The Detective

Chapter 4 - Noot-Noot

After work, I drove out to Durham to visit my parents. Even though it was only thirty miles away from my apartment in Raleigh, it felt like an eternity with rush hour traffic. Raleigh and Durham bled closer and closer to each other as commercial zoning spread out wider each year. It wouldn't be long before there was zero distinction at all. As chaotic as traffic was, it was still the only place I would ever call home. Raleigh-Durham was the only metropolis I knew of where bootlegging moonshine was still considered a profession and whole-hog smoking was a way of life. In fact, I'm pretty sure there was an unwritten rule that in order to be considered a true resident, one had to host at least one annual pig-pickin'. Considering the population, crime was at a minimum, and most acts of violence started and ended with college basketball.

Mom and Dad still lived in the same house I grew up in, on a now coveted thirteen acres just outside the city limits. When I pulled in the gravel driveway of the two-story farmhouse, I parked next to my sister Lara's minivan near the steps of the white front porch.

"Knock, knock," I announced as I walked in the front door.

"In the kitchen!' my mother called out.

I slipped off my boots by the door and walked down the kitchen toward the smell of a roast in the oven. The swinging door from the family room flew open and my three foot nephew, Carter, slid across the hardwood floor in his socks toward me. "Unca Nate!"

I laughed and scooped him up in my arms. "Hey, bud."

He grabbed my nose and pinched it as I carried him into the kitchen. Chocolate—I hoped—was smeared across his cheeks. "Momma says you don't wuv us anymo'ah."

My sister and his mother, Lara, was chopping a tomato on the island. Her mouth fell open. "I said no such thing!"

I blinked with disbelief.

Carter tugged on my nose again. "She says you'ah too busy being a big shot detective to come an' bisit us anymo'ah."

"Is that so?" I asked.

He nodded.

Lara gasped. "Carter!"

I lowered my voice. "Your momma's a little bit coo-koo."

He giggled and covered his mouth with his hands. I kissed his temple before putting him down. He clung to my leg and sat down on my boot.

I looked at my sister. "Talkin' shit, huh?"

"Nathan, watch your mouth!" she shrieked with mock horror.

Mom walked in the back door with a large jar of canned green beans. Her white hair was pulled back and she was wearing the maroon sweater I'd gotten her for Christmas. "Hi, son." She came over and kissed my cheek.

"Hi, Mom."

She pushed the jar against my chest. "I'm glad you're here. Open this."

I smirked as she walked to the stove. "It feels so good to be needed."

She laughed. "Oh, shut up. I'm feeding you, aren't I?"

The jar popped open and let out a soft hiss. "Yeah, yeah." I handed her the jar.

"Shut up!" Carter repeated.

Lara shook her head. "Nice going, Nana."

Mom put her hand over her mouth. "I forgot he was in here."

"Carter, go play in the living room with your trucks. Nana has a potty mouth," Lara said.

Carter obediently got up and ran out of the room.