by J. M. Adele
“He has a roof over his head, food on his plate, and clothes on his back. What’s to be unhappy about?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, and I don’t need permission.” Grey pushed back from the table. Turning to leave, he saw the disbelief and hurt on the other faces around the table. “Sorry.” The apology broke over his tongue, cracking into pieces. What else could he say?
“If you’re going, go now. And don’t come back,” his father bit out.
Sophia shot to her feet. “No, Papà!”
Greyson left the room to a flurry of cries and protests. His brother attempted to calm Sophia down, and his Nonna wept. Devastated to witness such a scene for the second time.
He retreated up the stairs, anger and guilt quaking in his flesh.
You knew this would happen.
Greyson closed his bedroom door, bracing his back against it. He shut his eyes, seeing it all play out again. Maybe it was a stupid thing to blindside everyone when they were gathered in one room. Of course, it all went to shit. He should’ve spoken to them individually. Warned them before telling his Papà, knowing he’d react the way he did. Well, at least there’d be no drawn out goodbyes.
A soft knock at the door vibrated through the back of his skull where it rested.
“Grey? Can I come in?”
He opened the door and waved his mother in, before grabbing his suitcase out of the closet.
“Don’t feel bad.”
He cast a withering look over his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t feel bad. I just wish you had warned me.”
“Sorry. I guess … I had to let it out.”
“It’s okay.”
Grey’s laugh held no humor.
“It’ll be okay,” she corrected.
Throwing clothes haphazardly into the case, Grey’s mind sought out the right words to say to her. But his brain had already vacated, and was urging his body to follow. The case was half full before he realized his mother had gone quiet. He turned around and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, silent tears rolling down her face as she watched him pack. Cursing under his breath, he went to her, wrapping his big arms around her thin frame. She shook, still containing the sound of her anguish.
“Ugh, sorry. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to do this, but it’s always hard for a mother to watch her children go. We’ve been lucky to have you for this long.” She raised her hand to his face, watery eyes fixed on his. “I knew from the time you were a little boy that you weren’t made for this place, and that one day you’d leave. You were so determined to learn, and so passionate about food. And you never liked the chores Papà gave you. You should be proud that you have the courage to chase your passions. I am proud of you.” She dropped her hand, wiping away her tears. “I don’t want you to worry about us. Just concentrate on working hard and finding your place.”
“I will.” He gave her a gentle squeeze and let her go, rising to his feet. “I promise to honor you, Mama.”
“You already have, Grey. Please be safe. Do you have enough money?”
“Yeah. I’m covered. Thanks.”
“Stay until morning. I don’t like you driving these roads at night.”
His face twisted in a grimace. One more night under his father’s roof? Hell, no. “I think I need to get going. I’ll find a motel somewhere.”
Her shoulders rose as she sighed in resignation. “Okay. I’ll see you out front.”
A soft tap sounded on the door just before she opened it to leave.
“Hi, Lory. Come on in.” Looking back at Grey, his mama smiled a sad smile and left him with his guest.
Grey shoved his hands in his pockets, watching his friend and neighbor take in the suitcase, and the empty closet. Her big blue eyes widened and fixed on him, a puff of breath escaping her parted lips in place of words she apparently couldn’t find.
Remaining upright became a challenge as his legs hollowed out, drained of the flight reflex. “Lory. I was going to tell you.”
“In a text? A phone call? When were you going to tell me?”
“I wasn’t supposed to leave for a couple of weeks, but my father is bootin’ me out. He’s pissed.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” She stood in the doorway, arms hanging loose by her side as she watched him, unguarded.
He dragged his fingers through his hair, unable to pull together a good enough apology or excuse. What a fucking mess. She didn’t deserve this. He’d known Lory and her brother, Clay, since they were babies. Her family owned the property on the south and west borders of his father’s land. They’d been farming here for several generations already, by the time his Nonno bought the land. One of Mississippi’s founding farming families, they were royalty around these parts. But the Carters were like family to him.
Lory drifted over to the bed and sat down, wedging her hands together between her knees. Her long hair fell forward to curtain her face in dark blonde, as she dropped her gaze to the floor. Moving to kneel in front of her, Grey caught the vacant look in her eyes. Leaning back on his heels, he rubbed his hands on his thighs, a little surprised that she was taking it this hard.
“You’re not really surprised, are you? You know I hate it here.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “But you love your family. I didn’t expect—” the words cut off with a choke.
She covered it with a cough that reached out and punched him square in the chest.
“I have to go. I’m sorry. Tell Clay … tell him I’ll see him around. And tell him to keep that Jake Johnson from sniffin’ around you. He’s trouble, Lory. Don’t go gettin’ mixed up with him.”
“You don’t have a say in the matter now, do you?” Her drenched, bloodshot eyes narrowed accusingly.
No, he didn’t. But he’d sure as hell be telling Antonio to keep that fucker in check while he was gone. Keeping assholes away from Lory had been a sport he’d played with Clay since they were kids, even though he knew for a fact she had a mean left hook.
“I know you can look after yourself. You might look delicate, but you’re a steel magnolia, darlin’.”
To his surprise, Lory lurched forward and clamped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight before she ran out the door. He sank down to lie on his back.
It was official. He was the biggest asshole in Mississippi.
Time to skip town.
A Tall Drink of Water
Chelsea stretched her arms above her head, yawning as she followed the smell of cheesy grits and biscuits wafting through the house. “Mornin’, Mama.”
“Mornin’, darlin’. How’d you sleep?”
Her mother stood at the stove, stirring the food. Blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and her signature pink, frilly apron tied around a slightly generous waist to protect her nightgown.
Chelsea leaned in to give her mama a kiss on the cheek, and snuck a biscuit off the cooling rack on the bench. “Ow, ow, ow!” She juggled the hot treat from one hand to the other, before dropping it back.
“Silly girl, when are you gonna learn some patience?”
Her mother pulled a plate from the cupboard and placed the offending biscuit on top, with some steaming grits, before handing it back to Chelsea. “Here. Sit down and savor it. It’ll be your last southern breakfast for a while. They don’t make ‘em like this up at that fancy college of yours.”
Chelsea removed her stinging fingers from her mouth with a pop, and plonked herself at the table. The corners of her lips took a downturn as she thought about having to leave tomorrow. It didn’t feel right. Leaving here was always hard, but this time, some invisible current had her in its grip. There was a hum in her blood, luring her away. She wanted to spit out some gum and glue herself to the southern ground.
“I could always make my own, now that I’m moving out of the dorm.”
Chelsea swore she heard a snort escape, as her mama’s eyes narrowed. “Am I going to have to worry about your safety while you’re gone? I don’t want you burning
anything down.”
“It’s a possibility. Maybe I can swap cooking duty for cleaning the bathroom or somethin’? My new roommates will probably beg me to stop once they taste my cooking. I hope my new place has a comfy mattress. I’m so done with the one in the dorm.” Her shoulders shook in an exaggerated shudder. “I’ve been walkin’ around like I’ve been rode hard and put away wet. I need a rest.”
Mama tutted, pursing her lips. “I’ll be dead before I get used to your filthy mouth. You are no southern lady. Where did I go wrong?”
“It’s my protective mechanism. It keeps away the weak-hearted.”
“It weakens my heart.”
“It certainly weakens the hearts of men.”
“Oh, good Lord. This is why I need medication.”
“I’m yankin’ your chain.” She grinned. “I’m sure gonna miss this place.”
“This place will miss you too, honey.” Her mother’s voice wavered and faded out as she hid her face from Chelsea.
She knew they were both referring to more than just their location.
“Only one more year, Mama,” she said softly, feeling a swell of love for the woman.
Her mother turned off the stove and joined her at the breakfast table. “One more year and then you’ll get a job, travel, meet people. Don’t be in a rush to get back home. There’s not much doin’ here, sugar. Enjoy the ride while you’re young.”
The mouthful of cheesy goodness lost its flavor as she watched her mama’s lip quiver, betraying her brave façade. Chelsea admired the woman more than anyone. It had always been just the two of them. They’d moved from Texas six years before, but that was a life she wished she could forget. Her mama had struggled, working two jobs, trying to keep the roof over their heads. Sometimes, their dinner plates had gone empty. She’d been so tired she barely had the energy to smile at Chelsea, let alone spend quality time with her.
Chelsea had spent too many brain-numbing nights next door, playing with old Mrs. Neaman’s cat, and waiting for her mama to come and get her, until she couldn’t take it anymore. One moment of reckless stupidity had her climbing out the window, drawn to the nearest trouble she could find. She started hanging with the older kids, spending time at the nearest take-out joint, smoking and talking shit. That’s where she met Beth, another escapee.
They’d chased trouble until Chelsea found herself in a deep, dark hole. It felt like nothing could pull her out. She still couldn’t recall how they’d ended up separated. Her memories of the events of that night slipped through her grasp whenever she tried to remember. It was the impressions on her senses that dug the deepest. The way her body had felt... like it was detached from her brain, too sluggish to follow the messages fired through her synapses. She recalled covering her nose with her shirt to filter the smoke from the bonfire as she struggled for breath. But the lights … the flash of red and blue lights still played the most vividly in her nightmares, tethering her to the past like the heaviest of chains.
“Where have you been, young lady?”
Silently, she’d stood on the porch, squinting blurred, tear soaked eyes under the harsh light over the front door.
“Chelsea, you’re scaring me. What happened?”
The look on her mama’s face as it morphed from anger to concern—
“Something bad has happened, Mama. Real bad.”
—and finally, horror … that would remain etched in her memories forever.
Lead coated her gut as she remembered how she’d put her mother through hell. They’d moved to Alabama to start afresh. Best damn decision her mama had made. It didn’t erase the past, but it softened the jagged edges of the scars left behind.
She ordered her cheeks to hitch up. “I’m enjoyin’ the ride. Don’t you worry. I’ve met plenty of nice folks. I just miss home, that’s all.” Chelsea made swirly patterns in the gooey mixture on her plate, trying to wipe away the memories. “Besides, six years ago you were telling me the opposite. Telling me to settle down …”
“I know. It’s hard for me to think of—” Her mama’s throat bobbed, collapsing on the words as a hand flew to her chest. She gathered her composure, wriggling in her seat. “I’m just concerned you’re trying to squash your free spirit. Don’t ever do that, honey. Find a balance.”
They ate in silence while Chelsea processed the advice. She’d done everything she could to try to undo the damage she’d caused. Getting a scholarship to college was her way of repaying her karmic debt, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to be away.
“This’ll always be home. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
Even as she said it, she wasn’t sure if she believed it. Fingers of doubt slid over her collar bone, pulling her back, telling her to hold her plans. Change was coming. She jerked a shoulder to dislodge the sensation.
“Besides, what would y’all do without me making life interesting?” Taking her empty plate to the kitchen to wash, she sent her mother a smile across the kitchen counter, and got a frown in return. “Speaking of which, I’m gonna go see if Angel wants to do something, seeing as it’s my last day here, and all.”
Chelsea skipped over and wrapped her arms around her mother’s slim shoulders, giving her another kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
She received a pat on the arm and a cautious smile, sending her on her way. Chelsea was determined to make her mama proud, but she had one last day of freedom, and fun was calling her name.
_____
Looking out of the café window at all the mom and pop businesses in town, Chelsea relished every sight, smell, and sound, packing them in her heart so she could revisit them while she was away.
There was no place like it.
She laughed at herself, tempted to check her feet for sparkly red pumps.
Taking another sip of her sweet tea, she surveyed her friend, Angel, as she ate her bagel. With raven hair and pale skin gifted by her father, and green eyes and features as her mother’s legacy—God rest her soul—Angel presented a delicate beauty befitting her name.
Angel knew about deep, dark places. That’s where they met as teenagers. At the bottom of that hole. By the time Chelsea got to town, Angel had lost her mama, and the love of her life. The first, tragically taken too young by a drunk driver out of control, and the second, forced to leave by an egotistical snake in the grass.
Together, they’d latched onto and dragged each other out. Chelsea guessed that’s why Angel’s dad let her hang around his family. He’d seen his daughter come back from the abyss with Chelsea’s help. He saw beyond the trailer trash label she’d worn since birth, to find something good.
Unlike her own father. Bless his cold heart.
Her hand tightened around the glass as her teeth ground together, annoyed she’d broken her promise to ban that asshole from her thoughts.
Scrubbing him from her mind, she remembered saying goodbye to Hank, Angel’s dad, instead.
“Be a good lass, but not too good,” he’d said with a wink.
If she was looking for a man, she’d be looking for a younger version of him. But that wasn’t happening. She was just fine all on her lonesome.
“How come your daddy is still single?”
Angel’s face blanched as she blinked huge eyes at the question.
“Aw, shit. Sugar, I didn’t mean that anyone should replace your mama, I just wonder how a good lookin’ man like your daddy manages to fend off the ladies? Tall, dark hair, pale, blue eyes … He’s a looker, sweetie.”
Angel scrunched her nose and reached for the sweetener, pouring it into her mug. “Whatever you say, honey. I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him. Can we just talk about somethin’ else?”
“I’ll bet Miss Penny from the bakery wouldn’t mind buttering his buns, if ya know what I mean.”
Angel clapped her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. “For the love of God, would you please stop?”
Laughter bubbled out of Chelsea’s throat.
She shouldn’t tease, but Angel was an easy target.
“What about you? Any man candy around here worth takin’ for a ride?”
“Oh, my—” The smack of Angel’s palms on the table echoed through the tiny shop, causing a few heads to turn their way.
Chelsea raised an amused brow.
“I have more important things to worry about than the opposite sex. It didn’t turn out so well for me before, so why would I subject myself to that torture again? And what about you, huh?”
Chelsea leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Plenty of man candy where I’m goin’, sugar. They’re pretty to look at and fun to play with, but that’s as far as I’ll go. Men are more trouble than they’re worth. You know how I feel about that.”
Angel merely nodded.
They stared each other down, assessing who was going to break first.
Chelsea uncrossed her arms, feeling bad that she’d ruined their last day together with such a sore subject. She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “Wanna go play switch the mail?”
Angel snorted, a smirk breaking the scowl on her face. “We haven’t done that since sophomore year.”
“I know. It’s well past time for us to do it again.” Chelsea grinned at her friend. “How ‘bout we go shopping instead?”
“We can look, but that’s it.”
They made their way out into the street, matching strides, always in tune with each other.
“Are you sure your daddy is okay with you taking the day off?”
“Yeah. All I did was mention your name, and his face went all soft. I didn’t even have to convince him. He’s unofficially adopted you. In fact, I think you might be his favorite.” Angel mock scowled at Chelsea as she shoved her on the arm.
“Naw. You’re his little Angel.” Chelsea looped their arms as they meandered past the window displays.
“Are you ready to go back to the big smoke?”
“Yes and no. Fall is so beautiful there, but I miss y’all so much when I’m not here. I have some great friends. You’d adore Jenna. I’d love to bring her back with me one day. She’d probably fit in my suitcase. I love all the history. Every turn around every corner is a step back in time. And there are heaps of people our age sharing the college experience. The traffic sucks, though. All those crazy Massholes behind the wheel. It’s some scary shit, let me tell you.”