Page 64 of The Burbs and the Bees
?s been lacking from my life for a very long time. Must be from great sex.
Or maybe it’s because that sex was with Alyson.
The one girl I should be keeping my distance from.
I hurry to my cottage and rush inside. “Morning, Capone,” I say with a little cheer in my voice.
“Jay’s an asshole.”
“Nice to see you, too.”
“Alyson’s hot stuff.”
“Why, yes, she is, and guess what? I slept with her last night. If you were nicer to me, I’d get you a companion, too, and you could rock your socks off.”
“Jay’s an asshole.”
I laugh. I can’t quite believe I thought about getting a companion for him. It’s obvious I’m insane. Maybe madness has burrowed deep into my brain. “You’re not wrong about that.”
“Good morning.”
I spin at the sound of my mother’s voice. Shit, how much had she heard?
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
She tucks a strand of silver hair behind her ears, and I note she has her gardening gloves on. “Can’t a mother visit her son? You’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t seen much of you.”
“Sorry.” I bring her in for a hug and kiss the top of her head. “You’re right. How about a big family dinner?” The last time we all got together was over a week ago for Beck’s birthday. I usually just eat alone in my cottage.
“I think that is a great idea. I’ve been meaning to have Alyson over.”
I stiffen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s probably not going to be here very long.”
“It’s the neighborly thing to do, son.”
“Yeah, but you gave her pie.”
“Jay, we have to treat our neighbors with respect and be there for them when they need us. Even if it means we have to put ourselves out.”
I spin, not wanting her to see my face. Last night I put out, and I might as well be wearing a neon sign announcing it. Why, though, do I have the feeling my mother knows that?
“Hey, Capone,” she says and walks up to the cage. Capone parades around for her, and I shake my head. He absolutely loves Mom. “I have something special at the house for you. Make sure Jay brings you to dinner tonight.”
“Mom, stop talking to him like he understands.”
“He does understand.” She coos at him and gives me a disapproving side-eye. “Don’t you, Capone, my sweet boy…who never talks back?”
Okay, I get it. Guilt pushes through my veins. I gave my folks a hell of a hard time, and I hate myself for it. My father might still be alive today if I helped more during my youth. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
Capone struts some more and spreads his wings, peacocking in front of Mom, and I have to say, I find it all a little bit disturbing.
I step into my small kitchen, and I’m about to put the coffee on when an ungodly scream echoes in the vast outdoors and curdles my blood. I turn to Mom, and her eyes are wide as we stare, both of us taking a minute to process what we heard.
“Shit. I think that was Alyson.”
“Go,” Mom says, and I drop everything and cut through the path between our two farmhouses, tree branches scratching at my skin as I run to Alyson’s and find her front door open. Panic welling up inside me, I enter, but a horrid—familiar—smell assaults my senses. What the fuck?
“Alyson, where are you?” I ask. Shit, high concentrations of skunk spray can be toxic. I need to get her out of this house.
