Rivulets of water ran across Royal’s shoulders and down her arm. She was just as exposed through her thin tank style T-shirt as Lovey, but somehow seemed less bothered by it. Her soaked shorts clung tightly to her thighs as she stood and moved to the red clay at the edge of the pond. She returned after a moment, stirring the dampened red earth around in the palm of her hand.
“Show me where they got you and I’ll dab some of this on.” Royal knelt next to Lovey.
“Here.” Lovey pulled the fabric of her skirt up to reveal a red welt on her calf. “And here.” She pulled the dress up further. Two more stings glowed, hotly raised against the pale skin on her thighs.
“Wow, they really got you good.” Royal dipped her finger into the pool of soft clay in her palm and tenderly dabbed it over the sites of injury.
Royal was kneeling so close that Lovey could feel the heat off her skin. She knew warmth was spreading through her entire body from their nearness. Why did she have such a strong physical reaction to Royal? Lovey studied Royal’s features as she continued to apply the soothing mixture to the bee stings up and down Lovey’s legs.
“There. I think I got them all.” Royal rocked back on her heels and smiled at Lovey.
“Thank you,” whispered Lovey. She found her voice and spoke a little louder, clearing her throat. “Thank you, Royal.”
“Would you like something to drink? I brought some things in the truck.” Lovey nodded and Royal stood to retrieve a basket from the front seat through the open door of the beat up old truck. “I had planned to stop by your place to see if you wanted to go for a ride. And to apologize for leaving the way I did this morning.”
“I was a little surprised by your absence. I was expecting to see you.”
“I figured it’d be better if I met your father under more pleasant circumstances. I was sort of a mess this morning.”
Lovey reached over and brushed a fallen clump of hair away from the bandage on Royal’s forehead.
This time Royal didn’t flinch, but rather smiled at Lovey. “I’m having the strangest sensation of déjà vu.”
“Are you?”
“It seems like I was in this same spot last night, talking to a girl.”
“What sort of girl?”
“Pretty. Mysterious. Kindhearted.”
Lovey tried with limited success to ignore Royal’s flirtatious tone. “How do you know she was kind?”
“Well, she took me home and bandaged my head.” Royal tentatively touched the gauze over her eyebrow. “Oh, and gave me lemonade.” At that, Lovey couldn’t help smiling.
“Want to take a drive with me?”
“You forget that I’ve seen you drive. What sort of dimwitted girl do you take me for?” Lovey surprised herself by flirting back.
“Oh, not dimwitted at all. On the contrary, one of the most interesting girls I’ve met in quite some time.”
“Is that so?” Lovey leaned back on outstretched arms, somehow no longer bashful about the damp blouse and skirt clinging to her body like she was sealed up tight in pale blue fabric.
“Absolutely.” Royal pulled some saltines and sliced cheese from the basket and laid them out on a gingham print cloth napkin. Then she pulled a small glass bottle out and popped the cork free. She offered the bottle to Lovey.
“What is it?”
“Blackberry cordial. My mother makes it. Mostly for cooking, but I like to drink it sometimes.”
Lovey accepted the bottle and took a couple of sips before handing it back to Royal.
“Why were you out driving last night?”
“I run moonshine for my grandfather.” Royal took a swig from the bottle.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, it’s sort of my family’s side business. Well, truthfully, farming is our side business. Whiskey is a bit more profitable than farming at the moment, given the price of corn.” Job opportunities in the rural hill country of north Georgia remained sparse, and income from liquor sales kept families afloat. “Our family has a long history of turning crops into spirits. Apples into brandy and corn into whiskey.”
Royal thoughtfully studied Lovey’s reaction as she took a cracker with cheese. She reckoned she might as well get the truth out in the open. There was no point in spending time together if the notion of moonshining was going to be a deal breaker. She’d delivered the news, but Royal was having a hard time reading Lovey’s expression. Was she surprised? Or was she upset? She didn’t seem to be either.
“So that’s why you were driving so fast?”
“I was just testing the car and the road. I don’t usually drive this way, but Ned thought it might be a quicker route to the Atlanta Highway now that the road’s been graded.” Royal watched Lovey take another sip, while never breaking eye contact. Royal was paying particular attention to Lovey’s mouth on the lip of the green glass bottle, and the distraction caused her to lose her train of thought momentarily. Lovey ran her tongue over her lips, which caused Royal’s cheeks to suddenly feel hot. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I guess as long as I coordinate my drives with your late night walks it’ll be a safe route.”
Lovey laughed softly. “I am sorry about that. But I’m not sorry we met.”
She turned back to face Lovey. “Me either.”
“So, do you work on cars too or is that Ned’s purview?”
“That’s all, Ned. I just drive.” Royal leaned back on an elbow, feeling oddly relaxed and excited at the same time. “Luckily, I was braking when I came into that curve so I had slowed down before I went into that rollover.”
“Is that what you call that upside down move?”
“Yeah, I like to avoid rollovers. At least when I’m behind the wheel of a car.”
“So in other instances a rollover might be advantageous?”
Royal didn’t think she was imagining it. Something was happening between them. Something unexpected. She couldn’t quite figure Lovey out. She was the daughter of a minister. A very conservative Baptist minister. And she’d been married. But unless Royal was way off her game, Lovey was definitely flirting with her. The way Lovey held direct eye contact with her. The way she’d licked her lips just now when she knew Royal was watching. Truth be told, Lovey probably had more experience than she did. She seemed a little bit older and more confident. Maybe Royal was out of her league, but what the hell?
“I can think of a few instances where a rollover is quite nice.” Royal took a swig of the tartly sweet cordial and watched Lovey smile slyly back at her. Oh yeah, this was definitely flirtation.
Royal liked the fact that Lovey was taking her at face value. She’d asked hardly any of the usual get-to-know-you questions. She seemed to be interested in coming to her own conclusions. And it seemed like they’d moved past the mention of moonshine without incident.
“Would you go out with me Saturday night?” Royal tried to ask the question with more confidence than she was feeling.
Lovey didn’t respond right away, and for a minute Royal thought she’d pushed her luck, but then she answered.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
Royal settled back, folding her arms behind her head. Lovey lay down on her side, propped up on one elbow. They were comfortably quiet with each other as they lay in the warm breeze, the smell of grass and damp earth surrounding them. After a minute, Lovey rolled onto her back so that they were lying side by side, inches away but not making contact. Electricity seemed to hum in the space between their bodies. Royal could feel it deep down in her core. She’d only spent a short time with Lovey, but she already knew she had a terrible crush.
“What was your husband’s name?” Royal remembered what Lovey had said about losing her husband. She wanted to know more about Lovey’s life and the sadness that seemed to register sometimes on her pretty face. Like when Lovey had tucked the quilt around her the night before.
“His name was George.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Yes.”
Royal co
uldn’t tell from Lovey’s voice if she was bothered by the questions or not, so she pushed on. “How did he die?” She watched Lovey take a deep breath and exhale before she spoke.
“The doctors called it pulmonary tuberculosis. Most people call it consumption. Probably because it slowly consumes a person.” Lovey was silent for a moment. Royal lay quietly, allowing her to reveal details of her life at her own pace. “It came on him gradually. At first, it seemed like nothing worse than a persistent cold.” Royal handed Lovey the bottle. She leaned up a little and took a long pull. “He’d be fatigued in the morning and then run a fever at night. He lost weight and had a cough that bothered him for weeks.”
“I’m so sorry.” Royal didn’t really know what else to say. Lovey sat up, pulling her knees toward her chest. Royal sat up too, mirroring her pose.
“By the time he was coughing up blood, we moved him to a sanitarium outside of Chicago. I was the only one allowed to see him. His breathing was shallow and labored.” Royal thought Lovey might start to cry, but she didn’t. Tentatively, she reached over and placed a comforting hand on Lovey’s back. “You know what question haunts me?” Lovey turned to face her. “Why him and not me?”
“Oh, Lovey,” whispered Royal. “You can’t think like that.”
“I watched over him for months. Do you know what it’s like to watch someone slowly suffocate?” A tear spilled over her lashes and slid slowly down her cheek. Then another. “And all I keep thinking is why him and not me? He was so kind, so good. I’m not nearly as worthy of living.”
“Don’t say that.” She pulled at Lovey’s arm so that she was forced to look at her. “Hey, things happen that we don’t understand. And it has nothing to do with who’s more worthy or who deserves something and who doesn’t.” Royal reached for her trousers, which she’d tossed on the ground nearby, and retrieved a small handkerchief that she handed to Lovey.
“If you tell me it was God’s will I’m going to get up right now and never speak to you again.” Lovey dabbed at her cheeks with a corner of the thin linen cloth.
She supposed that Lovey was sick to her wits’ end of hearing that particular platitude given the fact that as the minister’s daughter she was probably continually surrounded by well-meaning church folk. Believers always seemed to fall back on that sentiment for some tragedy that made no sense. It hadn’t rung any less hollow to Royal upon losing her father suddenly when she was a child, and it no doubt had no healing effect on Lovey either.
Lovey regarded Royal’s gentle expression and was extremely sensitive to the press of Royal’s open palm against her back.
“That is the last thing I would say to you, Lovey.”
Lovey smiled, sniffed, and wiped again at the tears on her cheeks. “Well, now that’s settled maybe we can be friends.” She used the word friend, but even as she said the word, she felt something much stronger for Royal. A stirring of her insides she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. An unrequited need so powerful that it seemed outside her ability to control the effect it was having on her body. She fondled the handkerchief between her fingers, rubbing her thumb over the embroidery at the corner; the initials R. D. and what looked like the outline of a car. She couldn’t help smiling.
“A car?”
“My mother did the stitching. She says all ladies should keep a clean handkerchief on their person.” Royal shifted, possibly feeling a bit bashful about the personal detail the embroidery revealed.
“I think most ladies have flowers, not cars. Your mother must be very understanding.”
“I would say she’s tolerant. She knows if she put flowers on it I’d never leave the house with it.”
They were facing each other now, although their bodies were side by side, knees bent. She became aware of Royal’s mouth, darkly tinted by the blackberry cordial. She wanted to kiss Royal. The realization that she wanted to kiss another woman quickened her pulse. She’d ever only kissed George.
Lovey shifted closer, never taking her eyes off Royal’s lips. After another moment of hesitation, she leaned into Royal, placing her lips lightly on Royal’s. She lingered there, with eyes closed, savoring the soft sensation of their lips pressed together.
If the world was still spinning, she had no sense of it, for in the moment when their lips touched everything in motion seemed to still. Even the birds were silent. She held her breath. The only sound she heard was the pounding of her own heart in her chest like a bass drum.
After a moment, she pulled away, not sure what Royal’s reaction might be to the kiss. She’d never kissed a woman before, but she’d wanted to kiss Royal since they’d stood facing each other in her father’s kitchen. Royal’s face was flushed, maybe from the heat of midday or from the kiss. She was about to apologize for her boldness when Royal closed the space between them and kissed her. The kiss was gentle, but demanding. With the weight of Royal pushing against her, she fell back onto the blanket pulling Royal with her. She held Royal’s face in her hands and kissed her deeply, mouths open, tongues touching. She felt Royal’s hand drift down her ribs to the outside curve of her hip.
This was nothing more than a first kiss, and yet she was more aroused than she’d ever been in three years of marriage to George. While she’d cared deeply for George and they had even been close friends before marriage, this…this was something else entirely. She had a moment of panic because of the strength of her body’s reaction to the kiss and broke away from Royal, breathing hard. She held Royal’s face in her hands, and the expression on Royal’s face seemed to telegraph the same surprised intensity that she was feeling, an intensity that scared her a little.
“Does this frighten you?” She whispered the question as she gazed into Royal’s eyes, attempting to gauge the sincerity she saw there.
“I see you, Lovey Porter. And I am not afraid.”
Lovey did feel seen. For the first time in a long time.
She pulled Royal’s mouth to hers and they kissed. Time suspended as shadows grew longer around them and a light afternoon breeze danced across their heated skin.
Chapter Seven
It was late the next evening when Royal finally showed up to retrieve her Ford sedan from Ned’s shop. The car was already loaded for a delivery to Forsyth County on the northern outskirts of Atlanta.
“Sorry, I didn’t make it over last night.” Royal parked her grandfather’s old truck beside the weathered barn that doubled as Ned’s makeshift garage. “I ended up hanging out for a while.”
“I kinda figured you might.” Ned slid back the large front door of the barn to reveal the car already headed in the “out” direction. “I went ahead and got this all loaded for you. Dad wanted to talk to you about something, but he got tired of waiting.”
Ned’s father, Wade, Royal’s uncle, was as thick as he was mean. Stout through the chest and neck, he looked more like a boxer than a farmer. Which no one believed he was anyway. He was the sort of fellow who believed that the sun rose just to hear him crow. Royal was more than pleased she’d missed whatever directive Wade Duval had planned to deliver. She tried to spend as little time around him as possible and hated to see the long-term effect his aggressive parenting had had on Ned.
More than once when they were kids she’d seen Wade shove Ned with his boot hard enough to knock him down. She never really believed Ned when he explained away a black eye as a fight at school.
Royal’s mother blamed a sharp blow to the head for Wade’s antisocial behavior. She said after a bad fall from the barn loft he’d never been the same, but Royal wasn’t really buying it. Wade Duval was a bully, plain and simple. A coward. Quick to prey on those he perceived to be less significant in any way.
Wade had married his high school sweetheart, Mary, also his sixth cousin, and even she’d left him once for a week after he struck her. The story went that when Wade showed up at her father’s house to retrieve his runaway bride, he was met with a shotgun and a death threat if he ever struck Mary again. Royal always wondered why
Mary went back to him. Maybe she was already pregnant with Ned. In any case, Mary never spoke about the incident, so it would remain just one of many family mysteries Royal would never solve.
Royal agreed to keep running liquor as long as her grandfather needed her, but the minute Wade took over the operation, she had decided she was going to leave her post behind the wheel. As much as she liked driving fast cars, she liked dealing with Wade even less. The trade-off wouldn’t be worth the emotional duress.
“Do you know what he wanted to tell me?” Royal asked as she threw a satchel into the car and stood in the open door.
“Had something to do with payment I think, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Well, then I’ll just be asking the usual price, won’t I?” Royal climbed in and cranked the car. “Is this going to 306?” Juke joints usually went by an address rather than a name. She wasn’t sure why.
“Yeah, that’s the place.”
“Why don’t you ride with me tonight?” She pulled the door closed and spoke to Ned through the open window. He shifted his stance, moving his weight from one foot to the other. He was not much taller than Royal, with a slim, boyish build. They were close in age, but she somehow seemed older.
“I best not. Pop will be lookin’ for me shortly.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to do what you want to do once in a while, Ned. It would do you good to get out every now and then.” She knew it was pointless to encourage him. He was beat down, and more often than not just looking to avoid a fight with his father. Ned’s solace was the barn and his engine parts. He was always cooking up some modification or experimental enhancement for Royal to try. They’d always been close. Like twins separated at birth, or like two halves of the same brain. They made a good team. Most of the time she felt closer to Ned than to her own brother.
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