by Jillian Neal
She tried to formulate words while tugging the t-shirt lower down her body, but her mind offered her nothing but drivel. John’s mother looked equally as stunned. The two bags of groceries slipped from her hands onto the large dining table. She glanced into the living room and then back to Arley.
“Uh, I’m … uh, sorry … ma’am.” Arley managed something resembling a full thought.
“Well, the beloved game ball is here, along with more books than the Buckhead branch of the library, so I’m in the right condo.” John’s mother managed a far more intelligent statement. “I’m Mary Ann Rowan; and you are?”
“Arley.” She managed to knot the loosened ends of John’s t-shirt in her fist and plant it firmly on the side against her hip to keep it from revealing anything his mother certainly didn’t want to see. “I’m Arley Copeland, ma’am. John went to work for a little while. He’ll be back soon. I think. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you’d be coming by.”
Mary Ann chuckled. “Well, John has never let anyone stay here, so you must be a pretty special girl, Arley. It’s very nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Oh, thank you.” Arley still couldn’t seem to order her heart to stop pounding in her throat or her breaths to regulate. “Uh, Ms. Rowan, ma’am, I swear I would go put on something else, but I just put all of my clothes in the washing machine. They’re all wet.”
When Mary Ann Rowan grinned, her blue eyes sparkled just like John’s.
“Let me go see if there’s anything else I can put on. I can just wear my robe or something.” She raced back into John’s bedroom and whimpered audibly. “This is so not the way I wanted to meet his mother.” She huffed. John and his mom are really close and … “Oh, dear Lord. I don’t even have panties on!” She probably thinks I’m a complete hussy. Just wait ‘til she finds out what I do for a living. Arley debated crawling in John’s bed and giving into the tears that were threatening to overtake her, but Mary Ann Rowan was standing in John’s condo, waiting on her to figure out how to cover herself. She pulled open drawers haphazardly. Boxers! She shook her head. Wearing her son’s boxers would definitely not make any mother happy, and John mostly wore boxer-briefs. That certainly wouldn’t work.
The next drawer contained John’s t-shirts. She picked out a longer UGA shirt that would at least cover her ample ass. Another drawer down she located sweatpants and basketball shorts. John was much taller than she was. Sweatpants weren’t going to work. With a silent prayer that her large derrière would fit in his basketball shorts, she slid them on and willed the dryer to be finished drying her panties faster. She cinched the waistband string on the shorts, swallowed down a choking amount of horrifying embarrassment, and forced herself to go back into the living room.
Mary Ann was in John’s kitchen putting away groceries. She offered Arley a very sweet grin when she reappeared. “Please don’t be embarrassed, Arley. If I know my son, and I’m pretty sure I do, he would have deeply appreciated coming home to you just like that. If you make him smile, that’s all that matters to me.”
Certain that her face was never going to return to its typical pale state, Arley squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s not exactly how I envisioned meeting you. He loves you so much. I really wanted to make a good impression.”
Arley rubbed her hands over her face and reopened her eyes to discover that Mary Ann’s grin had widened further. “You made a perfect first impression, sweetheart. I am not upset in the least. In fact, since John’s not home yet and traffic is always a disaster, how about if I teach you to make one of his favorite meals?”
“Really?”
“There are three ways to access my son’s heart, Arley. It looks like you have the first one covered, and since you’re here I’d say you’ve been giving him a run for his money in the brains department.” She winked at Arley, who couldn’t help but laugh. “But it will have to be reached all three ways. Truthfully, he’s tried to forget that he has a heart lately. I have a very good feeling about you. My feelings are never wrong, and the other way to his heart is through his stomach. So, let’s get busy.”
“Thank you. You’re so sweet.”
Mary Ann shook her head. “I love my little boy more than life itself, but I’ve been worried about him lately. He called me this morning on his way to work to tell me he’d come back from Ryan’s. He didn’t know I was coming over, or I’m sure he would have told you. I did try to raise him right. Anyway, I haven’t heard John sound that happy in over a year. I thought it must’ve been the beach or seeing Ryan. He really misses him, but now I know it was you. Therefore, you inadvertently made my entire week. Now, let’s get cooking, and I’ll try to get out of here before he gets home.”
“Oh, Ms. Rowan, no. You should at least stay and eat.”
“We’ll see. I did have two papers for English Lit I wanted John to proofread for class tomorrow, but I’d trade a lower grade to see my son smile again in a heartbeat.”
Arley swooned. Unable to help herself, she threw her arms around Ms. Rowan and hugged her tightly. John’s mother embraced her readily. Arley’s entire body drank in the hug. It was how a mother’s hug was supposed to feel; warm, accepting, kind, and loving. Arley’s own mother had never hugged her like that. His mother seemed perfectly willing to extend the embrace as long as Arley needed her. The last hug she’d received that managed to soften the entire world around her had been just before her father had died.
When she finally forced herself to pull away, Mary Ann cradled her face in her capable hands and gazed at her like she might just love her, too.
“I still want you to eat with us, but I could proofread your papers for you, Ms. Rowan. I’m a writer. I’m pretty good with words and grammar and everything. I’d be happy to go over them.”
“Copeland. You’re not …?”
“Dylan Copeland’s daughter.” Arley nodded.
“Oh, my goodness. How did you and John meet?”
Arley dove into the tale of she and John showing up at the Inn. She added in a little bit about what had driven her to the tiny, hidden away beach on the North Carolina shore. When she finished, Mary Ann’s excitement was palpable. Arley couldn’t help but grin.
“You both just happened to show up at the Inn on the same day at almost the same moment?”
Arley nodded.
“Did he tell you about The Man from Wellington?
“Uh, you mean when he read it to you while you were recovering from your surgery?” John hadn’t told his mother about the car wreck.
“No, not that.”
A slight sense of panic worked through Arley. She didn’t want to betray John’s confidence, but his mother clearly knew something.
“Um, hmm. He did tell you, and he told you that I didn’t know about that car wreck.”
“Wow, you’re good.” Arley grimaced.
Mary Ann sighed. “That would have been my end. I’ve lived through a lot of stuff, but I couldn’t have survived that. So, we were going to make chicken and dumplings, which John loves, but now we’re going all out. Do you know how to fry chicken, sweetheart?”
“Yes ma’am, but there wasn’t any buttermilk.”
“A girl after my own heart. I brought buttermilk and everything else we’ll need. If you really don’t mind looking over those papers, I’ll prep everything, and then you’re going to cook it. I’ll be working on the papers when John gets home.” She shared a conspiratorial wink with Arley.
They both set to work. Arley went through Mary Ann’s papers several times, noted the grammar mistakes, and made a few suggestions. She showed her how to use the editing feature in Word on the laptop John had gotten for his mom when she’d started school.
John’s mother showed Arley how to make the batter for the chicken, helped her slice the green tomatoes, and peel the potatoes. She prepared sweet tea just the way John preferred, prepped everything for the slaw, and then began her instructions. “Never buy green tomatoes from the store. They have no flavor, and fried green toma
toes are his favorite. Always go to a roadside stand, and the trick of it is to dry them thoroughly, then salt them, then dry them again before you batter them. If they’re wet, the batter will come off in the oil and you’ll just have an oily, saggy tomato.”
Thrilled to be learning and to be cooking, Arley tried to absorb every piece of advice Mary Ann offered her. She methodically mixed the cornbread batter and poured it into the heated iron skillet.
“John likes to pretend that my mashed potatoes are somehow a healthy vegetable. I generally don’t mention the sheer amount of cream cheese I put in them and then the amount of cheddar I top them with.” She rolled her eyes as Arley laughed.
“Oh, and don’t ask him about his middle name.” This piece of advice seemed to disturb Mary Ann.
“You named him after his dad.” Realization set harshly in Arley’s gut. His mother nodded.
“I promise. I won’t ask him.”
They continued to work and chat for the next hour.
Arley’s cell phone chirped and both of the ladies grinned gleefully. “He says he’ll be here in ten minutes.” Another fevered blush took up residence in her cheeks as she read the requests he’d added at the end.
Mary Ann continued to laugh. “I’m certain I do not want to know what else he said in that text, but you keep cooking. I’m going to work on the papers.” She settled at the dining room table and managed to look like she’d been there working all along. Arley eased the frying tomatoes from the oil and drained them on the paper towels, just like John’s mother had instructed her.
She was turning the chicken breasts in another skillet when John stepped into the foyer. “I’m home. Get naked for me, baby girl!” he called as he closed the front door. Arley bit her lips together to keep from guffawing. He tossed his briefcase down and noticed their guest. “Mom!” His eyes rounded and his mouth hung open in shock.
“Hi, sweetheart. I came by to bring you some groceries, and Arley offered to help me with my English Lit papers.” Her entire body shook with her silent laughter. She raised her eyebrows in mocked challenge waiting on John to try and cover his gaffe.
Arley dissolved into a puddle of silent, hysterical giggles in the kitchen.
“Uh … okay. Well, hey, Mama.” He leaned down to hug his mother while Arley offered him a mischievous grin. “Let’s maybe just pretend you didn’t hear me say that.” His voice took on a pleading edge.
“Say what?” Ms. Rowan winked at John.
He made his way into the kitchen and drew Arley into his arms. “Might’ve texted me and told me she was here,” he whispered in her ear as he helped himself to squeezing a handful of her ass.
“I could have, but then you wouldn’t have said that,” she explained with a vexing glint in her eyes.
Shaking his head at her, he popped her backside rather hard.
“And maybe save all of that for when I go home,” his mother called from the table.
Arley was still laughing as John’s brow furrowed. He stepped back and took in the outfit she was wearing.
“I can honestly say that is the first time I have ever slapped my own basketball shorts.”
“Long story.” Arley wrinkled her nose.
“I take it that’s not what you were wearing when she let herself in.”
“Nope, I was wearing nothing but one of your undershirts.” She buried her face against his chest as he began laughing as well. “Sorry I missed that, baby doll, but how long have you been cooking?”
“I love to cook. It helps me plot, and your mom brought all of these groceries.” She shrugged and felt mildly guilty, but Mary Ann had worked it so that Arley was the chef and she was just the instructor.
“Well, let’s eat. It smells incredible. I’m starved.”
John’s groans of satisfactions over the meal delighted both of the women he was dining with. He had three helpings of dinner and then two pieces of the pie Arley had concocted all on her own. “This is better than the Montgomery’s.”
“I think so, too!” Her eyes flashed in delight. The pie was delicious.
“She’s quite a cook, and I’m pretty sure my professor is going to know I had professional help on those papers. You definitely have a way with words, Arley.” Ms. Rowan beamed.
“She has a way with most everything, Mama.” John winked at Arley, completing the perfection of their evening.
“Well, you best not let her get away then, dear. But I’m off. Arley, thank you so much for this dinner and for all of your help on those papers. I’m going to make your changes. If you need anything while you’re in town, sweetheart, give me a call.”
John stood and saw his mother out, then returned to the kitchen where Arley was running soapy water to do the dishes. “You, Ms. Copeland, go sit down. You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
“I’m sorry I had to borrow your clothes. I still haven’t put mine in the dryer.”
“I’m loving you in the t-shirt. The shorts are a little big for you, but you can wear anything of mine you want.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t have shorts that would fit over my fat ass,” she huffed.
“Hey, what the hell is all that about? You, my beautiful baby doll, are curved in all the places a woman is supposed to be curved. Your body drives me wild!” The hungry look in his eye gave credence to his words. Though she’d just consumed enough food to last her a week, she suddenly felt lighter than air.
“So, what’d you and my mama talk about all afternoon?”
“She’s so sweet, John. I love her.” I love you, too, but I won’t be saying that out loud for a while.
He beamed. “She is pretty great. I’m glad you got to meet her, as long as she didn’t go into my more knuckle-headed stunts when I was a kid.”
“I did hear about you knocking the mirror off of her car when you clipped a mailbox and then trying to deny it when you weren’t supposed to be driving without her in the car.”
John laughed. “Thankfully, my lawyering skills have improved in the last fifteen years or so. If it happened today, I’m pretty sure I could place blame on the positioning of the mailbox along the road or on the fact that our neighbor’s teenage daughter was dancing topless in her bedroom. I could see her through her window, and naturally, I was distracted by her flagrant disregard for public decency laws.”
Arley laughed at him outright. The melody of their joint laughter filled her. “I’m betting Mary Ann doesn’t know about the topless dancer.”
“Oh, Mama probably knows. She knows most everything. I couldn’t ever get much by her.”
Fourteen
Tuesday morning, John was thrilled that he didn’t have to return to his office for another week. He was rather looking forward to seeing Arley’s apartment and learning more about her. The way she fit into his life was astounding. He’d left the office at the stroke of five o’clock all week, desperate to get back home to her. They texted throughout the day. She’d gotten little writing done after she’d confessed that his condo was so noisy she was having trouble concentrating. He’d immediately taken her to Lenox mall to purchase a rather nice pair of noise-cancelling headphones. She walked around holding them like they were the most precious gift she’d ever received. He’d tried to tempt her into letting him buy her a new Mac laptop, but she’d refused.
Currently, she was sound asleep, completely naked and tangled in his sheets. He grinned. She was beautiful, and he knew precisely how he wanted to awaken her. Easing away from her momentarily, he repositioned himself so his shoulders were between her thighs that he’d gently separated. Her eyes flashed open with the first stroke of his tongue. “Morning, baby doll.”
A few hours later, they were heading to Birmingham. She was a nervous wreck. “Arley, baby, this hearing is going to last less than ten minutes. I submitted the emails you had. We’ll take the letters you have at home with us tomorrow. The judge will immediately make whomever is the executor of your dad’s estate pay you for all the months you weren’t paid, and each m
onth the next payment will be sent to your bank account. You’re gonna draw blood if you gnaw on that lip anymore.”
“Sorry.” Arley wasn’t nervous about the hearing, per se. She was nervous about seeing her family and about John meeting them, but she was absolutely terrified about what might happen after the trial. Was he really going to stay in Birmingham with her all week? Would she be invited back to Atlanta with him? Where did this wild rollercoaster end … and when?
When they crossed the state line into Alabama, John grimaced.
“Do you hate Alabama that much?”
He forced a chuckle. “Just too far from Sanford Stadium and too damn close to Bryant Denny.”
Her temper flared suddenly. She’d been walking on ragged edge for too long. Every day she spent with him was more perfect than the one before, and the knowledge that it might all be over soon had worn her thin. “You promised you’d never lie to me.” She narrowed her eyes.
He took his eyes off the road and stared at her in stunned disbelief. “I’m not lying.”
“Well, not entirely, but you are some.” She always knew. She could read people better than she’d ever been able to speak to them.
He sighed. “My dad lives in Mobile. He kind of ruined the whole damn state for me, I guess.”
“Oh, sorry.” Arley felt terrible she’d asked. She should have remembered that.
“S’ok. Just wish you’d relax.”
“I’m trying. It’s just a lot to try to comprehend. I can’t believe I’m taking my family to court over my father’s money. It’s a little too ‘Maury meets Geraldo’ for me. If I got a surprise makeover, we’d win a Daytime Emmy.”
John’s chuckle and kind grin soothed her almost as much as the fact that he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a tender kiss along her knuckles. “I’ll be right beside you the entire time, and I swear there will be no DNA reveals or discussion of whose baby daddy is whose. And if anybody tries to make you over, they have to go through me because I think you’re beautiful just the way you are.”