Stubborn as a Mule

by Sawyer Bennett

  It takes only a second to collect myself before I’m jumping up to help too. Morri glances inquiringly at me, but he’s in deep talk with Gerry so I give him a slight shake of my head that he should relax and continue.

  I pick up my plate, Pap’s, who is sitting to my right, and both of our empty glasses, before following Lowe and Catherine into the kitchen. Mom and son stand hip to hip at the counter, rinsing plates and laughing about something.

  “Here you go,” I say, hating to intrude, but also wanting to at the same time. I want to be up close and personal to see how a close mother-child relationship works. I never had it with my mother. Not that she was cold or unable. It’s just that our family wasn’t overly into each other due to timing issues. We loved each other… yes. But we were always doing our own things. Even as a child, I had music lessons and dance while my brothers played lacrosse and soccer. My parents had their thing with the country club, charity boards, and traveling. That’s not to say Lowe’s family didn’t have those same types of things going on, but I expect Lowe’s parents would have gone to all his football games, whereas my parents did not because they had their own things. Hell, my father traveled probably ninety percent of the time for his career and my mother went with him. We had nannies, au pairs, and housekeepers to look after us.

  And I had my grandmother, Glory. She lived in our house, the regal matriarch of the Rothschild family, but she was always there for us kids.

  Me especially because we were both female and just shared a love of certain things more than she did with my brothers.

  I love my parents. I love my brothers. But I thought the sun rose and set on my grandmother, and her loss still hasn’t quite been fully absorbed by me yet. In some ways, coming here and buying Mainer House has helped to heal the hole in my heart, but in others, it hurts in a different way because I didn’t get to share any of this stuff with her except for her dementia-induced ramblings about her childhood growing up here.

  Catherine turns to me with a warm smile, taking the dishes from my hands. “You don’t have to do that, honey.”

  “And you didn’t have to cook such an amazing and delicious meal, opening your home to me and Morri, but you did,” I tell her with a grin.

  “Touché,” she with an incline of her head, before jerking it back toward the swing-through door that separates the kitchen from the dining room. “When you go back in, ask if anyone wants a refill of coffee, please.”

  “Got it,” I say, then I’m off to see to coffee and cleaning the rest of the plates from the table.

  ♦

  “Well, got my belly full of another marvelous meal,” Pap says to his daughter-in-law as he pats his stomach. Catherine beams back at him, and it’s obvious they share a tight bond. “Better head to Chesty’s for my nightly beer.”

  Lowe, Colt, and Gerry snicker and I suspect it’s because he used the word “beer” in the singular rather than plural.

  We’d all gathered on the front porch after the kitchen was cleaned, Gerry sipping on a whiskey, the rest of us on sweet iced tea. The house had a long, wide porch that spanned the width of the structure, and was filled with rocking chairs, wicker loveseats, and a massive swing that could seat four at one end.

  “Can I catch a ride back to town with you?” Morri asks Pap.

  “Sure thing,” Pap replies as he stands.

  “What’s wrong with riding with me?” I ask Morri with a cocked eyebrow. “I brought you here.”

  “You’re coming to my house tonight,” Lowe announces, and there’s more snickering by all the men at the table except for Morri.

  Okay, that’s awkward.

  I shoot a glare across the porch at Lowe, who has been casually leaning up against the porch rail with his long legs crossed at the ankle. He shoots me an innocent look. “What?”

  I glare at him harder. “Not cool.”

  “Relax, Mely,” he says casually with a wink. “I just want you to come over for a bit and let me show you some old family photos I’ve got. Thought maybe your grandmother might possibly be in there.”

  My face flames hotter than I’ve ever felt it before, and I’m struck with a moment of relief that he didn’t just tell his family that we’d be having sex, but then, I’m immediately filled with disappointment that it didn’t look like hot sex was on the agenda tonight.

  God, Lowe is such a gentleman. It might actually be killing me with anticipation.

  Pushing off the porch rail, Lowe walks up to me and extends a hand. “Ready to go?”

  I smile up at him but I’m sure he can sense the retribution in my gaze for pulling my leg like that. Turning to look at his mom and dad sitting side by side on one of the white wicker loveseats, I say, “Thank you again for having me over for an amazing dinner.”

  “Our pleasure,” Gerry says with a nod.

  Catherine adds, “Door’s always open.”

  Morri pops up from his chair and then walks to Catherine, extending his hand. “I’m flying out of here tomorrow so not sure when I’ll see you again.”

  “Oh,” Catherine says in astonishment as she stands up, ignores Morri’s hand, and wraps him in a hug. “Well, we have so enjoyed meeting you and can’t wait for you to come back to visit.”

  Gah… this family. They are amazing.

  Gerry and Colt also stand up from their chairs. While I doubt they’re the huggy type with anyone, they each give Morri a sincere handshake, Gerry clapping Morri on the shoulder a few times.

  Morri, Pap, Lowe, and I proceed down the porch. When we reach the bottom, I yelp as Lowe’s hand drops and smacks my ass. He leans down and whispers, “I’m serious about the looking at old pictures tonight. That’s all I have planned, then I want to get you home so you can spend the rest of the evening with Morri. But that doesn’t mean we won’t make out and maybe fool around a little.”

  All the men are snickering again as they witness this, although I know they couldn’t hear what Lowe said.

  “You’re rotten,” I mutter back out of the side of my mouth.

  “And you love it,” he says confidently, his arm coming around my shoulder to pull me in close as we walk side by side.

  And I do love it.

  I really do.

  CHAPTER 21

  Lowe

  I pull the 1970’s orange Dodge Charger up to the front of Mainer House and lay on the horn.

  The first twelve notes of the song “Dixie” blare loudly. In ten seconds, Morri and Mely are out on the front porch, staring down at the car with mouths wide open.

  A few people come out of Sweet Cakes but once they see me and the General Lee replica car I’d borrowed from Floyd this morning, they turn back inside without a second glace.

  Turning the car off, I push into the seat, twist my body, and reach my hands outside the window to latch onto the roof so I can pull myself out of the car. The doors were welded shut to mimic the original car.

  Morri and Mely walk down the porch steps as I step onto the sidewalk. We all meet at the passenger side of the orange beast.

  “Your chariot has arrived,” I say as I sweep my hand toward the car. “Thought you might want to ride to the airport in style today.”

  Morri’s flight leaves late afternoon, but I decided to take the day off. We’re all going to do lunch in Raleigh first.

  Mely’s eyes are sparkling with humor but Morri just looks at me blankly, his eyes shifting once to the car, and then back to me. “What in God’s name is that thing?”

  “It’s the General Lee,” I say as I lean my butt back against the passenger door and cross my arms over my chest. “You know… from the Dukes of Hazzard.”

  Morri wrinkles his nose and says blandly, “I’ve never seen the show, but I do know what it is.”

  I pat the hood lovingly. “This right here was one of my favorite childhood shows. It was in syndication, but still… Catherine Bach in those tiny little shorts was every kids’ wet—um, well… I liked the show and all.”

  Mely’s hand comes
up to her mouth where she’s stifling a laugh. Morri just raises one of those perfectly arched brows at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “You do realize that it bears the Confederate Flag.”

  “Yup,” I say in confident affirmation. “Plays Dixie on the horn, too.”

  “Got that part,” he says dryly, then asks, “And in what universe do you think it’s cool for a black man to ride in a car that has a Confederate Flag on the top and Dixie blaring from its horn?”

  “Well, I’m glad you asked that,” I say as I push off the car and take a step toward Morri. “Did you know that the Confederate Flag wasn’t even the official flag of the Confederacy? In fact, the Confederacy went through three different flags during the Civil War, but the Confederate Battle Flag wasn’t one of them.”

  “Didn’t know that,” Morri says.

  “Now, this flag is divisive, make no doubt about it,” I continue as I slap my hand on the roof where the flag is painted. “But after the Civil War, it was mostly used to commemorate confederate veterans. True… white supremacist jackasses used it as sort of their symbol, which sadly, I think tainted its historical purpose, but there’s more behind it than slavery and racism.”

  Morri doesn’t say anything, and Mely watches with interest.

  “As for the song Dixie,” I say. “Its history is rooted in color for sure, made popular by blackface minstrelsy in the 19th century, but… it was also a favorite of Abraham Lincoln and was played at his rallies. It was also played at General Lee’s announcement when he surrendered.”

  “Really?” Morri asks with interest.

  “Really,” I say, and then I finish up by saying, “It may come as no surprise to you, but I was a history major in college. And I figure you’re a man who likes to make statements. And what better statement could be made than a black gay man driving the General Lee to Raleigh? Kind of thumbs your nose up at those who use the flag with prejudice, doesn’t it?”

  “You want me to drive?” he asks with surprise.

  “Well, that was Floyd’s idea,” I say with a grin. “This is his car. He thought you might enjoy the irony of it. He said he had a blast with you showing him your world, and thought he’d offer up a little more local flavor for you.”

  “Can I honk the horn as much as I like?” he asks with genuine interest.

  “Duh,” I say drolly. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

  “This is going to be fabulous,” Morri says, and just like that, we’re going to be making a splash today. He then turns serious as he starts to round the car, looking at it in more detail. “Now, be a love, Lowe, and get my luggage. It’s all in the foyer.”

  Mely snickers, but I don’t even bat an eye. I start toward the house, stopping by Mely only to lean down and plaster a quick kiss to her mouth before I trot up the steps of the house.

  ♦

  Turns out, Morri couldn’t drive the General Lee as it was a stick shift, and he didn’t know how. But he proudly sat in the front seat as we drove to Raleigh, the windows down and his right forearm hanging out pure redneck style as we cruised I-40 to the airport. The looks people gave us were priceless, especially because Morri chose sort of a silky, frilly blouse to wear with a pair of white, skinny pants. Frankly, he looked more out of place because of his clothes than he did because of the color of his skin.

  Regardless, he had a good time and is smiling brightly when we pull up to the front of the airport, whereby he leans over and lays on the horn one last time. It only serves to guarantee that everyone is looking at us as Morri and I pull ourselves out through the window. I then help Mely out, which is a bonus since doing so plasters her up against my front for a few seconds before I lower her to the ground.

  “I’ll get a cart,” Mely announces quickly when her feet hit the ground. “Be right back.”

  Mely darts into the sliding doors opening to the Delta counters, and I go to the back of the car with Morri to pull out his luggage.

  “Listen,” Morri says as he leans against the car while I do all the work. “You’ll be careful with Mely, won’t you?”

  I stop what I’m doing and stand up straight to look at him. “Careful?”

  “She’s falling for you,” Morri says. “Hard.”

  This news stuns me because while there is no doubt we are growing closer and closer, and it won’t be long in my opinion before we move this thing to a more intimate nature, I honestly didn’t really know how Mely felt about me. It’s not something we’ve talked about in detail, but we have a connection for sure. I guess what stuns me is that Morri feels the need to worry about this.

  “You know I wouldn’t hurt her, right?” I ask him.

  Morri rolls his eyes at me. “I’ll admit I didn’t like you at first, but any man who has enough confidence in himself—as well as knows me enough to know I wouldn’t be offended by the idea of riding in the General Lee—has to appreciate the fact that Melinda is just a really special person. Mainer House is special to her. This gorgeous state is precious to her, and I’m pretty damn sure that you might be sitting at the top of her priority list right now. I know you’d not intentionally hurt her, but I know my Mely. What she has with you is a lot deeper than anything I’ve seen before, and I’ve seen it all. If you are not feeling the same, or you aren’t ready for something serious… don’t let this go on too much longer.”

  “She’s in this for the long haul is what you’re saying?” I ask him point blank.

  “With you, yes,” Morri says unequivocally. “The way she talks about you, looks at you… she may not even know it yet, but I think you’re it for her.”

  I slide my gaze over to Mely working to feed money into the machine that holds the luggage carts. The quickening of my pulse in just looking at her tells me something.

  Looking back to Morri, I say, “I think she might be it for me as well.”

  A look of utter relief flashes in his eyes as his entire body seems to relax. He’s really worried about her, and that makes me like the dude even more.

  Mely approaches with the cart. While I load the bags, they hug it out hard. When they break apart, Morri surprises me with a hug as well, and I give it right back to him. I got more than Mely when she decided to buy Mainer House. Looks like I got a new friend too.

  Stepping into my side, Mely’s arm goes around my waist, and I bring mine around her shoulder. I squeeze her tighter when I hear her first sniffle as Morri pushes the luggage cart into the airport, looking back over his shoulder to blow her a kiss. When the sliding doors close behind him, tears are streaming down her face.

  Without thought, I turn her into my chest and let her cry for a few minutes as I rock her. She and Morri have such an easygoing relationship full of banter, and even squabbling, that I’m not sure I understood how close they are until this moment based on Morri’s worry and the reaction of Mely right now.

  Finally, she pats her hands against my back to indicate she’s done and pulls back. Rubbing her fingers under her eyes to smooth away any tears, she looks up at me. “Ready to go?”

  “Yup,” I tell her as I take her hand and lead her to the passenger window. Scooping her up, I turn to put her legs through the window. She gracefully pulls herself the rest of the way into the seat.

  I lean down, put my elbows on the edge of the window and look at her. “You okay?”

  She nods. “Yeah, sure. Going to miss that man.”

  “He’ll come back to visit,” I assure her. “And you’ll go up there.”

  “I know,” she says with a brave smile. “And I got you to distract me.”

  My lips curve deeply, and I lean in the window to give her a kiss. When I pull back, I murmur, “I’ll distract you in any way you want.”

  And damn… she shivers over my words.

  Shivers.

  Over just words.

  “Actually,” she says as she leans back just a bit so she can look better into my eyes as I’m hovering all in her space. “I have to go to Vegas day after tomorrow.”

 
“What?” I say in surprise, pulling out of the window but still leaning down so I’m eye level.

  “I got a text this morning from a friend of the family who has a winter home out there, and she wants to do a complete renovation. Wants me to come out and do a bid on it. I’ll only be gone for two days.”

  “Oh,” I say dumbly, not sure why I’m feeling a little funky about this.

  Then I realize.

  I don’t want to be without Mely.

  Not even for a day or two.

  “I’ll come with you,” I say casually, just pretty much inviting myself whether she likes it or not.

  But in a casual way.

  “You will?” she asks.

  And that’s a definite acceptance of my invitation in my mind.

  “Sure,” I say with a smile and lean in a little closer again. “Besides… you. Me. Sin city. Why wouldn’t I want to go there with you?”

  “I like the way you think, Mr. Mancinkus,” she breathes out softly and then presses her mouth to mine.

  Okay, I know it’s bad that a million dirty thoughts run through my head all at once, but mostly I’m just looking forward to a few days with this amazing woman and having her all to myself.

  CHAPTER 22

  Melinda

  “I’m pretty sure this is a bad idea,” I tell Lowe as the ride attendant pulls on my harness first, then Lowe’s.

  “It’s a great idea,” he assures me as he reaches a hand out to pat me on the top of my leg. Our seats are a foot apart on the circular base. My hand flies out and latches onto his, my fingers curling so hard he curses under his breath.

  Leaning forward so he can see past the thickly padded harness, Lowe looks at me. “You okay?”

  “I have a tiny fear of heights,” I admit to him.

  His eyebrows furrow inward. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I suggested this ride?”

  Well, probably because I was drunk and honestly, the Sling Shot didn’t look that intimidating when I was feeling all warm and fuzzy and we were just walking around all night. We’d stop into a casino and play a few games, have a few cocktails. We’d people-see. Have a few cocktails. We’d kiss. Have a few more cocktails.