Appearing through the open bay door strolls Amos with Brutus bounding along at his heel chasing his shoece. At his side walks a woman that could only have been my girlfriend’s mother. She wasn’t identical but there were far more simirities than differences in her powerful female features. Same nose, same cheeks, simir lips, darker skin and a little bit shorter and a little bit thicker in the waist, rump and legs. Her hair could not have been more different though as it was in a short pixie style, undercut around the sides but topped with a thick and voluminous faux hawk. She had the same raven bck shade of hair but with ribbons of natural gray running through it that just worked for a woman her age. In a bck leather jacket over top a bck t shirt with mirrored aviators, tight blue jeans, a thick bck leather belt, and sturdy square toed cowboy boots she looked more like some 80’s rocker than an accountant.

  She looked good for a woman in her forties. Damn good. For a woman of any age. If not for the streaks of gray had Winona introduced Cheryl as her older sister I probably would have believed it. Combine her bad ass good looks with that husky, sultry voice and…woah Mama! To put it bluntly, Cher was a smokin hot milf. Jack always told me that if you wanted to know what a girl was going to look like in twenty years to look at her mother. If that held true here, Winona was going to mature like a fine red wine.

  “Well here he is now.” Amos says as he sees me.

  Cheryl stops in her tracks. Lowering her gsses she takes me in with her dark brown eyes. “Oh damn!” Her brows raise. “He’s cute.”

  “HA!” Amos guffaws.

  I stand there unsure of quite how to respond to that.

  She slips her shades off and tucks them into a jacket pocket as she approaches me. “So you’re the broke ass white boy trying to steal our daughter.” Before I can reply she begins peppering me with questions. “Why are you in the garage?”

  “I-I-I heard the c-c-car and th-thought Amos m-might need some help.”

  “Why are you wearing an apron?”

  “I m-m-made l-lunch f-f-f-for…”

  “Why the hell you stuttering so bad, boy?”

  “I-I-I…um…”

  “Easy there son.” Amos says, his voice low and warm, as he steps in beside me. “She’s just tryin to rattle you.”

  “Trying and succeeding.” She shoots her husband an annoyed gre for interrupting her interrogation.

  I swallow hard. “I have a st-stutter M-Ma’am. Always h-have.”

  She gives me a long look up and down. “Why you’re no bigger than a prairie dog. Your trailer park Mama forgot to feed ya or what?”

  “Um…I c-can’t help my height M-Ma’am.” Unlike Amos who was dead set against me using ‘Sir’, I sensed that Cher was very much okay with my use of ‘Ma’am’ so I stick to it.

  “I wouldn’t feel safe walking alone at night with a pipsqueak like you.” She starts to walk around me, her eyes never leaving me. “What are you going to do if my daughter gets jumped in some alley some night? Bite their ankles?”

  “Ehkolie is v-v-very safe. B-B-But I-I-I’d do my b-best.” I stammer. “I-I-I’d n-never l-let anybody…hurt…her. Ever.”

  “So what were you two doing out here? Just lunch?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “Uh huh. I saw that dirt bike.” She says as she circles behind me. “Don’t you own a proper car?”

  “N-No M-Ma’am.” I say.

  “How old are you?”

  “T-Twenty th-three.”

  “Twenty three and you don’t have a car?”

  “I l-like b-b-bikes.”

  “Probably all you can afford.” She scoffs. “On a grocery boy’s wage.”

  “Um…”

  “I looked you up Avery Beckett. You’ve got no photography business.” She glides back into my peripheral vision as she continues her circle. “You just said that to make my soft hearted daughter believe you’ve got a future. Didn’t you?”

  “N-No M-Ma’am. I d-didn’t lie to her.”

  “Why aren’t you in school Avery? Hm? Marks not good enough?” She probes. “As short on brains as you are on height?”

  “I g-got ok-k-kay m-marks.”

  “Even worse! No ambition? No hunger? Huh?”

  “Cher.” Amos says.

  “He thinks he’s good enough for Winona?” She shakes her head. “Nothing but poor white trash.”

  “Th-That’s n-not v-very n-nice M-Ma’am.” I say through quickening breaths. “Y-You’re b-being v-very r-r-rude and I d-d-don’t th-think I d-deserve it.”

  “Oh yeah?” She comes back around to my front and stares me down. “You want to say something to me? You want to call me a bitch? Go on then.” I lower my eyes and bite my lips before I said something wrong. She steps back. “Pff. Didn’t think so. Why don’t you run along home now little white boy.”

  Stubbornly I shake my head.

  Amos steps in and ys a hand on my shoulder. “He can’t help his skin.” He says. “You’re doing what you always accuse them of doing. It don’t make it right because your skin is darker. I’m surprised at you Cher.”

  In her pause I could sense that his words had struck home. “The boy’s soft Amos.”

  “Nah.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Avery’s got grit.”

  “He’s got nothing going on. Drifting through life. No future.”

  “He’s still young Cher. Did we have it all figured out at his age?”

  “He’s broke!”

  “And I wasn’t?” He chuckles. “I was fixing beaters with borrowed tools when we met.”

  “Whose side are you on here Amos?”

  “The winning one.” He says right back.

  “Pah.”

  “You ain’t seen the way she looks at him Cher.” He says as he pulls his hand away. “Just how you looked at me back then. And still do.”

  She sighs.

  Bolstered by Amos’ support I raise my head to face Cheryl directly. “I’m s-sorry that I d-don’t measure up in y-your eyes Ma’am. B-But…W-Winona likes me and…that’s all that m-matters.” I swallow. “If y-you c-can’t be happy for us…well…then you c-can just…g-g-g-get stuffed!”

  “What did he say!?”

  “F-Fuck the haters!”

  “Excuse me!?”

  “Ha ha! You tell her Avery.” Amos ughs, then turns to his wife. “Told you he’s got grit.”

  “Are you going to just stand there and let him talk to your wife like that?”

  “Hell yeah I am.” He sps my back. “When she deserves it.”

  She looks at me aghast…then starts to ugh herself. “The sass on this boy!” She shakes her head. “Damn it. You’re gonna make me like you, aren’t you?”

  I start to giggle along with their ughter, which just makes them ugh harder.

  As the ughter fades Amos says. “I think you owe the man an apology?”

  “Yeah. I think I do.” The next thing I knew I was being pulled into a hard hug. With my head over her shoulder the aroma of tobacco smoke cuts through the smells of the garage. Cheryl was a smoker. While that knowledge brought with it bitter feelings, the aroma was also strangely comforting on a subconscious level. “Hope I wasn’t too hard on you Avery.” She says. “Mama bear’s going to look out for her cubs. Sorry about that.”

  “Apology accepted.” I smile as I am squeezed tight. She even hugged simirly to her daughter!

  “HEY!” Comes said daughter’s voice rapidly approaching. “You got your own man!” I am pulled away from behind straight into another hug. Her arms wrapped around my chest Winona nuzzles into the side of my head and kisses me. “This one’s mine.”

  “No fair.” Teases Cher. “Yours is cuter!”

  “Hey now!” Amos protests.

  “You okay Sprout?” Winona whispers into my ear as her parents banter. “If she said something…”

  “I’m okay.” I say and hold her hands to my chest.

  “And who is this?” Amos says as Briar scampers between us all in pursuit of Brutus, who was currently chewing on Amos’ ce.

  “Huh?” She stands straight and looks around, only now realizing that she was right in the middle of us. “Oh! Hello there.” She offers her hand “I’m Briar.”

  Amos’ enormous mitt completely engulfs Briar’s slender hand and they shake. Never in my life had I seen such a size discrepancy between two adult people. With the crown of her head barely even reaching his nipples she had to look fully up to look Amos eye to eye.

  “Well nice to meet ya.” He smiles. “Another new friend?”

  “Another new friend.” Winona confirms as she slides around to my side, one arm still around me. “Briar’s in my new FoF group.”

  “Another one!” Amos excims as Briar ughs and moves on to shake Cheryl’s hand. “The geeks are everywhere!”