by Lucian Bane
“Perfect.”
“Now start talking,” she said.
“Right or left.”
“Right for Clarency’s sake, don’t you remember which way you turned in?”
Lucian pulled onto the country road in the giant station wagon, feeling like an eight year old driving his mean Gramma’s car.
“Now I want to know everything,” Gramma said, “startin with where you from so I can know why you talk too funny.”
“I’m from Texas, actually.”
“Balderdash!” she exclaimed. “Then where’s your voice?”
“I spent a lot of my life in New York.”
“Nuh-yark! Well I’ll be. So that’s where you get your fancy pants.”
“I try to just be me.”
“So you like being fancy pants?”
“No, I’m just me. I’m not trying to be fancy.”
“So you just got fancy in your roots.”
Lucian gave up. “I suppose I do.”
“So how did you meet my Tara?”
“Uh. At a job.”
“What kind of job?”
“The one she… left here to go to.”
“How long you been beddin’ with her?”
“Beddin’?”
“I know you done had sexual relations. I can tell.”
“You can?”
She fluttered her fingers before her face. “It’s in the eyes.”
“Fair enough. About a week after we met.”
She smacked her leg. “So you’re a fornicator.”
“No ma’am, I’m not.”
“You just said you was.”
“I said I’ve… made love to Tara. That doesn’t make me a fornicator.”
“Are you married to her?”
“Yes.”
“Well then why the heckin’ we havin a weddin’?”
“For a formal expression of our marriage.”
“So you took her to the courthouse and signed papers and no ceremony?”
“No, didn’t do that.”
“Well what the heck you did?”
“I gave her my heart. I don’t need a man or paperwork to do that. Nor do I need it to guarantee that I am her husband until death should part us.”
Lucian sat in the awkward silence for what felt like eons, waiting for hell-fire and brimstone.
“Well I never.” She fiddled with a pale yellow handkerchief in her hands. “My Wilbur was just like that. So romantic. Wilbur’s her granddad, you know. He passed three years ago.”
Lucian let out a breath of relief. “Sorry to hear it. I would have liked to met him. My own father was a hard man. I got my loving side from my mother.”
“Oh you would have loved him. My Wilber was all heart. And farts. That man couldn’t walk five steps without tooting.” She gave a soft giggle in memory. “I do miss that. Not the farts so much, just… the little things.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for? People die, we cherish the memories. Play’em in our minds over and over like a favorite television program. I even do things still just to remember.”
“That’s a very nice way to see it. I’d rather not think of life without Tara.”
“Of course you don’t think of that now. Just have fun. Now tell me about this daddy of yours.”
Dread snaked through Lucian at the choice of topic. Why did he mention him? Bastard was destined to ruin everything when he didn’t try. Lucian began filling Gramma in, keep it generic. But as he went, the buried anger and hate twisted and tightened his guts until this words gradually grew faster, harder, and louder.
“Stop!” Gramma said.
Lucian slammed the brakes and looked around. “God, sorry, did I miss a turn?”
She stared at him with slack jaw and a narrowed gaze. “Gimme your hand, youngin’.”
Lucian looked at the outstretched limb and hesitantly did as told, hoping she wouldn’t break his fingers for disrespecting his elders.
She clutched his hand in hers and put her other one on top. The cold, thin digits gripped with determination and surprising strength. “Now you listen to me. You need to let all that go.” Had to be the most unexpected thing out of her mouth. “No, look at me. Your daddy loves you.”
Lucian couldn’t keep his head from shaking and the “No,” from escaping. He tried to pull his hand away, not wanting to agree with something he didn’t believe, or knew to be untrue, especially that.
But Gramma held his hand tight. “Yes, he does.”
“No, Gramma, he doesn’t.”
“You’re not listenin’ to this old woman.” Thick remorse hoarsened her voice and drew his gaze. “My daddy was a hard man too, see? A very hard man,” she whispered, tears in her old eyes. “Ohhh, he could beat me till the cows came home and I wouldn’t listen. And he did,” she assured with slow nods. “But you know what?” She looked harder at him. She pointed up for a few seconds. “God… told me one day, you know what he told me?” Lucian waited quietly. “He says, chile? Your father loves you. And just like you, I said, no, no no. He don’t love me, you should know. And I wasn’t a hog haired impressed with God not knowin’, either.”
“Right,” Lucian whispered, an odd emotion stirring in him that had him curious.
“And God says, chile, you’re not listening to me. He said, your father… loves you.” Gramma wiped the tears streaming with one hand, keeping firm hold of Lucian’s with the other. “And then… it was like heaven opened up in my little spirit, I was only fourteen. But boy my mind was throwed open like a window in July and in swooshed this knowin’. I suddenly knew that the man I called daddy,” she shook her head, “he wasn’t my daddy. God was,” she barely managed. “And he was tryin’ to tell my broken heart that. Because I wanted my daddy’s love sooooo bad.”
Lucian suddenly couldn’t breathe. He turned his face away and clenched his eyes tight, gripping Gramma’s hand as the child inside him clawed and begged for redemption. Justice. Maybe freedom.
“Youngin’ I know,” she whispered. “I know it’s eatin’ you up, I can feel it. Cause I had the same thing. You was just a talkin’ and a talkin’ and my father tapped me on the shoulder and said, look Dorothy. And it all came back to me just the same as if I was having that conversation with God that day. All that pain and anger and need. God said to me, stop him! Tell him who his father is and how much he loves him. So I did.” She patted his hand and released it. “Now let’s get on into town. We dallied long enough on this here road. Somebody’s liable to run us plum in the rear.” She flicked her fingers forward.
Dazed, Lucian did as always when he didn’t know what to do with emotions. He locked them away for later. He would surely be revisiting the ones Gramma just surprised him with. Putting the car in gear, they rode the rest of the trip into town with no incident, except for the door on Lucian’s inner vault refusing to stay locked and his insides getting saturated with his past. It made him need to be with Tara but he had an entire day with Gramma to get through. He’d call her when he stopped.
Chapter Eight
The town of Maplewood was spacious and littered with full grown trees, making it feel like you were still on a country drive. “This here’s the bank I need to stop at.” Gramma pointed on the right.
Lucian turned in. “Drive thru, or going in?”
“Oh I don’t do those drive ups, they so damn confusin’.”
“We’ll go in then?” Lucian would check into opening an account to move some of their money while he was at it.
“Sounds like a date.”
Lucian smiled and hurried out the car and escorted her into the bank, feeling like they’d just formed a special bond back there on the road. One of those bonds you created when you saved another person’s ass in some way. Felt like she’d pulled him up from a cliff and he wasn’t entirely proud about what put him there to begin with. He’d let buried shit bubble up and show its ugly face. To Gramma of all things. Most impressive. And now the air felt different between t
hem. But he was sure it was a good difference. At least it seemed that way to him.
While Gramma did her banking, Lucian opened an account and thirty minutes later, they were headed to a date at the local diner. “Is it far?” Lucian asked.
“It’s an ass-shake away.”
He chuckled and angled a grin at her. “Can we walk it? The weather is nice.”
She stopped and looked around for a moment and closed her eyes. “It sure is, isn’t it? I feel so free today.”
Lucian’s gut clenched at what it must’ve been like living at a retirement home. He held his elbow out for her. “Shall we?”
“Yes we shall.”
Once in the diner, Lucian made a beeline for the bathroom and called Tara only to get her damn answering machine. “Hey, it’s me.” He paced in the small bathroom. “Just wanted to touch base with you. Umm, I love you. Having fun with Gramma too, we’re uh, at the diner and then it’s on to her errands. I’ll try to call you again soon. Or call me when you get this.” Lucian pocketed his phone, hating the feeling that had a hold of him. He felt… disconnected from… something. Like something had happened inside him and set off a chain reaction. It made him nervous not knowing what the fuck it was and where it might end.
The rest of his time with Dorothy, Lucian took careful notes, not wanting to miss anything when telling Tara about it. He also took notes of the town, of the people, looking for inspiring ideas for their kinky-dink assignment by their money holder. How hard could it be to find five couples to train in the lifestyle? That wouldn’t mind being paid to learn. And that could keep their mouth’s shut. Lucian mentally marked potential students as well as the non-potentials.
That left selling adult sex toys under-cover. He was utterly fucking clueless on that one. The packet said they had to show proof of purchase and delivery to valid addresses. Surely they could figure a work around on that?
By the time they headed back to the farm, the car was piled with groceries and homestead necessities, as Dorothy called them, along with non-stop chatter and wedding plans.
He hated not paying for things but that was out of the eva-lovin question. He’d have to funnel money into her account without her knowing.
“Oh good, Luther’s there, we can have a big family reunion.”
Panic struck Lucian at seeing a Ford Explorer pick-up in front of the house, looking like he’d used tires off the largest tractor he could find. Rapid fire questions added up in his mind, beginning with when he got there and ending with what the fuck was he doing there.
Gramma’s hand clamped his wrist when he finally shut the car off and opened the door. He turned to find a knowing gaze aimed at him. “There ain’t a reason in hades for you to be carryin’ on like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a bull blastin’ out of a pen, that’s what.”
He looked at the house. “I don’t like him.”
“I can see that pistol-pants. You don’t want to be showin’ him your guns if you get what I’m sayin’? If he’s playin’ a game, I’ll see it soon enough and you don’t need to be worried.”
“Oh I’m not worried. For me.”
She opened the door and Lucian hurried out to help her. “I’ll get the groceries later, come on.” Lucian hooked his arm in Gramma’s and walked her to the house in the falling dusk.
Laughter rang out from in the house and cut Lucian’s gut. And something was off about it. Was she drunk? Fury began to boil in his blood as images of Tara falling all over Barbie Bundy, hit him.
“Maybe you should just carry me the—oh lord almighty, I was pokin’ fun at you, put me down.”
“Sorry Gramma, I love you but you’re slow as molasses.” He set her down on the porch and opened the door, not sure if he wanted to let them know he was there so he didn’t have to see anything he couldn’t forget, or sneak in to find out exactly what was going on.”
“You’re back!” Tara ran to the door the second it opened and relief slammed Lucian at seeing Ted Bundy had brought his own Barbie to play with.”
“Ohhhh this must be Luscious!” The female version of Luther laughed boisterously and danced over in her blue-jeaned extra short shorts to present her hand. “I’m Sarah.” The angle she held her hand said she wanted him to kiss it .
He glanced at Tara who eyed the girl with hazel shotguns now. When Tara finally looked at him, he raised his brows, begging for an answer to his what the fuck only to be met with her own help!
The idea that she was stuck with these two clowns for only God knew how long should have pissed him off but he was too damn relieved that it wasn’t worse things he couldn’t cope with. He tossed the blonde a “hi,” and pulled Tara into his arms, kissing her with enough passion to put to rest any shit-making notions in the brew.
“Get a room already,” the girl said with a high pitched laugh.
“That’s pert-near sexual relations right there,” Gramma cut in. “And I like you Luscious, but don’t push your blasted luck, buster. Luther, I’m sorry for taken so dad-gum long, I plum forgot the time.”
“Not a problem Ms. Reese. Anything for the lovely ladies.”
Lucian’s upper lip raised a tad on the right. Lovely ladies. “Well, we can tour the farm tomorrow. It’s late and I’m tired.”
“It’s only 6:30 slick.” Luther gave him a smiley smirk. “Not sure how you’ll survive the farm life if you’re tired this early.” He let out a booming laugh.
“It’s my fault,” Tara said, smiling up at him. “I didn’t give him much sleep last night.”
“Yeah,” Luther said, “you can be handful.”
Lucian glared at the bastard not surprised to find his merry gaze aimed at him, then the blonde erupted in non-sense squeaky chatter accompanied with exaggerated body language as though she couldn’t stand not being the center of the show.
“How long have you and Sarah been together?” Lucian asked.
“Ohhhh, nooo,” Tara said. “They’re not together.” Tara shot her brows up. “She’s just a friend.”
Lucian caught the private message clearly. They were making a play. Well, Lucian could play too. “Friends with benefits I see.”
“Don’t you find they make a staggering couple?” Tara said, forming a frame with her fingers and holding it at them. “Like Ken and Barbie? Imagine the pretty children they’ll make.”
“Nobody’s making children,” Luther drawled, getting up from the couch. “I guess I’ll come back in the morning to talk about business.”
“Nonsense,” Gramma said, entering in with a huge party tray of goodies. “It’s early. Sit down. We can at least work out the talking part.”
They all sat with a slow reluctance and Tara climbed in Lucian’s lap. Judging by the expression on Lucifer’s face, he didn’t like him touching Tara. Amazing. What the fuck did he have in mind with her? Whatever it was, the anger in his brooding gaze said Lucian was fucking it up royally.
Gramma served out little dishes of crackers and what looked like grape juice. Or maybe moonshine. “Now, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I know since Wilbur passed, we haven’t had any yields worth a dime. So, I was thinking we’d take up the medicinal herbs Wilbur grew. He had a deal with the state? I do believe they sold well to the local medical facilities.” She sipped her drink, brown eyes shifting left to right over her cup to see what they thought.
“That’s a good idea,” Tara said, impressed.
“Well.” Luther sat forward with his doom and gloom. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Oh?” Gramma straightened her spine, looking like farm royalty. “And why not?”
“Well, for one, the state contract ran out at the end of last year. If you did it, you’d be on your own. Which means a lot of capital up front.”
This news seemed to turn Gramma into a frail leaf in the wind. “How much capital?” she said, disheartened.
“Around ten thousand.”
“Ten…” Gramma’s voice trailed in astoni
shment.
“Thousand.” Luther added the word with a lying frown on his face like he actually cared. It was obvious this was all a part of ole Luther’s plot, whatever it was.
“That’s not a problem,” Lucian said. “I have money put away for investment. I’ll put it up.”
Gramma turned a surprised look his way then shook her head, putting her cup down. “Nonsense, I can’t have you paying for it.”
“I said investment, you’ll of course have to pay me back.”
She met his gaze and he quirked his brow at her, bringing a sweet smile to her face. “Well, when you put it that way.” She looked at Tara then back at Lucian. “You got yourself a deal mister. Plus I’ll give you ten percent of the profit.”
“Fifteen,” Lucian said. “And I help farm it.”
Gramma slapped her leg and let out a victorious yee-haw yodel.
“Wait a minute,” Luther said. “You don’t even have contracts with buyers, how will you sell?”
“I’ll get contracts,” Lucian said.
“You?” He let his attitude slip. “How’s a city slicker going to get contracts?”
“Because I’m from the city. Therefore I have connections there.” Lucian carefully added stupid to his silky tone.
“You have farm connections?”
“I have whatever connections I need to make. It’s about finding the need and meeting it.” Lucian stroked Tara’s arms softly.
“Ohhhh, he’s very good at that,” Tara said, giving a sultry giggle. Lucian touched the tip of her nose, playing the disgustingly happy couple to the hilt.
“Oh dear, my groceries,” Gramma gasped.
“Tara and I will get them.” Lucian nearly dumped her out of his lap for the excuse to leave the room.
“You sure?” Gramma asked.
“Gramma, tend the guests,” Tara said. “It’d be awful rude to leave them.” Tara added a light pat to her Gramma’s shoulder then leaned and kissed the top of her head.
“Save some for us, guys,” Lucian said as they headed out.
“We really need to be going,” Lucian heard dumbass say as they hurried out snickering like bad children.