Duke-ing It Out by Jami Albright
Duke
Damn infuriating woman. If she wants normal, then I’ll give her a bellyful of normal, or at the very least, mediocre.
“Where are you taking me?” There’s challenge and a small thread of panic in her voice.
Good.
“Ever heard of Ryder, Texas?”
“No. Should I have?”
I smooth my hand over the steering wheel. “Not really. It’s a small town about thirty miles north of Fort Worth, and where I grew up. No one would look for you there.”
A smile so blinding that I have to look away spreads across her face. “That sounds perfect. I’ve always wanted to live in a quaint small town with cute shops and neighborly folks.”
“Oh, yeah, you’ll find that and more.” Lord, is she in for a shock. My hometown is neighborly enough, but everybody knows everybody and their business too. She won’t be able to make a move without every person within a five-mile radius knowing it.
“So, do you still have family there?”
My hand comes up to rub at a dull ache at the base of my skull. It’s the same ache that always appears anytime my family is mentioned. “Yeah, my mom and stepdad.” I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to loosen the knotted muscles.
“What’s wrong with them?”
I’m so shocked by the question that I jerk my attention from the road to her. “Nothing. Why?”
She shrugs. “Um, I don’t know, you look like we should drive you straight to the chiropractor.”
I purposely keep my hands on the steering wheel. “There’s nothing wrong with them.” Much. “They’re just my family.” I use that word loosely. My family ended the day my dad left.
She pulls one leg beneath her and carefully turns in her seat to face me, hissing when she moves a little too fast for her injured back.
“Seems painful.”
Her hand waves away the question. “I’m fine. You’re being kind of cagey about them. Are they spies, jewel thieves, lion tamers?”
I laugh at the idea of Phil and Patty Blue as spies. “No, my stepdad is a sometimes clown and magician, and my mom—”
“A clown and a magician! That’s so cool.” Her eyes are as big as saucers, and her voice rises about three octaves when she says magician.
“And my mom owns Patty Blue Cosmetics.” I’m not touching her that’s so cool comment. She ought to try living with one.
“I’ve heard of Patty Blue Cosmetics. It’s like a multi-level marketing business, right? And every sales consultant has a blue car?”
“Only the top sellers, but, yes, that’s the one.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. She built it from the ground up. They have consultants in almost every country in the world.”
“I can tell you’re proud of her.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile. I am proud of my mom, but our relationship is complicated. Before my dad left, she only gave me the minimum amount of attention, then after she and Phil got together, she changed and showered me with love and affection. Great, right? Except I’d already learned the painful lesson that emotions make you weak, and family can be taken away from you. To say I’ve been resistant to the idea of a big happy family with Phil and my mom would be an understatement.
Phil, who whisks her away to play. Who knows how much bigger Patty Blue Cosmetics could be if Phil wasn’t always there to distract her?
Phil, who is constantly telling jokes and has to be the life of the party.
Phil, who bided his time, until my hardworking dad left town for a job opportunity he couldn’t pass up. He wasn’t so obvious about it, but I know that’s what happened.
It’s that last thing I can never forgive him for. He was like a silly-as-goose-shit snake in the grass, just waiting for his opportunity to try and take my father’s place.
Oh, I was happy enough when they first started seeing each other. He’d always been so nice to me and even taught me some of his magic tricks, what nine-year-old wouldn’t like that? But I know now that he was just using me to get to my mom. Then he took my mom away from my dad.
“Duke?”
Shit. What had she been saying? “Oh, sorry. My mind drifted for a minute. What did you say?”
“I asked if you know any magic tricks.”
“Um, a few that I learned when I was a kid.” Thankfully my dad helped me see how ridiculous wasting my time learning those tricks had been.
Dad, Dad, watch what Mr. Phil taught me.
Damn it, Duke. What have I told you about interrupting me when I’m watching game film?
Don’t do it. But, Dad, you’ve got to see this.
Fine. What’s so all-fire important?
Watch this magic trick Mr. Phil taught me.
You came running in here to show me a damn magic trick? Don’t you ever interrupt me again with something so asinine. Do you hear me?
Yes, sir.
Don’t you dare cry, boy. I will whip your ass from here to Dallas if you cry.
I’m not going to cry.
Good. Now sit down here and watch this film with me.
Thankfully, he’d shown me what a time-waster that kind of stuff was before Phil could suck me in any further.
My stepfather’s possibly the luckiest SOB on the planet and has done any number of jobs. Not because he has to work—he has a knack for picking investments. He also received an inheritance from a long-lost relative, whom he knew nothing about. Yeah, he’s that person. He’s also won the million-dollar lottery twice. It’s like he opens his arms, and things fall into them, including my mother.
A year and a half ago, Phil decided to use his love of magic and become a clown. He now spends most days at children’s hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth spreading sunshine. His words, not mine. Frankly, I find it embarrassing. Why a grown, successful man would traipse around in a red nose and oversized shoes pulling coins from kids’ ears is beyond me. If he wants to do good work, he could just make a sizeable donation.
My mom is lovable, a bit needy, and totally besotted with Phil, which grinds my gears most days. I can only take them in small doses, which is why I never stay at their house when I visit Ryder. I’ve walked in on them in various stages of undress at least five times, and believe me, once is too many.
“He’s your stepdad?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still see your real dad?”
“No. He passed away when I was a freshman in high school.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t see him much. He’d moved to Canada to coach in the Canadian Football League. Before that, he was the head coach for the Fort Worth Thunder. I’m named after him, though. John Wayne Jr. is my legal name.” I have no intention of telling her that I only saw my dad a few times from the day he left until he was in that coffin. And if I hadn’t known it was him, I wouldn’t have recognized the man.
“So why do people call you Duke—Oh, that actor’s name was John Wayne and people called him The Duke. Your dad must’ve loved westerns.”
“Yeah. He was a fan.” Wanting desperately to get off the subject of my dad, I ask, “So what’s your new life plan?”
Her shoulders hitch up and down and she gasps in pain. “I got to quit doing that. It hurts like a mother.” She maneuvers her body so she’s facing forward again. “No real plan at the moment. All I know is that I’m sick of every damn move I make being fodder for the media and sgossips. That’s why it will be nice to be in your small town for a while.”
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling, and nod.
This woman has no idea what she’s in for.