The Best of Forevers by Hargrove A.M. & Hargrove A.M

Author:Hargrove, A.M. & Hargrove, A.M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UAN Publishing
Published: 2020-06-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Special

My Vespa rumbles into the driveway of the old farmhouse. A dog barks, running up to me with her tail wagging. Actually, her entire butt wags. “Hey, Mokey, what’s going on, girl?” I scratch behind her ears, her favorite place. Her gray muzzle rubs my thigh and I mentally calculate her age. Fifteen. I was eight when we got her. She’s an old thing for a dog, but even though she moves a bit slow, she’s still going strong.

Mokey follows me up to the front porch and into the house.

“Spesh, did you let that smelly old hound inside?” It’s like my grandmother has a sixth sense when it comes to that dog.

“She’s old, Mimi, and needs to rest inside.”

“Mokey can’t tell the difference between the house and the barn. She’s a dumb old dog.”

“Maybe, but she’s my dumb old dog.”

“No, she’s not. She’s mine,” a squeaky voice yells from the back of the house.

“Cody! How’s it going, my man?”

“Good, but Mokey told me she was my dog now.” My heart squeezes at the sound of his tiny voice. I bend down to give him a tight hug, and his soft dark curls tickle my cheek. Cody is going on six years old, and the world belongs to him, or so he thinks. Every time I look at his caramel eyes, my ribs nearly break under the weight of my aching heart as I experience the loss of his mother all over again. Sasha would be so proud of him.

“She did, huh?”

His little head bobs up and down. “Yep. The other day by the barn. I want her to sleep with me too. So the monsters can’t get me.”

“There aren’t any monsters in here, but Mokey sleeping with you is a good idea.”

“Spesh, don’t you dare put those ideas into his head,” Mimi shouts from the kitchen. “Don’t you tell him it’s okay if Mokey sleeps inside.”

Cody looks at me and we fist bump. Then I say, “Hey, big guy, why don’t you run outside and play for a little while? But don’t go far. Okay?”

He tears out the front door and I beeline into the kitchen.

Mimi’s at the stove, as usual. I move in for a hug and a kiss. There’s nothing better than a Mimi hug, in my opinion.

“You’re late, Honey Bear.” That’s her nickname for me, because she said I was sweet as honey. I used to come home from school, crying my eyes out when I was little, because I was teased unmercifully over my name. My idiot of a mother never once thought of the ramifications I would face being named Special. At school it was “Special T” or “Special of the Day” or “you really think you’re Special, don’t you?” Then they’d add, “Oh, that’s right, you are!” Then the cackles would begin.

Mimi begged my mother to change it, but she refused, saying I was the most special thing she’d ever seen. What a dumb ass, is all I have to say about that.

Finally when I was older, she agreed, only she was never around long enough to do anything about it.

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