Chapter 270: Patch
*Bring your ass over, boy. Bring breakfast. – Patch*
Chance punched in his code to his uncle’s house to bypass the keyed lock and opened the door. He was immediately greeted by Roxy, a pit bull that was rescued from a dog fighter that Patch was rehabilitating. Her gray scarred body wiggled with excitement as she made scratchy barking noises.
“Hey girl.” Chance smiled at the dog. He scratched her bouncing rump as he tried to get inside the house. “Let me in and I’ll give you a hash brown.”
“Bribery will get you everywhere with that one.” Jaye said coming over to help. “Come on, Roxy." She snapped twice and the dog went and sat at the woman’s feet. The dog sat on her haunches, looking at the woman as if she hung the moon.
Or at least knew where the treat jar was.
Jaye was what would be considered heavy set, but Chance knew that she was in very good shape. Like many of the others on Cookie’s crew, you did not want to get into a fight with her. Chance was man enough to admit that he had lost more than one arm wrestling match to his aunt.
She wore faded jeans and a light gray t-shirt under an open blue and black plaid flannel shirt. Hot pink crocks were on her feet matching the bright pink highlights in her short gray hair. Her dark green eyes were eyeing the McDonald’s bag in his hand.
“I guess that bribery will get me everywhere with you too?” Chance asked with a grin.
“Damn straight it will. Cookie is on a diet for his wedding.” She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen. “Which means the whole crew is on a diet for his wedding.” Jaye gave a small laugh. “Finally get Karan to quit dieting and now he’s all worried about how he’ll look. Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” They went through the swinging doors into the large kitchen. “They’re a pair.”
“Just not sure what they’re a pair of.” His uncle chuckled.
Patch sat at the large iron and wood table in the corner where two banks of windows met. The floors were slate gray with black rugs by the sink and stove. The lower cabinets were bright blue, and the upper cabinets were bright white with pine open shelves. Butcher block counter tops backed up to white mosaic tiles with black grout.
“It looks good in here, Jaye.” Chance said looking at the newly remodeled kitchen.
“Thanks.” She said handing him a large coffee cup with a Dalmatian face on it. “I’m not washing dishes, use the wrappers.”
Chance sat at the table and looked over at the gaping hole in the lower cabinet by the sink.
“Dishwasher is on backorder.” Patch said putting the newspaper and his crossword puzzle away. “Jaye, have you met his woman.”
“Not yet.” She answered as Chance pulled food out of the bag. “She like the house?”
“Overall, yes.” He played with a hash brown tearing it into smaller pieces. Finally, his aunt took it away and began to drop the pieces on the floor for Roxy.
“Whatever you say, stays here between us and the dishwasher.” Patch told his nephew with a smirk.
Jaye couldn’t help but smile as the two men shared the same facial expressions.
“She called me out on my… my… fuck, on me. Said that I took what I wanted and only thought of myself.” He started tearing up a napkin. “I never thought of the bunnies as anything other than a woman looking to get fucked. Sorry, Jaye.”
“Not to brag, but I can fucking hold my own with a damned construction crew.” She smiled at him. “Keep going, I’ll let you know when I get offended.”
“I’m sure that you’ve heard about Elle.” Chance said and the couple laughed. “Yeah,” he sighed and rolled his eyes, “everyone has. I haven’t been with a woman since. And I’ve been hanging out with Rye.”
“You really do like her.” Patch said reaching over and squeezing his wife’s hand.
“I do.” Chance absently scratched Roxy behind her ear that was almost completely gone. “I just don’t know how to help her.”
“With what?” Jaye asked gently.
“She was abused. Her mother was bipolar and quit taking her medicine. Then she, let’s say, self-medicated, with anything she could find. When she was fourteen, her mother was going to sell her virginity for six months’ rent.”
“Oh my God.” Jaye murmured. Patch muttered something under his breath. When she looked at her husband, he simply shook his head.
“Her older sister protected her, let the men have her, locked Rye in a closet. She can’t go into a closet. She doesn’t want to owe anyone anything. Drives this godawful shit brown Volvo.”
“I heard Gearhead talking about it.” Patch shook his head. “No heat, might have been okay down in Georgia, but kind of need that up here.”
“Why did she come up here?” Jaye asked.
Chance let out a sigh as he moved to another napkin. They sat in the silent kitchen with the only sound being made by the tearing of the napkin for several minutes. Patch had learned patience working with abused animals. Perfected it when he started volunteering at the North Star Ranch.
Jaye did not have the patience of her husband. But she had learned that the Lowery men when only talk when they were ready. She unwrapped her egg mcmuffin and began to eat. Occasionally, she would drop a piece of hashbrown on the floor for Roxy.
“Her sister was living up here and had a baby. Fourteen weeks early. Addicted to heroin. Abandoned by his mom. Rye just told me that Michael is not her son last week.”
He picked up another napkin and started ripping it apart. “She is finishing her teaching degree virtually. Her scholarship covers tuition and fees. Rye pays for everything else. Worked two jobs down there. Works full time at the daycare, spends as much time as possible with Michael and is still maintaining a 3.8 GPA.”
“She sounds great.” Jaye smiled.
Chance looked at his aunt. “She is. In fact, Rye is wonderful.”
