Sweet Southern Comfort

by Candice Poarch

  “Mama?”

  “What, sweetie?” Melanie jerked her mind from Monroe to Courtney.

  “I called you twice.”

  “Must have been daydreaming.”

  “We practiced harder than ever today.”

  Melanie smiled at her daughter, who was slumped in the seat beside her. “Good way for you to burn up that excess energy. You’ll sleep well tonight.”

  “I sleep well every night. I don’t understand why we can’t play our old positions.”

  “Don’t you feel more comfortable in your new position?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t like sharing halfback with Connie Hicks.”

  “You girls are a team when you play soccer.”

  “We’re a team as a family.”

  “Honey, you’re part of another team now. You know I don’t like the feud, and I don’t like your taking sides.”

  “But family has to stick up for one another. Uncle Milton said so.”

  “Uncle Milton says too much.” How did you explain a feud that didn’t make sense to an impressionable nine-year-old who wanted to fit in?

  When Melanie pulled into her drive, several cars were already there. The Carsons and some of the other players’ parents.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Melanie said and slid out of the car.

  As Monroe stood in the shower, he wondered what Melanie had meant by “I don’t run from anything.” Had something happened in her marriage? Had she left her husband because of infidelity? He wondered what her story was.

  He ducked his head to let the water splash over him. Maybe he was drawn to her no-nonsense nature. She was obviously a good mother and most of the town respected her.

  Just as he soaped his hair with shampoo, his cell phone rang. He assumed it would be his headhunter with news on the job front. With soap running down his face, he took the call.

  It was Veronica Stone, the wife of his ex best friend and partner.

  “We miss you, Monroe. Sam’s asking about you. How is your grandmother?”

  “Improving.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear. Eric and I are trying to arrange a trip to see her. She’s a lovely woman.”

  “She’d love to see you, Ronnie.” Melanie reminded him of Ronnie a little. Only, Melanie was a more of a hellion. She might be sweet, but he’d gotten on her bad side. Eric was one lucky son of a gun.

  “I called for her address. We sent flowers to the hospital, but I’d like to mail her a package.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but we want to.”

  Monroe knew all the nice touches were from her, but she always included her traitor husband in the conversation.

  “Send it here and I’ll take it to her.” He gave her his address.

  “Great. Don’t be a stranger now.”

  “Take care, and tell Sam hello for me.”

  With chill bumps peppering his skin, Monroe headed back to the shower and rinsed off. His thoughts drifted back to Melanie. Why couldn’t he get her off his mind?

  It was Sunday and the game was an hour’s drive away, leaving the kids barely enough time for Sunday school. The bad thing about traveling soccer was that the games cut into church time, which was a bone of contention with the players’ parents and the pastor.

  Monroe arrived early to pick up Melanie.

  “Where’s Courtney?” he asked.

  “She’s coming with her cousin.”

  “I can imagine how much sleep she got last night if they had a sleepover.”

  “Plenty. She slept at home. They met up at church.”

  “After the game, I’d like her to ride with us. I was planning to stop by the rehabilitation center to see Grandmother. She’s been asking about you two.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

  Their conversation was so stilted, it wasn’t hard to figure out that he was still uptight.

  Melanie and Monroe were standing together when Joe arrived. Joe had called Melanie Friday night about all the complaints he’d been getting.

  Now Monroe had his clipboard in hand and was explaining each play to Joe. Already he knew each girl by name.

  “Courtney is good at maneuvering the ball from one end of the field to the next. She’s good at setting up for making a goal. She and Connie work well together.”

  Joe took off his blue Explosion cap, scratched his head, and glanced at Melanie before he spoke. “I don’t know about that. With the feud, I try to pair Hickses with Hickses and Carsons with Carsons.”

  “There can’t be a feud on the team,” Monroe repeated. “Either they’re a team or they aren’t.”

  Monroe was so forceful, Joe seemed to check himself not to take a step back.

  Minutes later the girls began to trickle in. Once the game began, Joe made a halfhearted attempt at directing, but early on he gave up and let Monroe take charge. Monroe instructed him on keeping some of the girls on target, while he handled the rest.

  Predictably, the Carsons and Hickses stood apart from each other, as if their children were playing on separate teams. But Melanie noticed that halfway through the game, the kids were forgetting about their animosity. They were actually making goals. Not many, but the opposing team wasn’t slaughtering them the way they usually did.

  Monroe was on them, marching up and down the field, telling them what to do throughout the game. He wore a running suit that molded to him, making him look powerful and fierce. It took some effort for Melanie to concentrate on the game because every time she looked down the field, he was in her line of sight.

  By the time he let Courtney take a break, the child was nearly dragging.

  “Get a quick drink of water from your water bottle and rest, because you’re going back on the field in a couple minutes,” he said, his attention never leaving the field.

  Courtney sat on the ground. It had rained the night before and her cleats and clothes were grimy with mud and grass stains.

  She didn’t have long to rest because, before she knew it, Monroe told her to get ready to go back in. She hopped to her feet and waited on the sideline for his signal.

  They lost the game five to three, and Melanie was surprised to see the girls so cheerful.

  “Good game, good game,” one of the parents said to Monroe.

  Another clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done.”

  The girls lined up to touch hands with the opposing team, then they ran to the sidelines for their snacks. For the first time in the year they had been playing together, teammates didn’t hover in their own little feud areas. They mingled as if the feud had never existed. For a few glorious moments, Carsons were actually talking with Hickses without fighting.

  Joe sidled up to Melanie. “Guess you got your wish.”

  “What?”

  “You always hated the kids feuding.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, Joe.”

  “Wish he could have some effect on them.” He nodded toward the parents.

  “I think they may be beyond help.”

  “Miracles can happen. Look at the game today.” It was clear he was proud. His daughter was goalie and stopped several goals.

  “Your daughter played very well.”

  “Thank you. So did Courtney.”

  Melanie focused her gaze on Monroe as he drank from a bottle of water. He seemed more relaxed around the children than he was around the adults. And although the kids joked with him, it was obvious that they respected him, too.

  “Mr. Bedford. If we ever win a game can we pour our drinks over your head?”

  “Be my guest,” he called out.

  The girls squealed and continued to eat their snacks. Parents started gathering their kids up for the long ride home. Monroe talked to the coach from the other team before he joined Melanie. He looped an arm around her shoulder as if it were a natural gesture, and they walked together to his car.

  Why was he getting so familiar all of a sudden? He had no idea what an e
ffect his nearness had on Melanie. The heat from his body burned into her. Every cell in her being came alive. What the heck was going on here? When her eyes lit on her surroundings, she noticed everyone watching them. Was he deliberately trying to get people to think something was between them? If so, why?

  “Don’t get too close to Mrs. Eudora, Courtney. You’re muddy.”

  “She likes to hug me, Mama.”

  “I know. But you don’t want to get her dirty.”

  Courtney shrugged.

  At the rehabilitation center, while Courtney, wearing her dirty uniform, regaled Eudora with a play-by-play of the game, Monroe watched Melanie. After she’d fiddled around the room, she sat daintily in a chair looking for something to do. It was one of the things he noticed about her. She was always doing something.

  The tight jeans fit her curves like a second skin. The neat little blouse had worked its way out of her slacks and she surreptitiously worked it back in.

  Knowing very well she didn’t like her space invaded, he made sure to stand too close to do just that.

  “I knew Monroe would make a wonderful coach,” his grandmother said, breaking his concentration on Melanie.

  Monroe grunted.

  “He’s a great coach, Mrs. Eudora,” Melanie assured her.

  “Make a great daddy one day, too. He loves children.”

  Monroe sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. Melanie raised her eyebrows at him. But children had her thinking of sex. She hadn’t had any for more than two years. Intimacy with her husband had been nonexistent by the time they’d parted. And she was feeling the loss—especially around Monroe.

  Their visit with Eudora was brief, and Melanie hugged her before she left.

  “Come here, Courtney. Give me a hug,” Mrs. Eudora said.

  “Mama said not to. I’m dirty.”

  “Oh, come here,” the woman insisted. Melanie started to tell Courtney not to lean against Mrs. Eudora, but decided not to. Courtney, dirty clothes and all, fell into the older woman’s arms, and Eudora didn’t seem to mind a sweaty, muddy child wrapped in her arms.

  On the drive home, Courtney fell asleep in the back seat.

  “I’m starved,” Monroe said. “How about dinner out?”

  “Okay. Usually I cook before I leave for church, but business was so busy yesterday, I didn’t have the energy.”

  “Do you have to go in today?”

  “I have both my workers there. They’ll be fine.”

  When they arrived at the restaurant, many other players were there with their families. Courtney went to eat with her cousins while Monroe and Melanie sat together.

  “So how does an obviously successful woman like you end up at a place like this?” he asked.

  “Who said I was successful?”

  He shrugged. “Just an impression.”

  “Bruce and I met in college. He finished law school at the end of my junior year, and we got married. Big mistake. I should have waited to get my degree, but Bruce was very persuasive. I had planned to finish my last year, but I got pregnant right away. I never worked outside the home. And it was years later before I finished my degree.”

  She didn’t seem the kind to leave a husband for another man, especially with a child. There weren’t any whispers around town of her even dating. And Eudora was trying to set him up with her.

  “What happened?”

  Melanie was silent for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to respond.

  “I got tired of my husband’s affairs and reached my limit of the way he treated me.”

  “How did he treat you?”

  “As if I was his possession. Our marriage was all about Bruce.”

  With the way she’d lit into him, Monroe couldn’t imagine her taking a secondary role.

  “How long were you married?” he asked.

  “Eight years. I stayed in it seven years too long.”

  “Why did you finally leave?”

  “I guess it was too many lonely nights at home. I was sick of the women calling for him. Finally, I tried to find a lawyer. But as soon as they found out who my husband was, they wouldn’t represent me. He’s president of the D.C. bar association.”

  “Why are you here, Melanie? With your talents you could make it big anywhere. You could work your way up to be a major player in a top corporation. You wouldn’t have to get mixed up in this feud. Here, people remember everything, and only give you grief.”

  “I like the fact that I know my neighbors. The people around me care. I like feeling that I’m part of something. That I’m connected. And that my child can grow up with that connection.”

  “Does Courtney feel the same way?”

  “Maybe not now, because she’s new to the area, but she’ll adapt. She’ll have close ties to family.”

  “You seem so sure.” While Monroe felt stifled.

  “I’m not sure about anything. I’m winging it as I go along.”

  The waitress took their order and they headed toward the salad bar. Melanie got a plate and piled it with lettuce, tomato and cucumber. Monroe’s salad was piled high on his plate.

  When they returned to their seats, they continued the conversation.

  “I think Pearl said you were born here.”

  “I lived here for ten years before we moved to Chicago,” Melanie said. “The slower pace here is great for families with kids.”

  “Not for you.”

  “Only because I’m a single mother and I end up running things like the tenants’ association and becoming president of the PTA. But I did those things when I was in D.C., so that’s nothing new.”

  “Don’t forget you’re a soccer mom.”

  Melanie laughed. “There is that.”

  “And you look after Eudora. How do you do it all?”

  “I don’t think about it. I’m fairly organized. It was pretty tough when we were trying to get the plaza going, but now that everything’s started, it’s easier.”

  “What was your major in college?”

  “Business and marketing.”

  “How come I’m not surprised?”

  Their food arrived and they began to talk about other things.

  At one point Monroe noticed people in the restaurant glancing their way, but no one approached them and that was just fine with him. All the stares didn’t stop him from taking every opportunity to brush Melanie’s hand, to inhale her perfume.

  Dinner was drawing to a close, but Monroe wasn’t in a hurry for them to part ways. When they got home, Courtney ran into the house while Monroe and Melanie sat on the front step.

  Her eyes met his and something deep stirred inside Monroe.

  His body went on full alert every time he got near Melanie. He knew he needed to think long and hard before he started something with another woman.

  But if he didn’t kiss her, he was going to die. He pulled her close to him and took her mouth. The sweetness of the kiss nearly knocked him off balance.

  “Are you going to slap me or send me away?” he asked.

  “I’m not going to slap you.” Her voice was husky and seductive. “I’m not going to send you away.”

  “From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted to hold you in my arms.”

  He embraced her and kissed her so sweetly it took his breath away. His tongue dueled with hers. He liked the taste and scent of her. His hands roamed over her soft curves, and he knew he was in trouble when he felt her soft hands on him, caressing his neck, his back.

  He was always too cautious. But now, he tossed caution to the wind and dragged her onto his lap. Her body curved invitingly into his. He heard a noise in the background and suddenly Melanie was off his lap and sitting at least a foot away from him.

  “Mama?”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, honey?”

  “I need help with science.”

  “I’ll be right in.”

  Monroe took a long breath. “Think she saw us?”

  “I don’t think so.”

>   He gathered Melanie into his arms for one last quick kiss, then let her go and marched to his car. He knew he was courting disaster, but something told him he had to see this through.

  Melanie was sorting laundry and Courtney was in the shower when the phone rang. Another altercation between Milton and Elmore.

  She knocked on the bathroom door. “Hurry up and dry off, Courtney. Uncle Milton and Mr. Elmore are at it again.”

  “Again? I’m tired. Why don’t you just let them fight? They’re grown.”

  “Honey, they’re old. They might hurt themselves.”

  In five minutes, Courtney was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “I don’t have many clothes left, Mama.”

  “I know, honey. I’ll finish the laundry when I get back.” Melanie drove the curving roads toward her uncle Milton’s. The area was dotted with fields and the occasional house. The aroma of freshly mowed grass wafted into the car. Blooming perennials and annuals brightened the yards. The five miles seemed to fly by, and before Melanie knew it, she was near the farms. Even before she pulled into the path leading to the garden, Melanie smelled the pigs.

  “It stinks, Mom. I don’t like coming here.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m gonna be sick.”

  “You’ll survive. Stay in the car,” she told Courtney. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t bring Courtney along. She didn’t like for her daughter to witness adults arguing.

  Melanie sprinted out of the car. Each man was on his own property shouting across the road to the other.

  “What is it now?” Melanie asked, stopping between them.

  Milton pointed an arm toward an area in his garden where the boar had rooted.

  “Look at that mess. I told him to keep his hogs in his pens. He can’t have his pigs rooting in my freshly planted garden. He needs better fences.”

  “I have good fences. The boar gets mean sometimes and plows right through the fence,” Elmore said, his thumbs tucked in his suspenders.

  Melanie sighed. “Is it the same boar that got out before, Elmore?”