Southern Hospitality (Hot Southern Nights)

by Amie Louellen

  “Six.”

  He faltered. “I needed to see for myself.”

  “I—I told you I couldn’t get pregnant—” she said, hating the fact that one horrible word kept knocking around inside her head. Responsibility.

  He shrugged negligently. “I had to be sure.”

  Responsibility … responsibility … Not love, just obligation. She didn’t need any more time to think things over. There was only one path to take.

  “Well, you can go back to Tennessee with a clear conscience.” Her heart bled, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. What purpose would it serve? To trap him with obligation? To slow him down on his road to the White House?

  No thanks.

  He was too damned noble. If she told him about the baby, then he’d want to marry her and that would mess up everything. She’d married once without love, she wasn’t going to do it again. There was more at stake than just her. She had to do what was right for them both—her and the baby.

  “Our weekend … ” he started, then expelled a breath as if he had been holding it for some time. “It was special, and I don’t know how we’d work it out, but I thought we might could give it a chance and see where it takes us.”

  She had never wanted anything as much in her life, but if they gave it a chance and it didn’t work, then where would they be? Divorced. Bitter. Forcing a child to spend precious time split between dueling parents on either side of the Mason Dixon line. Not a pretty scenario. She didn’t need any more time to figure that out either.

  “We had chemistry, that’s all,” she said with a stiff shrug of one shoulder.

  “It’s a start.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s just chemistry.”

  “What if it could be more than that?” he asked, but Roxanne wasn’t listening.

  “What are you going to do, Malcolm? Move to Chicago? Have me move to Jefferson County?” It wasn’t totally out of the question and yet …

  He faltered. “I don’t know. I—”

  “Well, I do.”

  His expression turned cold, protective. “What are you trying to say, Roxanne?”

  “The weekend’s over, Daniels.” Then she steeled her heart and said the only thing she could think of to get him to leave. “We had a good fuck. Just leave it at that.”

  He jerked his head back as if he had been slapped. “I see.”

  She could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him, his back ramrod straight with pride. She was taut, too, trying to hold back the tears and emotions that threatened her very being.

  “I’m sorry to have taken your time.” He nodded his head curtly, then turned on his heel as if he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer. “I’ll show myself out.” He nearly knocked over Jonas who was standing in the threshold watching them both.

  Malcolm pushed past him without a word and disappeared from sight. Seconds later, she heard the front door slam.

  Jonas looked back in the direction of the sound, then turned his blue eyes to Roxanne. “This is—without a doubt—the stupidest thing you have ever done.”

  She bit back the tears that threatened. “What are you doing now? Keeping track?”

  “Roxanne, you love him.”

  She shook her head, but the words stabbed like a knife through her heart. “You can’t fall in love in four days.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  “What about the baby?”

  She wheeled on him, her chest burning. But it would do no good to hide the truth from her brother. He would find out soon enough. “How do you know about that?”

  “Twintuition?”

  She shook her head.

  “You just told me,” he tried again.

  Roxanne glared at him.

  “Okay, okay, I found this.” He held up the white test wand.

  “You dug that out of the trash?”

  “Go tell him, Roxanne.”

  “I peed on that.”

  “You’re avoiding the issue.”

  She was avoiding the issue, but Jonas had no idea what it had cost her to send Malcolm away. She fought back the tears, wishing her brother would leave her alone so she could cry in private. “I go after him, and what’s that going to prove? That he’s noble and honorable and—”

  “In love with you?”

  “He’s not in love.”

  “He flew over five hundred miles to see you.”

  “He flew five hundred miles to get a pizza. He came to see me because he was ‘in the neighborhood.’” She made mock quotations around the last three words.

  “He could have called.”

  At Jonas’s quiet words, Roxanne stopped. Malcolm could have called. He could have called from a dozen places, but he said he wanted to see for himself.

  “This may be the only chance you get,” Jonas prompted quietly. “Don’t let it slip by. Don’t let this be the one thing in your life that you regret.”

  She wiped away the moisture on her cheeks with the back of her hand. “God, it sucks having a brother who’s a psychiatrist.”

  “Go after him. Go tell him the truth. The man deserves at least that much.”

  She nodded, the tears streaming down her face unheeded now. She kissed Jonas on the cheek, then hurried through the house after Malcolm.

  Her father was standing in the foyer, a questioning frown puckering his brow. “I heard a door slam. What—?” he started, but Roxanne just bussed him on the cheek and said, “Ask Jonas.”

  Malcolm was standing near the curb, his cell phone pressed to his ear when Roxanne threw open the door.

  She ran down the sidewalk toward him, mindless of her bare feet unprotected against the chilly October weather.

  He turned back toward the house to check the house number to tell the cab company or because he heard her feet smacking against the pavement, she didn’t know. She stopped about twenty feet from him, not trusting herself to get any closer without crawling into his skin and begging him to stay.

  “I have something I need to tell you.” She was breathless with exertion and anxiety.

  “Fine. Thank you,” he said to dispatch before turning his attention to Roxanne. His eyes were hard, and Roxanne couldn’t blame him. She’d hurt him. He’d laid his pride on the line, and she’d tromped all over it. “You have fifteen minutes before the cab gets here.”

  She had at least twenty; Chicago cabs were always late. “I—” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “I didn’t mean what I said back there. The weekend I spent with you was the best time of my life. Well, aside from the murder charges and nearly getting shot.” A bark of laughter escaped her, tears spilled down her cheeks. “But—”

  “But what?”

  “Can a person fall in love in a weekend?”

  “You tell me.” His words were clipped and matter-of-fact as he stood there unapologetically, the wind ruffling his auburn hair.

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I’m confused. I mean, we’ve only known each other four days.”

  “Technically we’ve known each other over two months.”

  “Don’t.” She held up her hands.

  Malcolm shook his head, then his aloof demeanor seemed to melt. “I’m sorry. My answer is yes. Yes, it is possible to fall in love in four days. It’s possible to fall in love in a split second, because that’s what happened to me. I walked into your jail cell and from the moment I saw you, I knew. God knows I fought it, but you turned my world upside down. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it was there all the same. I love you, Roxanne.”

  That was exactly what she needed to hear.

  She flew across the span of driveway separating them, threw herself into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her sudden attack caught him off guard. He flung his arms around her, and they tumbled backwards on the winter-browned lawn. She landed on top of him with a thud and locked her mouth onto his. He tasted of whiskey and lost days and the bright, bright future that lay ahe
ad.

  They were both breathless when she lifted her mouth many heartbeats later. Roxanne loved the feel of him underneath her, their bodies rising and falling with each gasp of air they took. She gazed down at him, searching his brown eyes for the love she knew she would find there. “I love you, Malcolm B. Daniels IV,” she said, her breath mingling with his.

  He tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. “I’m so very glad.”

  “And, Malcolm … ” She paused, bracing her elbows on the ground and holding herself where she could see his face and still not let him go. “I—I’m going to have a baby.”

  His eyes darkened, their color deepening until she could no longer see their pupils, just unfathomable brown, deep and unreadable. “What?” he whispered.

  “I’m going to have a baby.” She said the words again, this time with more confidence.

  “But—”

  “But what?”

  “You said never—”

  “I know.”

  “And then you said—”

  “I know.”

  “A baby?”

  She nodded. “Are you happy? Please say you’re happy.”

  The shock seemed to crack, and he smiled, the biggest smile she had ever seen. “I’m beyond happy. I’m—” He threaded his fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth to his once again, sealing the deal, making her his forever and always.

  He broke off the kiss to gesture around them. “Should you be—”

  “It’s gonna be fine.” And she knew it. Just as sure as she knew her own name, she knew the child she carried inside her would grow up healthy and happy. The thought filled her with warmth and love. She kissed Malcolm again.

  Several long moments later, she lifted her head, and they laughed, their labored breaths misty in the chilly October air.

  “We should go inside,” Malcolm said, but he kissed her instead.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she agreed. “Then you can meet my dad.”

  “That sounds great.” But he made no move to release her.

  “And Nina.”

  “And Nina,” he repeated with another small kiss.

  “They’re probably watching from the windows.”

  “Let them watch,” he murmured.

  With a tiny flick of her hand she motioned toward his discarded cell phone in the grass nearby. “Should we call and tell them you don’t need a cab anymore?”

  Malcolm cupped her face in his hands and pulled her mouth back to his. “They’ll figure it out soon enough,” he whispered against her lips.

  And they did, for Roxanne was still splayed across his chest on the front lawn when the bright yellow car pulled up twenty minutes later.

  Epilogue

  Malcolm let himself into the warm interior of Magnolia Acres and followed the sounds until he found them. He was always overwhelmed when he saw them—in a good way. He woke up each morning and thanked God for his blessings. He did the same when he closed his eyes each night. And sometimes at lunch. There were just too many to count.

  Last November, he’d been reelected to the Upper House of the General Assembly for his second term. Oh, he still harbored a few dreams of being president—of the PTA. After a couple of more terms in the Senate and when the time was right, he’d put in his bid for the governorship. But those were abstract plans, not written in stone, not recorded in his iPhone. That was something Roxanne had taught him: planning was good, but seat-of-the-pants could be good, too.

  Unwilling to disturb the play before him, Malcolm put the package on the antique chair beside the door, leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, and simply watched.

  His family was in the newly restored parlor. Bing Crosby’s velvet voice filled the air with dreams of a white Christmas, something seldom seen in western Tennessee. A cheery fire crackled in the sandstone fireplace despite the mild winter they were having. But Roxanne was used to having northern winters and a fire at Christmas. Knowing her, she had turned on the air conditioner again this year to balance out the temperature. Her unorthodox ways just made his smile that much wider.

  She stood on the stepladder hanging bright plastic ornaments from equally brightly colored ribbons on their ten-foot, totally child-friendly Douglas fir. Elizabeth Louise Daniels, or Lulu as everyone called her, and her twin, Beauregard Joseph Daniels, toddled around the room after Miss Kitty and her grown-up litter of kittens. Or rather, Beau sat on the blanket and waited for one of the cats to get close enough to grab, while Lulu chased after them with a single-mindedness that made Malcolm cringe.

  The twins were the spittin’ image of their mother. Dark curly hair and crystal blue eyes. Malcolm thought it was only fair. After all—regardless of what Roxanne said—they were more her miracle than his, and he thought it rather fitting that they favor her. But their personalities were as different as night and day. Beau was laidback to the point of lazy, and Lulu was a fireball just like her mother.

  What a wonderful family. His eyes roamed over his wife of almost two years. She was even more beautiful now than when he’d first met her. Her eyes sparkled with the love they shared with each other and their children and her cheeks wore a natural pink blush that she swore came from chasing after Lulu. God, he loved her. He loved them all.

  She sensed his gaze or maybe she heard his sigh of contentment. She turned, her face lighting up as she saw him. “Daddy’s home.”

  His heart soared every time he heard those words.

  Lulu ran toward him, her arms outstretched. “Da-dee.”

  “How’s my number one girl?” He scooped her up and gave her a quick kiss before she pushed against him needing to be free once again.

  “Down, Da-dee,” Lulu demanded.

  Malcolm bussed her once more on the cheek before setting her down and lifting Beau high into the air. He planted a soft kiss in the sweet little crook where Beau’s neck met his shoulder. The easygoing toddler laughed and threw his pudgy little arms around his neck as Malcolm carried him over to his mother.

  Roxanne leaned down and gave Malcolm a kiss that was all too short and all too chaste. Later. Much later when the kids were in bed, he’d greet her properly.

  She propped her behind on the top rung of the ladder, and Malcolm knew she was soaking in the moment just as he had done earlier. What a miracle this all was.

  After being told by the doctors that she would never be able to have children of her own, the twins were walking marvels. But to Malcolm they simply were precious reminders of the love he and Roxanne had made one hot August night.

  “Have you heard from Doodah?”

  Malcolm smiled at the name Roxanne had come up with for Truman. “He’ll be here in the morning to see what Santa brought.”

  “Good. Jonas called. He and Dad and Nina should be arriving in a couple of hours. He’s bringing his new girlfriend. I think she might be ‘the one.’” Roxanne made a face somewhere between hopefulness and disapproval.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t go get them from the airport?”

  Roxanne shook her head, then turned and pulled one tiger striped cat from the tree. “They’ve rented a car. There’s no sense in making the drive to get them and then have to turn around in a couple of days and take them back.” She scratched the tom cat behind the ears, then set the troublesome feline back on the floor before going after Lulu. Their adventuresome baby girl had found a Christmas stocking and had put it on like a hat, the wide mouthed brim dropping low over her mischievous blue eyes.

  Roxanne hopped down from the ladder and pulled the stocking from Lulu’s head, the static electricity making the dark strands stand on end. “Peek-a-boo,” she said, then turned her attention back to Malcolm. “Oh, I almost forgot. Lila and Elliot called and promised to stop by tomorrow afternoon for coffee and pie. I can’t wait to see her.”

  Malcolm had grown accustomed to the relationship between his once-upon-a-time almost-fiancée and his wife. Lila was four months pregnant and so happy she giggled every time she and Roxanne talked. They had be
come fast friends as they helped Miss Gertie plan her wedding to Roy Fulton, a retired attorney from Knoxville. Like Elliot and Lila, the older couple had met on the fateful evening of Truman’s seventy-fifth birthday party and had been an item ever since. Miss Gertie had been right, that August night had been magical. Their wedding had gone off without a hitch in February of last year. It had taken some convincing, but Roy finally allowed Miss Gertie to roll down the aisle with Pablo in his customary place in the lady’s lap, though he drew the line at having a dog for a ring bearer.

  “What about Miss Beulah?” he asked.

  “She has a performance tonight, but she promised to come after the first of the year when things slow down.”

  As the Daniels household had gotten bigger, Miss Beulah had decided to give up her apartment and move to Memphis to be closer to the King. She willed the brood of cats to the budding family and was now doing her act at one of the casinos in Tunica.

  No longer a landlord, Malcolm was finally able to start re-renovating the house to how it looked during the war—with all the modern conveniences, of course. They’d managed to get the downstairs complete, but the second and third floors were strictly off limits for a couple more months. He had to admit, he missed his female neighbors, but the house was still noisy and full, this time with the laughter of children and the pitter patter of little kitty feet.

  “I have something for you.” Malcolm said.

  Roxanne smiled. “I bet you do.”

  He gave her that, Is that all you think about? look. “Seriously. Debbie Mae called me from the post office. She thought you might want this before Christmas.”

  Beau still cradled close to his chest, he grabbed up the small flat box from the chair by the parlor entrance. Roxanne squealed.

  “It’s my book. It’s my book!”

  The children just stared at her, wide-eyed and curious as to the reason for all of the excitement.

  “Open it,” he said.

  Her hands shook as she pulled the tab to release the advance copy of The Many Adventures of Madelina Mouse.

  It was a story she had made up when she and Jonas were little.