“Makes great stew,” he said.
“I’ll just take your word for that,” she said with wide eyes.
The old man smiled. His teeth weren’t in good shape, slightly yellowed and few broken. He nodded his head as he stuffed the decapitated snake into his bag, then asked for a cabbage that he also placed in the bag, before heading over the rise to the steps.
“If you ain’t got no plans, you and my boy come up for supper this weekend,” he said. “I’ll have Ma cook you up a meal a city gal would like.”
“By that, you mean no possum pie or rattlesnake stew? Thanks, my citified sensibilities appreciate you,” she said.
He smiled again at her, this time wider. “Albus,” he said, “or you can call me Pap or Pa, whichever rolls out smoother across your citified sensibilities.”
“Khloe or Woman, as your son likes to call me,” she told him. “That whole woman thing doesn’t sit well with me, though.”
“Or your citified sensibilities?” he said with a wider grin. “In these parts, Beau using that word means a great deal. Not like a possession, but a label for the one he has chosen to be his. No man dares cross him or touch his woman. You shall be cared for and looked after even if his eyes closed tomorrow. His folks are now your folks.”
It happened. Just when she thought it never would occur until the first born she’d created slipped out of her baby maker that she would find a reason to smile, Albus Montgomery made her lips move into a semi half-moon.
“Pap, that means a lot, especially hearing it come from you,” she said.
He raised his gloved hand, mumbled thanks, and set out back up the hill from whence he came. An odd odor wafted up, hitting her in the nose. Sniffing about to find the smell, Khloe realized with some dismay, that the scent was her own body. She smelled like a rat had climbed into her trousers and died. The long ride, the wedding, and sleeping on a couch bed without any water touching her body had left its mark. Heading to the bathroom, Khloe noticed that the bathroom door locked but no others in the house did.
Securing herself inside the bathroom, she showered and changed into a loosely fitted dress. As she pulled the fabric over her head, her stomach rumbled, indicating her body required food. Coming from the bedroom into the main house, she screamed at the back of a man’s head sitting at the kitchen table.
Jethro screamed, too.
“What the hell is wrong with you screaming like that? You scared the bejeezus out of me,” he said.
“Why in the hell are you sitting in my kitchen?”
“I brought you lunch and a cell phone,” he said.
“I have a cell phone,” she countered.
“It won’t work up here, you have to have a phone that uses Montgomery Communications chip,” he said. “Beau’s company is the only provider in a 50-mile radius.”
“Then put the chip in my phone,” she snapped at him.
“Didn’t think about that,” Jethro replied, looking down at his hands and the gift he’d brought, feeling hurt by her dismissal. Khloe read the feelings of rejection off his expression and tempered her tone when she spoke to him again.
“Mr. Montgomery, Magistrate, Jebbo, I’m sorry. You gave me a fright,” she said. “My apologies, and thank you for bringing me lunch.”
“Jethro, my name is Jethro and well, that’s more like it,” he told her, feeling more satisfied in the change in her tone. “I would have called, but I didn’t have your number. Even if I did, the Community Nurse needs to be a local number for the business and such.”
“So, this is an official visit,” she said.
“Kinda,” he replied, his cheeks growing warm under her scrutiny. “Figured you might have been lonely and scared up here, so I brought lunch and wanted to tell you about Friday movie nights at my place. Me and Ennis love the old Hollywood movies, cowboys, murder mystery, dramas, and such.”
“That is so sweet of you,” she said, taking a seat at the table and looking at the salads Jethro had brought. “Oh, these look good.”
“I enjoy a good salad at lunchtime over a piece of fried pork for dinner,” he said. “I swear Ennis thinks everything has to be deep fried or simmered in pork fat to be tasty.”
“I kind of prefer duck fat personally,” she told him, opening the salad.
“A woman after my own heart,” he said, smiling at her. “Your picture didn’t do you justice. You are right pretty.”
“Second time I’ve heard that,” she replied, squinting her eyes at him.
“It’s true. Eat up, I have to get back to work, and we have a lot to cover between now and Monday,” he said. “You will get a part-time assistant, and she ain’t that bright, but a tad bit of help is better than none at all. I scheduled the kids by ages for shots starting on Tuesday. That way by the end of the week, the crying will be over and just bigger kids being surly.”
Khloe eyed the schedule and pushed it to the side, focusing instead on the company and Jethro’s offer of friendship. She dug deep into his relationship with Ennis, whom he spoke of frequently in his discourse, which Khloe appreciated in an effort to obtain an understanding of the man. The gratitude with his help was welcomed and needed.
“I look forward to repaying the favor,” she said.
“Anytime you are free to join me for lunch will be payment enough,” he said. “Just a bit of fresh conversation is like a Godsend to my ears.”
Jethro left a copy of the dense schedule but cautioned that it would change frequently between today and Monday and not to set her goals too high. The only real goal she tried to set was getting her items put away before her husband came home, which didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Especially after the departure of Jethro and the arrival of Katy Mae in a swimsuit with one jar of dark-colored moonshine that looked more like apple juice and one that was clear as water.
“Hey Girl, it’s hot tub and mountain margarita time,” Katy Mae shouted into the glass door.
“Mountain margaritas?”
“Hell yeah, margaritas made with moonshine versus tequila. This jar has been aged a week. The darker jar I’ve had since I was a kid. Two drops of this and you’ll come out the bathroom with your panties on sideways,” Katy May said, turning on the jets for the hot tub. “Come on, Sister Girl, join me.”
“Do I need to get the blender?”
“Frozen margaritas are for fancy bitches,” Katy Mae said turning on the hot tub jets. “I just need to burn off some brain cells before having to go back and deal with them damned kids.”
“Katy, you work in the school system?”
“Yeah, I teach 6th grade Social Studies,” she said. “And It’s Katherine Mae. Honey Montgomery gave her sons the same damned name and me two that is pronounced as one, that she conveniently condensed to Katy Mae. Go figure.”
Khloe watched her sister-in-law remove the oversized shirt and climb into the hot tub. She sighed like a lover had just touched her special place as she lowered her bottom into the water, the hefty boobs bobbing in the bubbles as she reached for the travel cooler, the moonshine, and a can of Squirt.
“Let me change into a suit and join you,” Khloe said, forgetting about the things she said she’d get done today.
“Great, I even brought a surprise,” Katy Mae said, holding up a small bag of quickly melting ice. “I scored us some ice cubes for our drinks. Bring back some glasses.”
“Katy Mae, I’m not a drinker,” she said. “But I will have one with you.”
“Me neither, but I can’t drink with just anybody. Most of these folks I’m either related to or teach their kids, so having a real friend that doesn’t have skin in the game is a life changer for me,” Katy Mae told her. “I hope we can be friends. I could sure use one.”
It began as two women in a hot tub having an afternoon drink. Beauregard returned home later that evening to find his wife laid out on the bed with both long chocolatey legs through one leg hole of her panties and his drunk sister, who evidently gave up trying to put hers on a
t all. Katy Mae’s panties lay in the floor, the crotch facing up and the two leg holes stretched open wide at her failed attempts to marry the holes to her feet. She lay on the bed like a toddler, her butt stuck up in the air as drool oozed from her open mouth onto his pillow. Growling, her threw a blanket over her girly parts and kicked the panties to the side near her shoes. He didn’t even want to know why they were off as he went looking for an additional light blanket to cover his wife.
“Glad they got along so well,” he said, going to the kitchen to start himself a bit of dinner. The good news was that the kitchen island was loaded with fresh-picked and washed fruit, which meant she actually got around to weeding the garden. The takeout trays of salad in the trash along with the Montgomery Communications phone box indicated Jethro had also been to the house. Looking deeper into the trash, he spotted the dirty rag with an old blood smudge. “Pap’s been here, too.”
He went back to the bedroom and threw the light coverlet on the other half of the Danger Sisters and sat down in front of his television with a sandwich, a semi-cool beer, and a huge grin on his face. His wife must have had a hell of a day, with visits from his Pa, Sis and Jethro. Beau’s concerns about his woman being lonely were abated.
Khloe was getting along just fine.
Chapter Ten – Bottoms Up.
Khloe woke up, groggy, completely inebriated, smelling sour and rolled over into a solid mass. Pushing at the unmovable mass, trying to force it out her way proved futile as her head swam and the words inside of her skull jumbled together. She tried sitting up but the sharp pains shooting across her forehead made her lie back down. It helped very little to have the bright rays of morning light shining on her face like a cop doing a late-night search in a back alley. She groaned loudly, letting out a large gust of moonshine fueled air which, if she had been near an open flame, would have ignited the whole house.
“I see you are awake,” a deep voice said.
Unfocused eyes tried to zoom in on the voice, but the blurry vision in her right eye prevented her from seeing anything clearly. Her hand reached out, patting, feeling its way toward the sound and came in contact with a hairy arm but she continued patting her way to the sound of the voice. Khloe jumped when her hand reached a wet hair-covered mouth. The throb in her head slowed her actions from getting away from the furry faced loud speaker.
“What are you doing in my couch bed?” she slurred.
“We are not on the couch, but in the bed,” the voice replied.
“Oh shit,” she said. “Did you try anything with me? My husband is going to be so mad if you did. He’s gone kick yo’ ass for touching me.”
The booming voice said, sounding slightly amused, “Really?”
“Yeah, he’s a big mufucka, too,” she said, gripping the covers. “I’ve been trying to sneak and feel him up and see if he has a big mufuckin’ pee-pee, but he keeps avoiding me. Saying he wants to wait for us to be friends, but I think he’s just scared.”
“Scared of what, might I ask,” Beau said to her.
“You know what they say, once you go Black...,” Khloe started to say but became distracted by the tangle of covers around her legs. It was all too much to process. The drumming of blood rushing to her ears, the loud voice talking to her, the big man in her bed, and the damned covers holding her hostage forced a low growl from her mouth in frustration.
Beau knew she was still drunk as was his sister who slept it off on the couch. That old bottle of moonshine she’d kept since she was 13 years old was a menace. His wife was the latest victim of the brown bottle of bothersome.
“Khloe, what do they say happens when you go Black,” he asked, turning to his side to face her.
“Your credit gets fucked up,” she said, giggling, her hands going to her face. “Oh shit, I’m laughing. I am actually smiling. Feel my face. It’s a smile.”
“A lovely smile it is,” he said with his hand coming up and caressing her cheek.
“Don’t get too familiar there, buddy! I’m a married woman and my husband is one big mufucka!”
“As you’ve mentioned,” he said, helping her with the covers she struggled to untangle from her legs. Finally, free she looked down at her body, cross-eyed style and gasped.
“Whus’ my panties?” she asked him. “Did you violate me? Oh shit, you’re in trouble now! My husband is going to kick your ass and he can, too, you know why?”
“Because he’s a big mufucka?”
“Yep,” she said, stretching her legs open, sticking her hands between her thighs. “It’s dry down there and not sore, so I guess you didn’t stick anything in Pooh’s honeypot!”
“Khloe, you are still drunk,” Beau told her, trying not to laugh.
“Why in the twitty tister would I be drunk? I don’t drink to get drunk, not even soberly,” she said. “My Mama was a drunk. Burned down my house and everything in it. That’s why I never take a drink to get drunk, me, my damned self, personally. Nasty habit. Not because I’m going to burn shit down, but because my Mama was a drunk. People act all crazy and shit when they drink. Tell all their damned business and yours, too!”
Beau lifted himself up on one elbow to look at his wife.
“Twisty twitty,” she said. “No that’s not right...twibby tisty.” Then burst out in uproarious laughter.
“Your mother burned down your house, Khloe?” he asked, touching a strand of the wayward curl sticking straight up on her head.
“My Mama was crazy,” she confessed. “Burned down my house and herself in it. She left me her house, though, and years of pissy, mildewed carpet. She also left me a brother who doesn’t talk to me much and we’re like strangers, but hey...hey...have you seen my panties?”
“They’re in the laundry hamper,” he said.
“Whoa, there’s a laundry hamper. Whassit hamping?” she said, laughing. “Hey! Hey! You need to get out of here. I have to go make my huzzzzband some dinner. If not, he’s gone come into this hexagon house and start yelling, ‘Where’s my food, woman!’ He likes to call me that. All Neanderthal and shit. Makes my nipples tingle.”
She began to giggle again, this time holding her nipples. Beau pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. He fully knew this was wholly unfair, but when life hands a man a lemon, might as well squeeze the hell out of them to get all the juice. This was juicy. His wife was actually open, not guarded like she usually was when they talked.
“I take it you like your husband?”
“Yeah, but he’s a big mufucka,” she said with her eyes wide, blinking as she tried to focus on his face. “I know I’m gonna have be on top when we finally get around to doing the loving. If I’m on the bottom, shiiiiit, you may find me in here still stuck to the mattress with my pelvis snapped in two. I’d die happy, too. I haven’t had a good fuck in so long, my shit gets wet every time it hears a buzzing sound. I had to take my phone off vibrate ‘cause my kitty thought it was date night errytime a bitch got a phone call.”
Beau started laughing.
“That shit ain’t funny. Men know women like sex too, but me, I’m gonna put it on that big mofucka so good, he’s gone buy me anything I ever wanted,” she said. “Hey guess, what? Maty Kae brought us a bag of ice, but she dropped it in the hot tub, then it was just a bag of cool water. I told her that my husband would buy me an ice truck if I asked him.”
His eyes got wide, “Is that what you need from your husband, Khloe? For him to buy you everything you ever wanted?”
“He can’t buy me a family who loves me,” she whispered. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“What about other things in life that you want?”
“Like what − some panties? I could sure use a pair of those instead of layin’ here with my honeypot all exposed. I’m telling you, if my husband comes in here and sees us like this, you are in trouble,” she said, touching his chest, her eyes trying to open wider. “Whoa, you’re a big mufucka, too.”
She looked like a chocolate angel baby doll, l
ying on the bed, all exposed and vulnerable. Insecurity made him ask the next two questions, but he needed to get a better understanding of why she was here. Why she agreed to be his wife. Beau also wanted a clear direction of her heartfelt desire in order to make her continue the laughter and her smile.
“Khloe, why did you marry him, if you don’t mind me asking?” Beau said.
“The same reason he married me,” she said, the need for sleep taking her over the ability to think clearly. “Nobody wants to really be alone in the world. At the end of the night, you want to come home to another person who thinks you’re cool as fuck and they are happy to see you. Nerd. Idiot. Drooling maggot, don’t matter none to the person in your house. There is a nerdy, drooling idiot maggot waiting at home when you get there.”
“All happy as fuck to see you,” he said.
“Exacta twitty tister,” she said, grinning. “I think you fixed my face. It can’t stop making that weird thing that happens when my lips pull back and expose my teeth... Hey! Have you seen my panties? I know I need to buy some more. Did I tell you my Mama burned down my house? She burned up my panties, too. Left a bitch with two pairs of drawers. I bought a pack but I had to travel light.”
“Khloe, I think you need some water,” he said, going to the bathroom to fill a glass. Returning with a glass in hand, reaching the side of the bed, helping her sit upright so she could drink. The bed gave under his weight as he took a seat next to her, raising her head to sip at the water. “Slowly. Slowly.”
“Thank you,” she told him. “I seem to be saying that a lot. There are really nice people here.”
Beau posed his final question, “If there was one thing you could ask your husband to give you, what would that be?”
“Fairness,” she mumbled. “Like now, it’s not fair that I laid down on this bed and when I woke up it was a whole ‘nother day. That shit just ain’t fair. I was ‘spose to make my man a nice meal, but instead, I’m in here with no drawers on talking to a dude who may be trying to violate me for all I know.”
The Tennessee Mountain Man Page 10