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your mom's old man, Rick

Summary:

Your mama has a history of dating losers..... then she decided to give Rick a chance.
aka
gender neutral "my mom had a boyfriend that was cool to us" dream fulfillment

Notes:

This all started as a bit with my friend Larkin and I realized that I accidentally created a character that I loved so much and had to give him a nice little story
Hopefully we can all read this and pretend that we had a father figure in our lives who was nice to us <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Your mama had started dating Rick around your ninth birthday and you weren't impressed.

In his defense, you were never impressed by the guys she dated; Most of them were out the door before you even had the chance to learn their last names. None of them seemed too interested in getting to know you either; you weren’t theirs after all and they hadn’t planned on your mother being anything more serious than a few dates anyways.

 Why waste the effort?

You had adopted a similar attitude as the years went on, stopped seeing every new guy as a potential father figure and saw them for what they really were: a three week nuisance at max. 

Then she met Rick.

He had always been around, when you really thought about it. He owned the gas station on the edge of town, the one that stayed open past ten and sold Blue Bell ice cream by the pint. Needless to say, it was one of your mama’s favorite places to go after some terrible date, long shift at the mill or another of her messy breakups. After years of late nights spent chatting over the counter, she finally decided to take him up on his standing offer for a barbecue dinner. 

When you had asked her why she had simply shrugged and said

“His eyes are kind. He’s got the kind of laugh that makes you feel like laughin’….. What do you want me to say?”

You gave it a month, tops.

But then something strange happened: he stayed.

One month became two, then he started showing up for spaghetti nights and bonfires; you would wave, give a tight smile and avoid him for the rest of the evening. Not that he had done anything wrong, you just knew better than to give him the chance to do something right.

It would just make it even harder on you when he bailed. 

Then your birthday finally came

Rick had come by early on the morning of the party, rapping Shave and a Haircut into the wooden frame of the screen door. His arms were filled with paper bags and a cardboard cup holder that housed three cups of coffee from his station. You gave him your normal wave and small smile as you opened the door to let him in. He smiled back, full and warm, the corners of his eyes wrinkling.

He sat all the bags down on the dining table with a sigh and dropped himself into one of the carved wooden chairs that sat around it, the spindles of the chair back groaning slightly against his weight.

“Welp,” he said, clapping his hands, “ya mama says you’re nine today. Y’excited for your party?”

You nodded and gave him another tight smile 

“Mmhmm.”

Rick furrowed his brow, but his eyes twinkled playfully

“Now… don’t tell me you’re too cool for school already? I thought you was only turning nine, I ain’t realized that was the startin’ age for bein’ grown these days.”

He nudged one of the brown paper bags with an elbow as he pulled a crumpled pack of Camels out of the chest pocket of his bowling shirt.  

“ I guess you wouldn’t be interested in any o’ this ol’ baby stuff I brought you then, huh?”

Your curiosity was immediately piqued. Without realizing it, you leaned up onto your toes to try and peer into the bags. Your eyes went wide when you saw the bright packaging: candy, cookies and sodas all begging to be devoured, along with balloons, streamers and sparklers. 

Rick chuckled softly as he tapped his pack against his palm and pulled out a cigarette. He clamped it between his lips and said

“Why don’t you check it out, tell me if I did okay.”

Excitedly, you approached the table and started dumping bags out onto its age marred top. He must have raided his station and cleared the snack aisle for a haul this big; You could practically feel the sugar rush as your smile began to stretch into something much bigger than the one you were wearing when you opened the door.

 You were so distracted by the colorful offerings you didn’t hear your mama as she padded barefoot down the hallway. 

“Good Lord Rick, are you trying to give every kid in the neighborhood a mouth full of rotted teeth or just mine?”

You turned to see her leaning in the doorway. Her long auburn hair was twisted into hot rollers, her face was bare and she was still wrapped in her pink checkered house coat. 

Rick chuckled as he lit his cigarette, his shoulders bobbing

“Oh, come on Kathy. It’s a birthday party, not a meetin’ of the American Dental Association.”

He blew a mouthful of smoke up towards the ceiling and added, with a sly wink to you 

“How ‘bout this? The next time Short Stack here turns nine I’ll bring a veggie platter.”

Your mama rolled her eyes, but a soft smile curled the corners of her lips.

“If you want to actually be helpful, why don’t you both start hanging some streamers and blowin’ up balloons. I’m sure the cousins’ll be here any minute and you and I both know I’m not gonna have time to get my face on if I have to pretty up the house too.”

Rick blew a raspberry and waved a hand dismissively; you noticed that his ring finger was missing an inch. 

“Hell, girl! You’re prettier’n a picture already. If you get any more good looking, you’re gon’ have to start charging admission just to look atcha.”

Your mama laughed and crossed the room to plant a kiss on Rick’s forehead. You couldn’t help but groan with disgust at the show of affection. She turned and held up her hands defensively

“Okay,okay. That’s enough from the peanut gallery. I’m gonna finish up with my paint job an’ polish. You two try and make a dent in this decoratin’ for me, pretty please?”

She gave Rick a small peck on the lips and then headed back down the hall, ruffling your hair and giving you a bright smile as she passed. You watched her drift back into the bathroom , her robe swishing behind her; now only the faint smell of her perfume remained in the room with you and Rick

“ ‘ Spose we better get to it ‘fore your mama gets done.” He spit into his palm and snuffed out  his half-finished cigarette, tucking the leftover half behind his ear. Suddenly, as if he had remembered something important, he gave a small gasp and held up a finger.

“Almost forgot, I got you a little something. Didn’t get a chance to wrap it, hope you don’t mind.”

He peered down into his shirt pocket and fished out a bright green piece of plastic.

Your brow knitted with confusion

Rick chuckled

“It's a guitar pick, I'm gonna teach you how to play. Practically every event can be improved with Skynerd: parties, funerals. Hell, you could even start your own band, play at the Mason’s hall, you put y'mind to it and I ask Tom with ‘bout a week’s notice .”

He held the pick out towards you and you stepped forward to grab it, murmuring your gratitude.

Rick looked at you thoughtfully for a moment,  as if making sure to phrase himself just right.

“You're an alright kid..... and I wanna thank you for sharing your mama’s time with me.

I've known ‘er long enough to know I'm ain't the first feller to come along and promise her the moon, so I know you don't got a reason to trust me. But I’m hoping I can earn your trust one of these days. Meantime, I figure the least I can do is share something I love with you: music.”

He nodded towards the hallway

“Y' mama's a special lady and I aim to treat her right for as long as she'll let me.” 

He gave you a grin, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

He pulled one of the cups of coffee out of the cardboard carrier and set it on the edge of the table closest to you. He nodded towards the cup.

“Now, I wasn't sure how you took your coffee, but I figure it's one of those things we can learn about each other as we go. How's it sound, Short Stack? Y'interested? ”

You clutched the guitar pick tightly and thought about what he had said, studying him with a skeptical expression.

Your mama had been very happy. And he'd lasted longer than any of the other fellas.

What the hell  You thought and you grinned back at him, 

He'd finally impressed you.

**************

It had been eight years since Rick had started teaching you how to play guitar. You hadn’t joined a band yet, but you had been the star of every church pageant since, which made your mama very happy, of course.

 Unfortunately, this had done very little to help you fit in at school. Which was why, you had reasoned, you had no choice but to say yes when Jamie Whitaker had asked you for help scoring weed. You knew a guy in the rv park, Tim something-or-other, was holding and was pretty reasonable when it came to pricing. So you headed over after school, stowing your bike behind an overgrown clump of pampas grass near the hitch of his trailer.

A tall, lank haired old hippie type had let you inside, directing you towards a sheet covered couch while he headed towards the back of the trailer . You heard the soft click of a door shutting, leaving you in the silence of the still trailer. 

After what felt like an eternity, but was more than likely only five or so minutes in reality, you heard the back door squeak open. The old man emerged from the hallway, a large paper bag under his arm. Your eyes widened. Had there been some misunderstanding? He didn’t  expect you to pay for all this, did he?

Upon noticing your distress, the older man gave a soft gasp and chuckled 

“Oh no, kid. This ain’t for you. It’s fer my next appointment.” He squinted at the clock on the wall behind you.

“He should be here any minute.”

As if on cue, there was knocking at the front door. 

Shave and a Haircut

The old hippie smiled and nodded towards the door

“Well, speak of the devil, I ‘spose. Let him in , will ya?”

You stood and started towards the door without thinking; you had the feeling that rocking the boat wasn’t the best idea when it came to drug dealers, no matter how nice a guy the man seemed to be.

The last person you were expecting to see standing on the moss covered front porch of the dealer’s trailer was Rick. But there he was, in all his leather skull capped glory, sizing you up with a grin on his face. Your mouth fell open and you stammered, trying to formulate an excuse that would explain your presence. He held up a hand and took a long drag off his cigarette. Leaning his head back, he blew out a mouthful of smoke and threw his butt towards a nearby half-filled bird bath.

“Listen, I was runnin’ some errands and happened to be coming by on my last stop. Why don’t you wait out here and I’ll be out in 2 shakes. Give you a ride back home, what’d you say?”

You were too stunned to formulate a response, so you nodded. Rick laughed again and clapped a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. He pulled the door shut behind him, giving you a small wave through the window as he headed in to speak with Tim.

With nothing for you to do but stand around and wonder how much trouble you were going to be in, you waited, toeing at a piece of dry rotted porch railing. After a few minutes, Rick reemerged, the large paper bag under his arm. He gave you a grin and nodded towards his truck, a battered Tacoma, and shook his keys in his pocket.

“Alright, let’s roll. I think ya mama’s makin’ Sloppy Joes tonight.”

You furrowed your brow, but said nothing and followed him, climbing in the passenger’s seat among the discarded fast food wrappers and cigarette ash filled water bottles. He started the car and pulled out onto the main road; he drove in silence for a few moments before drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel and sighing.

“Well, kid, I guess you coulda done a worse job o’ picking where to buy your weed from. Tim’s a good fella, been buying from him for years. Flower’s good and his prices are better than anything else you're gonna find this side of the county line. And he’s reliable too. Which is exactly why he called me when you showed up at his door.”

“Listen, I -”

You started, then stopped yourself. You didn’t have an excuse that sounded reasonable, You twisted at the string on your hoodie and stared at the center console instead.

Rick laughed and waved a hand at you dismissively, leaning over to change stations on the radio.

“Kid, I’m the last feller to give you static about buyin’ a little weed. Hell, what did you think I’ve been smoking on the back porch all these years?” He threw you a sidelong glance and laughed again, a wheezy chuckle.

The truck grumbled to a stop at a red light and he turned to study you 

“I’m just glad it was me who found out about this, ‘stead of ya mama. She….worries about you.”

Rick reached up and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the visor, plucking one out and lighting it. He rolled his window down and blew out a mouthful of smoke, ashing it in a half full Coke can before he continued. 

“But, I ‘spose worryin’ is her job. Me, on the other hand, I know you’re a smart kid.”

You stole a quick glance up from the center console; Rick had started driving again but he still had a playful grin on his lips. 

“I also know that if you were just lookin’ for a little smoke you coulda raided my coffee can, so I gotta know something…”

He leaned to check his sideview mirror before throwing his blinker on and turning onto your street. You watched the familiar houses go by, dreading whatever question Rick had for you. 

Finally, the truck rolled down the driveway, crackling over the gravel. Rick parked right behind your mama’s rusted white Taurus and killed the engine. 

He gave you a quick glance as he took a final drag off his Camel before flipping it out the window. 

“D’ya think this’ll be enough to impress the Whittaker kid, or are you gonna bring y’ guitar with you?”

Your eyes went wide; How did he know about Jamie’s party?

“Don’t look so spooked, I ain’t a mind reader. Y’ mama and I was talkin’ and … hell, I think it’s great that you’re gettin’ outta yer room and socializin’. Just make sure that Jamie knows the next time won’t be on your dime.”

Your brow crinkled with confusion 

“I don’t understand…”

Rick reached under the seat of his truck to grab the big brown paper sack that Tim had given him. He opened the top and fished around inside for a few seconds before producing a smaller brown paper bag. He held it out to you, his face now serious

“Now, I asked Tim to getcha somethin’ nice an’ mild; real training wheels shit. But, if you or anybody else starts having a bad time, or has any questions, call me. Ya mama’s workin’ an overnight, so you don’t have to worry about gettin’ busted.”

You took the bag, the heady smell of the weed inside nearly making you cough. You weren’t quite sure what to say. You studied Rick for a moment, wondering how it was that he had come to mean so much to you. He had come into your life rather unexpectedly ,somehow transforming from just another one of your mama’s boyfriends into her old man. A fixture in both your lives; unexpected and a bit odd, but a welcome addition to your small family. And in all that time, he had never broken his word to you. 

 He had never stopped trying, never stopped showing up. And he had made your mama very happy.

“Thanks Rick. I don’t really know what to say”

Rick grinned and mussed your hair

“I think ‘oh my god Rick you’re the coolest guy ever’ would work.”

You laughed, loud and sarcastic, but Rick’s laugh was genuine and warm.

 You realized your mama was right, as she often was: he did have the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh right along with him.

So you did.

Notes:

If even one person would be interested in more Rick, please let me know 🙏 I love this Lil guy so much and would be more than happy to write more!