Ouch.
I take a step back from him. “I don’t want anything. I never knew who you were. I asked her all my life who my father was and she would never tell me. She left me a letter with her attorney and it had your history together and the fact that you, Arthur Peterson, are my biological father. I don’t want or need a damn thing from you.”
I spin on my heels and march myself straight to the Bug. A hand grabs my elbow as I’m sliding the key into the door. “Wait, Memphis.” Turning my head, I glare up to see him staring off into the distance. He looks back down at me. “I’m sorry for what I said. You caught me off guard. I had no idea I had a child out there. Launa never told me she was pregnant. Hell, she didn’t tell me anything over the last twenty-something years.”
I shrug off his grip from my elbow and face the Bug again. "It's alright, Arthur. I was as shocked to find out about you as I'm sure you are about me. She had an uncanny ability to keep secrets it seems."
"Stay. Please, Memphis."
Dropping my head to my chest I count to three, slowly, before turning to face him once again. "Why, Arthur? Honestly, I just wanted to see you once, just to cure the curiosity I've had all these years." I let out a harsh laugh. "We really don't have to do this. I can get back in my car and drive back home. You'll never have to see me again. Like I said before, I don't want or need anything from you, Arthur."
Arthur grips the back of his neck with both hands and studies me at the same time. "No, I meant it, Memphis. Please stay." He could tell I was about to refuse because he cut me off before I could begin speaking. "We're having family dinner tomorrow night. Just give me one night, it's not too much to ask is it?"
I groan and shake my head. This man is almost as obnoxious as Momma was when it comes to the pleading face. "Fine. One dinner and then I'm heading home, Arthur."
"Great." A smile lights up his face and I watch as he pulls a pen and piece of paper from his back pocket. "Here's the address of the house. We eat at seven, all of us including my father."
I have a grandfather? The idea of having another living relative, of having more family, causes my breath to catch. I nod my head at Arthur, unsure if I could utter a word without falling apart in front of him. He may be my father, but he's still a stranger.
"Okay, Memphis." He takes a step back, followed by two more. "We'll see you tomorrow night at seven."
I turn and force the key into the Bug to unlock the door then settle in, finally letting out the breath I was holding. Turning the car on, I put it into drive and head back to my hotel. About halfway there I realize I don't have anything appropriate to wear tomorrow night. I can't be too casual, but he didn't say anything about dinner being too fancy. I remember seeing a boutique in a strip mall not far from the hotel earlier today. If I'm not mistaken, there was also a bar and grill there as well. I can shop at the boutique and grab dinner afterward without having to drive more than necessary in this city filled with crazy and frantic drivers.
Heaven help me.
"What can I get you, ma’am?"
A white paper napkin with a beer bottle logo is placed in front of me on top of the long, polished wood bar I'm sitting at. I lucked out at the boutique and found a simple, red sleeveless dress. It fits snuggly from the scooped neck down to my waist where it flares out with wide pleats before hitting right about my knees. The owner, a sweet older lady named Linda, even managed to talk me into a pair of slingback wedges with a small bow on the back of them. They really did make the dress. Dang you, Linda.
A throat clearing brings me back to where I currently am and I look up to see who interrupted my thoughts of Linda and all the adorable outfits I had to force myself not to look at. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The bartender repeats his question, "I asked, what can I get you?"
I notice the smirk that's partially hidden under his full beard. I normally would look the other way when I see a man with a beard, but the playful look of his dark blue eyes has me stopping to study him. His beard, although long, is trimmed and combed. Do they comb beards? It's the same shade of brown as his hair with simple streaks of auburn throughout it. Women pay good money to get the same color effect as him. His hair is longer in the front and slicked back, the sides and what I can see of the back are all closely shaved. He's wearing a long sleeve plaid shirt with both sleeves rolled up over his elbows. Both of his arms and the tops of his hands are covered in tattoos and for some reason, I want him to take his shirt off. I want to see if they continue up his arms and where else they may be hiding. I shake off those rampant thoughts and force myself to answer his question. "Whiskey sour, please."
He winks at me before walking away to make my drink. My eyes follow his back and I can't help but quickly glance at his butt. Okay, maybe it wasn't a quick glance. Give me a break, I've had a tiring day. I barely have time to avert my eyes from his rear when he turns and walks, no, not walks, it's more like saunters over to me, and places the glass in front of me on top of the napkin.
I thank him before picking up my glass and taking a large drink. By the time I place the glass back down, there's barely a sip left. "Long day, sweetheart?"
"Sweetheart?" I chuckle at him. "Yeah, you could say that. Can I get another, please? Oh, and a menu?"
The bartender grabs my glass, drinks the remainder, then saunters off again to make me another. This time when he returns with my drink, he brings a laminated single paged menu with him. "I recommend the Memphis BBQ Burger. It's the house special."
"Well, I don't think I could go wrong with the Memphis, seeing how we share the same name."
He lifts his left eyebrow up in a question. "You telling me your name is Memphis or BBQ?"
It takes me a second to realize he's making a joke and I throw my head back in laughter. After today I really needed that. "It's actually burger, but you can call me Memphis." I reach my hand out and he chuckles as he grabs my hand. I expect him to shake it, but he surprises me when he pulls it to his mouth and places a small kiss on top, causing my breath to hitch. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Memphis. You can call me Cain."
I place my hand into my lap once he releases it and leans across the bar. "Tell me, Cain. Is it true what they said about you? Did you really kill your brother?"
His laugh is loud and booms all around me. "Oh, sweetheart, I have a feeling this is the beginning of something beautiful. Let me get your order in. I'll be back in a little bit."
I watch as Cain walks away from me and through a door I assume leads to the kitchen. Picking up my second drink, I try to sip this one slowly while I replay the events of the day. Not only did I meet Arthur, but he invited me to dinner to meet the rest of his family, including my grandfather. I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. For so long it's only been me and Momma, to know that I had more family out there... No, I refuse to let myself go there. She was an amazing mother and my head tells me she had her reasons for keeping Arthur Peterson a secret from me. Unfortunately, my heart doesn't want to listen and it's still broken over the knowledge that she was able to keep these secrets. I didn't have to look for him, but she knew, she knew how much knowing just his name meant to me. Deep breaths, Memphis. She was only trying to protect you and herself. Do not disrespect your momma's memory like this.
The sound of a plate being set down in front of me brings me out of my thoughts. "Holy crap, Cain. This burger could feed both of us!" Cain chuckles under his breath but I'm not kidding. "What exactly is on a Memphis BBQ burger?"
"Well, as the name says, it has BBQ on it." I roll my eyes at that comment then wave my hand for him to continue. "I get it, sarcasm isn't for you. It's a quarter pound of Angus beef, topped with pulled pork and our own secret BBQ sauce, two strips of crispy bacon, and of course lettuce and tomato. Gotta get those veggies in there somehow."
I pick up the burger and tilt my head, trying to figure out how I'm going to fit this thing in my mouth. I can't help but laugh at myself. Sometimes my head is in the gutter. Deciding to
stop contemplating and just jump into it, I take the biggest bite I can and confirm that Cain was right. The Memphis BBQ burger is the best thing I have ever tasted. I don't even mind all the BBQ sauce running down my chin right now. Cain uses his index finger to push the napkin closer to me and I ignore it, taking another bite, this time letting out a deep groan from the explosion of goodness.
"I take it you like it?"
Since my mouth is currently full, I can only nod my head. Deciding that I need a drink and probably a washcloth to wash off my face, I gently place the burger back onto my plate. After using the napkin, and another three Cain gave me, I can finally answer him with words. "That is seriously the best burger I have ever had. The only thing it's missing is a cold beer to wash it down with."
Cain smirks at me before walking a few steps away and down the bar. I watch him pour a glass of beer from one of the taps and bring it back to me. "Try this one."
I'm not really a beer drinker, but I guess trying it wouldn't hurt. I can't help the moan that comes from my throat when the crisp, almost fruity, flavored beer hits my taste buds. "What is this? I don't usually like beer, but this is amazing."
Is that a blush I see spreading across Cain's cheeks? "It's called Berry Beer. It's one of our recipes."
"Really? They make their own beer here?"
"You didn't see the sign when you came in?"
"Honestly? I wasn't paying attention. I just walked in without even looking. I was searching for a drink and an easy meal. Luck led me here."
"Luck, huh?"
Picking up my burger, I take another bite to prevent any more questions from Cain. I have a feeling this bartender could get me to confess my pin numbers with his smile and flirty personality. Once I've finished as much of the burger as I can, I pick the beer back up and ask
Cain for my check.
"It's on the house tonight. It's the least I can do since you share the name of our famous burger."
"Thank you, Cain. Maybe I'll see you again sometime."
I snag my purse and bags from Linda’s store and turn for the exit. When I'm about halfway to the door, I hear my name being called. I look back over my shoulder at Cain and hear him say, "I most definitely will be seeing you again, Memphis."
I walk out of the bar with an extra swing to my hips.
Oh, my stars.
I'm looking over myself with a critical eye in the tall mirror hanging over the bathroom door in my hotel room. Am I dressed nice enough? I stop questioning my choice of dress and remind myself that everything is going to be okay. So what if I'm meeting Arthur's family and my grandfather for the first time? The red dress I chose to wear tonight is simple yet beautiful. I look great if I do say so myself. If they don't like me, then they can kiss my butt. I didn't have a family before I got here, and I don't need to have one when I leave.
I hear Momma’s voice telling me: "You got this, Memphis. They would be stupid not to like you."
Closing my eyes, I send up some love to Momma, grab my purse and head downstairs, and out to my Bug.
The drive to the Peterson's house doesn't take nearly as long as I wished it had. By the time I climb out of the Bug and up the twelve steps to their front door, my palms are clammy and my heart is beating so fast that I'm surprised I don't have a heart attack on the front porch. Before I can talk myself out of this horrible decision, I knock on their door. The front door quickly opens and I come face to face with Rachel Long Peterson, Arthur’s wife. I recognize her immediately from all the pictures I was able to see on their daughter’s social media accounts. Rachel offers her hand with a tight smile on her perfectly made up face. While I'm shaking her hand, I study her the same way she is undoubtedly studying me. Her brunette hair is cut into a short pixie-style and not a single strand is out of place. Her brown eyes are lightly shaded and surrounded by full eyelashes. Her complexion is flawless, except for the small lines that crinkle from her eyes. She doesn't look like the type of woman to put up with laugh lines, but I doubt she finds anything about this situation laughable.
"Welcome to our home, Memphis. If you'll follow me, the rest of the family is in the living room."
Rachel steps back and allows me to enter. I watch her shut the door and turn to follow her through the foyer and into a massive living room. The walls are a light grey color, the hardwood floors are so shiny I’m afraid someone will be able to see up my dress. The furniture and decor make me afraid to touch anything for fear of either breaking something or getting it dirty. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this isn't it.
A cough catches my attention and I stop analyzing Rachel's taste in decor and instead focus on the room full of people currently staring at me. The three sisters, Gretchen, Priscilla, and Piper are all standing together in front of a white marble fireplace. I find Arthur sitting on one of the brown leather sofas and next to him must be his father. My grandfather. He looks just like Arthur, except for a few extra pounds, a darker complexion that makes him look like he sits outside in the sun every day and his hair is thinner and has grey blended in with the darker brown. Unlike Arthur, this man's eyes hold amusement and something about that makes me want to get to know him, no matter what happens between me and Arthur. I'm about to say hello when a deep, velvet voice interrupts me. "Can I get any of y'all something else to drink?" I look over my shoulder to see the intruder and holy cow. "I'm sorry,” he says, "I didn't realize you had company."
"Oh, she's not company, is she Dad?"
"That's enough, Gretchen." Arthur stands and walks toward me. "Memphis, you've already met my wife, Rachel. These are my daughters, Gretchen, Priscilla, and Piper." Arthur must realize what he just said because his face turns red. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. What I should have said, was these are my other daughters, your half-sisters. My father, Jim Peterson, obviously, and this," he tells me while lifting his hand in the direction of the man who caught my attention already, "is my protege at the farm. Tanner pretty much runs the farming aspect of Peterson, Inc. now. If I have my way, he'll one day be a member of the Peterson family by marriage and I can pass on the farm to him."
Tanner's eyes never leave mine as he walks to stand by Gretchen. Of course, this tall man with dark brown hair and beautiful green eyes would be with her. Ugh, whatever. I decide to let everything go and try to be pleasant tonight. With a smile on my face, I nod to each of them.
"It's very nice to meet all of you."
"Can we just go eat now and get this all over with?" Gretchen grabs Tanner’s hand and practically drags him out of the room.
Arthur places a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Memphis. I'll show you to the dining room."
I follow Arthur out of the living room and through a set of white double doors that are open to the dining room. These people really don't do anything small. The same color grey is on the walls with white sheer curtains on both windows that overlook the immaculate front yard. The table has a long bench on one side, four chairs on the opposite and large fabric covered chairs on each end. The gleaming wood table is covered in dishes and something smells amazing. The idea of eating a good home cooked meal has me deciding to do whatever I have to in order to get through this night. I haven't had anything homemade since Momma died. At this point, I’d do just about anything not to have to eat another greasy burger.
"Everything smells wonderful, Rachel."
See! I can be nice. Unfortunately, Arthur's daughters don't seem to be able to do the same. "Can we please just get on with it. Tanner and I have plans after this fiasco is over with."
"I don't remember making any plans, Gretchen. I already told you I was busy tonight with the guys."
I watch in fascination as Gretchen tenses up. She throws her long brunette hair over her shoulder and lowers her lashes before responding to Tanner. Does that move really work? "Tanner, I told you I wanted to do something. You can see them anytime."
"Yes, but I told you I already made plans and I'm not canceling on them. Honestly Gretchen, I don't feel l
ike doing this right now. Not in front of your family."
Gretchen huffs then glances my way. Her eyes narrow on me and I know I can count her off of my Christmas card list.
"So, Memphis, tell us a little about yourself. Arthur didn't have much information about you to share with us."
Point to Rachel for letting me know where I stand. Good thing I couldn't care less. My momma raised me to be polite, but she did not raise me to be a doormat. I slap on a smile for Rachel and tell her with my eyes that I know what she's trying to do and it won’t work.
"Well, I'm a kindergarten teacher back home. It takes up most of my time, so during the school year, unless it pertains to the Packers football season, I'm at home reading or doing research on how to better myself and the way I teach my kids. During the summer Momma and I like to camp. There's several lakes near us and we like to be outdoors."
"I thought your mother was dead."
"Rachel!"
"No, it's okay, Arthur." I take a sip of water and try to get my temper under control before I say something I can't take back, or before I hurdle this table and smack Rachel across the face. "Yes, Rachel, momma passed away a couple of weeks ago. That's actually what brought me here. I had no idea who my father was, she never would tell me his name. It wasn't until her attorney gave me a letter she had written to me that I found out who Arthur was. She told me the story of how they met that summer and how he never came home, instead chose to be with you when he was supposed to be meeting her after finishing boot camp. It was a very informative letter."
I hear a cough and look over to see Tanner with his hand in front of his mouth. If I didn't know any better, I’d say he was trying to hide laughter behind that hand. I lift my eyebrow in question at him and he winks at me. Have mercy. This man is too handsome and way too nice to be sitting in this house full of assholes.
"Yes, well, every story has two sides to it."
"You're very right. Care to tell me what your side is then, Rachel?"
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