” There’s a lot more I could say, especially about their drinking habits. But I’ve always kept that part to myself, and I have no intentions of changing now.
“Oh, Johnnie.”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way, they’ve always been great to me. I never had to question their love or anything…never mind.”
Guilt swirls in my stomach.
Nan stands up, puts her cigarette out, and pats my head before heading down the hall.
“I love you, sweet pea,” she says.
“Love you too, Nan.”
I find myself in the kitchen later that day, making lemon poppy seed muffins with the intention of bringing them next door. A perfect excuse to see my favorite boy. They’re Nan’s favorite so I line a cake stand with enough for her to get her fix and place the glass lid back on—packing the rest in a container for the neighbors. Nan appears to be napping in her recliner as I make my way back to the bedroom to throw on some extra deodorant and a pair of spandex shorts with my big shirt. I gargle some mouthwash, put on a couple coats of mascara and my favorite cherry Chapstick before grabbing the muffins and heading out. The summer heat smacks me in the face as I count how many strides I take from our front door to theirs.
Thirteen.
That’s how many steps I take before I’m knocking on their door.
Campbell cracks the door, and Crandall is standing over his shoulder with a toothpick in his mouth, sporting a grin. It isn’t normal to have such aesthetically-pleasing looking humans all in one place, good lord.
“Come on in, sweet cheeks,” they speak in unison, and it’s the cutest thing.
I make my way in and hand the muffins off to Campbell who doesn’t waste any time digging in and handing one over to Crandall. They head out and leave me alone in this trailer with their sleeping brother.
I’ve never been in Collins’ room, but have been informed it’s the first door on the left, down the hall. Nerves quake through me as I ease his door open and step inside. There, spread across the green sheets, is a peaceful looking Collins. He’s lying stomach down, his large frame taking up the entire twin bed, plus some. His brown messy hair blows with the low buzz of the box fan propped on a wooden chair in the far corner. I’ve seen him without a shirt on before, but I’m taken aback by the muscles covered in tan skin and freckles. Even more surprised to see black ink lining his left ribcage. Some sort of script I can’t make out.
“Are you just gonna stand there and stare?”
I jump at the boom of his voice and press a hand to my chest.
He rolls over and looks at me with tired, but piercing toffee eyes. I’m certain this is the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen and my stomach flips. He brings a hand up and gestures for me to come to him.
“A little late in the day to still be in bed, don’t you think, Mr. Combs?”
