wrestling drag on the front. Millie was a retired gym teacher in her early sixties. She wore her iron-gray hair down to her shoulders, and she jogged along the levee every morning to keep herself in shape. She wiped at her forehead. “Nice to meet you, Taylor.” She pulled a joint from her shorts pocket, lighting it up and taking a deep inhale. “You smoke, Taylor?” she asked, offering it to him.
He gave me a panicked look.
“It’s okay, Taylor,” I said, thinking, He’s eighteen and in college. I started smoking when I was thirteen. “We all smoke—even your uncle. You’re not in Alabama anymore.” But as I watched him take it from her I couldn’t help but feel like I was being a bad parent.
I felt a little better as I watched him take a long hit and hold it in expertly. Clearly he’s smoked pot before.
The smoke exploded out of him in a coughing fit.
“Yeah, we only get good stuff, Taylor, so if you’re used to dorm pot, you might want to take it a bit easy,” I said as I took it from him and inhaled, handing it back to Millie.
She waved it off. “Nah—you boys keep it. Scotty’s right, Taylor, that’s good shit. Primo. Another hit and I’ll go to sleep, and I promised Velma I’d get these roses trimmed today. You know how she gets.” She winked at us and picked up her shears.
As we climbed the back steps, I asked, “Is that duffel bag all you have?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Mom said she’d ship the rest of my stuff here, but this should do me until then.”
My heart broke just a little bit again as I fit my key into the lock of the third-floor apartment and opened the door. “You’ll be staying upstairs,” I said, standing aside so he could walk inside. “But this is where Frank and I live. The upstairs apartment has the same layout as this one, but we keep all the food and stuff down here. We primarily use the upstairs for guests and storage. Colin’s—” I bit my tongue.
Had Frank told him about Colin?
I expelled my breath. If Taylor was going to be with us a while, he was going to eventually meet Colin, and why not get all of the questions out of the way to begin with?
“Do you know about Colin?” I led him into the living room and flipped on the light switch. The chandelier flooded the room with light.
He blushed again and nodded. “Rain told me everything.” He took a deep breath and the next thing I knew he was giving me a big hug. “Thank you so much for everything! I’m so glad you’re letting me stay here! It’s so awesome! I’m so lucky! And how cool that you guys have a ménage with a hot international spy!”
Rain apparently told him everything. But then again, he is family.
“I’m just glad we can help out,” I said, extricating myself from his grasp with a big smile.
“Sorry.” He stepped back from me, a sheepish look on his face. “That really is some good pot. I feel pretty stoned.”
“Have a seat and let me get you something to drink,” I said. “What would you like?”
“Water’s fine.” He sat down on the couch. “This is a really nice place.”
“Thanks,” I said, going into the kitchen as the back door opened and Frank came into the apartment.
“Where’s Taylor?” he asked.
“In the living room, he’s a little stoned,” I called as I got a glass down from the cabinet and added ice to it.
“What?” Frank stormed into the living room, his face red and his jaw clenched.
“I’ve smoked pot before,” Taylor replied, his hands going onto his hips, his jaw clenching just like Frank’s. “It’s not a big deal.”
Frank’s face relaxed a little bit, and finally he laughed. “I suppose there’s no way around it,” he said, sitting down on the couch next to his nephew and putting his arm around him. “The Bradleys are all pot smokers, so it’s going to be around. When did you start smoking?”
“In high school.”
I filled up the glass with water out of the gallon jug in the refrigerator and carried it into
He gave me a panicked look.
“It’s okay, Taylor,” I said, thinking, He’s eighteen and in college. I started smoking when I was thirteen. “We all smoke—even your uncle. You’re not in Alabama anymore.” But as I watched him take it from her I couldn’t help but feel like I was being a bad parent.
I felt a little better as I watched him take a long hit and hold it in expertly. Clearly he’s smoked pot before.
The smoke exploded out of him in a coughing fit.
“Yeah, we only get good stuff, Taylor, so if you’re used to dorm pot, you might want to take it a bit easy,” I said as I took it from him and inhaled, handing it back to Millie.
She waved it off. “Nah—you boys keep it. Scotty’s right, Taylor, that’s good shit. Primo. Another hit and I’ll go to sleep, and I promised Velma I’d get these roses trimmed today. You know how she gets.” She winked at us and picked up her shears.
As we climbed the back steps, I asked, “Is that duffel bag all you have?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Mom said she’d ship the rest of my stuff here, but this should do me until then.”
My heart broke just a little bit again as I fit my key into the lock of the third-floor apartment and opened the door. “You’ll be staying upstairs,” I said, standing aside so he could walk inside. “But this is where Frank and I live. The upstairs apartment has the same layout as this one, but we keep all the food and stuff down here. We primarily use the upstairs for guests and storage. Colin’s—” I bit my tongue.
Had Frank told him about Colin?
I expelled my breath. If Taylor was going to be with us a while, he was going to eventually meet Colin, and why not get all of the questions out of the way to begin with?
“Do you know about Colin?” I led him into the living room and flipped on the light switch. The chandelier flooded the room with light.
He blushed again and nodded. “Rain told me everything.” He took a deep breath and the next thing I knew he was giving me a big hug. “Thank you so much for everything! I’m so glad you’re letting me stay here! It’s so awesome! I’m so lucky! And how cool that you guys have a ménage with a hot international spy!”
Rain apparently told him everything. But then again, he is family.
“I’m just glad we can help out,” I said, extricating myself from his grasp with a big smile.
“Sorry.” He stepped back from me, a sheepish look on his face. “That really is some good pot. I feel pretty stoned.”
“Have a seat and let me get you something to drink,” I said. “What would you like?”
“Water’s fine.” He sat down on the couch. “This is a really nice place.”
“Thanks,” I said, going into the kitchen as the back door opened and Frank came into the apartment.
“Where’s Taylor?” he asked.
“In the living room, he’s a little stoned,” I called as I got a glass down from the cabinet and added ice to it.
“What?” Frank stormed into the living room, his face red and his jaw clenched.
“I’ve smoked pot before,” Taylor replied, his hands going onto his hips, his jaw clenching just like Frank’s. “It’s not a big deal.”
Frank’s face relaxed a little bit, and finally he laughed. “I suppose there’s no way around it,” he said, sitting down on the couch next to his nephew and putting his arm around him. “The Bradleys are all pot smokers, so it’s going to be around. When did you start smoking?”
“In high school.”
I filled up the glass with water out of the gallon jug in the refrigerator and carried it into
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