The Brick Wall

Chapter 46

Curtis POV

"I said I was sorry," my mom tells me for the tenth time since I woke up on the couch with Lennox tucked into my side.

"And I told you I wasn't bothered by it." It was a clear cut answer, one that holds only an inch of honesty. I was bothered by it. I had ended the night managing to pull my foot out of my mouth, thanks to Collins of course, but had yet to enjoy the taste of her lips again.

It's been a long week since Christmas Eve. I mean, other than that tiny little barely there kiss over her cupids bow. I don't count that as a taste. Damn, I want another taste.

I plopped Lennox down into her high chair and began breaking apart the small half dollar pancakes my mother had made, along with the tiniest bites of sausage. All so small that it wouldn't matter if all she could do was gum them until she swallowed. She was pleased enough, grabby the small pieces with her chubby hands, doing her best with baby coordination to push the fluffy bites into her mouth.

"Where is she?"

I glance over my shoulder at my mother who is flipping more pancakes over the stove. "Where is who?"

"CaCa," she answers easily. "I said I was making both of you breakfast. She should be here, haven't you talked to her this morning?"

"No, I haven't."

I hadn't been able to completely rectify my abrupt lunge into the next chapter of our relationship, and wasn't really sure she was ready to join my entire world for breakfast. I'm sure it would turn into twenty questions by the masterful Dottie Everett, ending with Collins either in tears of joy over whatever revelation my mother would help her recognize or gut wrenching sobs.

My mother has a way with words.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Her hand is on her hip, a spatula in the other and a dare flashing across her eyes.

"You're a lot, Ma. I don't know if I'm ready for the two of you to be in my home together for more than five minutes at a time." I snatch a sausage link off the paper towel that's collecting the excess grease and clamp down on it, devouring its entirety in two bites.

My mother studies me for a moment, a very quick moment, before speaking up again. "You screwed up, didn't you?" My head jerks back at her words, her quite possibly true words, but none the less they sting. "What did you do now?"

My head rolls back, eyes to the ceiling as I groan. "Why do you think I did something wrong? Maybe I did something right for once in my life, Ma."

"If you did something right, that chair over there next to your daughter would be filled with a pretty, rambling brunette."

Damn. She's good.

"I didn't even ask her, so there. Now, how do you know I did anything wrong?"

"Well, first off, not asking her was one of the wrong things. I was really looking forward to getting to know her better and see Lenny interact with her more. And B, you're not looking like you got even a little lucky last night."

The heels of both hands dig into my eyes at the thought of my mother thinking about me getting lucky. "What if I told you that was your fault?" I mutter between clenched teeth.

"Then I'd call bullshit. You had a couple hours to make your move before you had her in the hallway, son. Don't try and blame your lack of skill on me," she sasses, turning her back again to flip a pancake onto another plate.

It's at that moment that I realize these are not the plain pancakes I just mushed up for Lennox. "Are these your cinnamon roll pancakes?" I ask, my mouth salivating at the thought of the sweet goodness.