Page 12 of Nuts

In my eyes, nothing was more sacred than family. Be it my birth family or my MC brethren, my heart – and my life – was devoted to their safety and wellbeing. Most of them, anyway.

As I wandered around the room, moving things back to where they belonged, I let out a sigh. “Hard saying.”

She dipped the corner of the sandwich into the soup, held it in place, and stared at the television. Lauren asked the bailiff to produce the DNA tests for the two parties. As the bailiff turned away to retrieve the files, the show broke to a commercial.

She lifted the sandwich and bit off the corner. “I think he’s the father.”

I switched the couch cushions to their correct places, and then sat on the loveseat across from her. “We’ll find out in a minute.”

“He’s got those eyes.” She wagged the index finger of her free hand toward the television. “Lying eyes.”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” I said. “I’ll trust your opinion.”

She turned her focus to her lunch. “Your father didn’t make it home last night. I thought his shift ended yesterday?”

My father, a former pilot for American Airlines, had been dead for ten years. Some days it seemed she realized he was gone, and on others, she clearly didn’t.

I gazed at the photo of him that sat on the mantle. “I’m not sure when his shift ends.”

She took another bite of the sandwich. “Maybe it’s tonight.”

The television switched from a commercial to the show. The judge studied the DNA evidence, lowered the folder, and peered over the top of it.

“In the case of James versus Walters, the test by DNA Systems supports that you, Mister Walters, are the baby’s father.”

“I knew it,” my mother said. “The eyes don’t lie.”

“They sure don’t,” I said.

She poked the remaining piece of the sandwich half into her mouth, chewed it, and wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “When will you have time to clean the birds out of the yard?”

My eyes moved to the window. “I’ll get them when I leave.”

When I arrived, she insisted that there were dead blackbirds in her yard, but the lawn, as always, was spotless. The meticulous landscape was a tradition that began as a result of my father’s hard work, and was undoubtedly one of his life’s pleasures. I maintained the shrubbery, trees, and the lawn no differently than he had, primarily because I knew he’d appreciate it.

She looked up from her bowl of soup. “When are you going to give love another try?”

I flipped through the magazines that were sitting on the end table. “Leave it alone, ma.”

She lowered her spoon and gave me a look. “You’re still riding that thing, and you’re not married. When a man becomes an adult, he finds a job and a woman, and then he gets married. It’s been that way since the beginning of time. You’re out of school and you’ve got a job. What’s the next step?”

“Just like I said. Leave it alone, ma.”

She set the spoon beside her bowl, crossed her arms, and let out a sigh. “I will not.”

“I haven’t found anyone.”

“Are you looking?”

If fucking women qualified as looking, I would be on a full-fledged mission. But, it didn’t, and I wasn’t.

I was the MC’s stray sheepdog, the silent protector who constantly kept the wolves away from the flock of sheep. I didn’t trust many men, and the only woman I trusted was sitting across from me. The thought of having a woman in my life on a permanent basis made my skin crawl.

With her arms still crossed and her eyes fixed on me, she cleared her throat. “Percy. I asked you a question.”

I looked up. “I’m nosing around.”

“Nosing around?”