118 - Pre Coffee Call

*You know, come to think of it, I hardly drank any coffee before I had any of you. Now I need an IV drip. – Sid*

The current situation in the world of Covid-19 pandemic pandemonium had very few upsides. But one of which was the nearly empty stores. Camille moved through the store collecting what she needed. In the hair care section, she found most of what Michaela had sent her. There was one conditioner that she was having a hard time finding.

“That product will tear up your hair,” a dark-skinned woman in a Walmart vest said. “It’s going to leave your hair really greasy.”

“Oh, its for my adopted daughter,” Camille flipped through the pictures on her phone and found one of all three of the kids.

“They’re precious,” the woman smiled. “What are you looking for?”

A little over twenty minutes later, they parted way and Camille had alternatives to the products that Michaela recommended. And the number of the woman, Guinivere, who said to call her if Camille had any questions.

Camille assumed that this was the international sisterhood of moms that her own mother would always refer to. And speaking of Sid, Camille finished checking out and headed for her Jeep to call her mother. With everything loaded in the back of the Wrangler, she called Sid.

“Good morning,” came Sid’s groggy voice. “Trigg, go make coffee.”

“Love you, baby girl,” Trigg said into the phone.

“Love you too, daddy,” Camille laughed.

“Ok, so we know that I’m not fully functioning without coffee,” Sid told her daughter. “So, if you’re looking for anything that I’m going to have to think about, you’re in trouble.”

“It’s actually going to be to my advantage,” Camille told her. “You can’t bullshit me this early in the morning.”

“I’m in trouble.”

She gave her mom the same basic rundown that she had given Carly. Sid listened carefully and let her youngest child spew out all her word vomit. Then when she finally stopped, Sid asked some very thoughtful questions showing that she was not as useless without her morning coffee as she always claimed.

“I will say that Carly is right, you’ve got this.”

“Are you going to say it’s because I reached out?”

“Partially,” Sid laughed. “Thanks, babe. Camille, I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Your dad is here too.”

“I’m getting worried,” Camille admitted.

“Baby girl,” Trigg said, “Did you ever wonder why we let you go live at the Shack?”

This was not a conversation that she had ever expected to have over the phone as she sat in the Walmart parking lot in Baton Rouge, Louisiana as the sun was barely coming up. She opened her bottle of water and took a big drink. It gave her nerves a chance to settle.

“It’s because the musketeers were all there,” she finally said.

“No, baby girl,” Trigg said, and Camille imagined him shaking his head.

“We considered all options,” Sid told her, “Charlotte offered to take you. Molly and his pretties would have loved if you went to live with them. Even Claire and Viper offered to take you.” She chuckled, “Bambi threatened Crow, and he smartly said that you could live with them.”

“Threatened?” Trigg laughed. “She told him that he would never get close to her pussy ever again and she would tell every club bunny that he had the clap, genital warts and blue waffles. I did not know what blue waffles were. Do yourself a favor, do not Google it.”

“I really want to google it, now.”

“Don’t,” Sid warned.

“Okay,” Camille laughed as she grabbed her phone and opened the search bar.

“Trust me, Camille, you’re going to regret it if you search that up,” her mother warned one last time.

Closing the search bar, she sat the phone back down and took another drink.

“We had a meeting with Carly and then we also met with a few of your teachers,” Sid continued from where she had left off. “Allison had already ruined your reputation at the school. We had to move you completely. So, it would have been Charlotte, Molly or the Shack. Charllotte had a teenager and a toddler and two in between.”

“And no offense, but your insomnia does not do well at Molly’s house,” Trigg told her.

All the kids in the Lowery household went to bed at the same time. You did not have to go to bed, but you did have to go to your room. When Camille spent the night, she would get restless and would end up going to the courtyard, the Christmas room or Beck’s office to read. More than once, Camille had walked in on Molly with a pretty, or two, or more. Or Becks with a pretty.

“Yeah, understatement,” Camille agreed dryly.

“For you to move into the Shack, it had to go before the brothers. We were asking for a teenage girl to move into a biker’s clubhouse,” Trigg explained.

“You know, that might not have been your finest moments or best decisions,” Camille pointed out.

“On the surface,” Trigg chuckled, “you’re right.”

“And I think it may have backfired some because they all became a little too protective,” Sid said, and Camille could see her mother giving Trigg a death glare.

“Yeah,” she agreed with her mother.

“But,” Sid continued, “it forced you out of your shell. If you had gone to any of your sisters or even Molly, they would have let you stay in your books. Baby, you need to put the books down sometimes. This is one of those times.”

“Baby girl,” Trigg said, and Camille leaned her head back against the seat as she hugged herself, picturing it being her dad who was hugging her. “We have nine of you kids. Nine. And all of you are grown and the hell out of this house. And of the nine of you, so far, you are the only one that has not moved back in. You’re welcome to if you ever need to.”

Camille chuckled because she could just imagine moving in with her parents at this point. She would come with a dog, husband and three kids. Three teenagers. Yet, her parents would welcome them all with open arms and hearts.

“After more than thirty years of raising kids, I can tell you that it never gets better. Never gets easier. Each kid is different. Rules get made and broken and remade,” Trigg warned. “But it’s always an adventure. And when they hug you and tell you that they love you, it’s all worth it.”

“Even before Taz moved in and Kevin started training her there at the Shack, the guys were teaching you to fight. And it was not just to protect yourself,” Sid told her. “You still retreated to your alcove. You still hid. But you were becoming confident.”

“That doesn’t mean that boxing will be the end all, cure all,” Trigg interjected. “But it’s a good place to start. You’ll have to find what works for each one of them.”

After a few more minutes, they ended the call and Camille put the Jeep in gear and headed towards the house. Approaching the light that she should have turned at to get to the new house, she moved over a lane and prepared to turn in the opposite direction. A few minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot for the sporting goods store.

They were still closed, but walking up to the door, she snapped a picture of their website. It was time for her to get back into the swing of working out. And a perfect way for her and Darkness to bond with the kids.

With Tink sleeping in the back seat, she headed home.