Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) (6 page)

              “How did things get so out of hand, Daddy?” I questioned.

              “Ever since your Mama died, I’ve had such a hard time paying her medical bills and keeping us afloat. The insurance companies barely paid anything for her treatments, and the rest was left to us to foot the bill. I would say I’m mad, but those procedures kept your Mama around a lot longer than expected. I would have sold everything if that meant I could have one more day with her,” he said while the tears started to build up.

              Your mama and this family are the best things that have ever happened to me. I can’t help but smile every time I see your face, baby girl. You look so much like her. She would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”

              Daddy started crying, and I didn’t know what to do but hug him. This was the first time I had seen him break down since mama had died. It broke my heart to see the devastation across his face. Our family had made so many memories in this house. Just the thought of having it taken away was almost too much to bear.

              Trying to be the strong one, I said, “It’s ok, Daddy. We will figure something out.” The frustration and urgency were written all over my face.
How in the hell are we going to come up with that kind of money? Maybe I could sell my apartment in New York City? Maybe, I could apply for another loan?
There has got to be some information we are missing here. I can’t let those monsters take over our home.
Where the hell is the money he already invested?
“Don’t worry, Daddy. We’ll get everything ironed out. I won’t let them take away our home.”

●

              Even after all this time, getting in ole’ Bessie felt so good. I’m so glad Dad took care of her while I was gone. She was perfect; all the way down to her baby blue roof and cassette player. I’m pretty sure Tiffany was still in the tape deck. It wasn’t like you could get cassette tapes anymore. It may be your typical farm truck, but she was mine, and I paid for her. Paying for my truck was the first step in developing my independence. She was my baby. I cared about her just as much as I cared about Dad, Granny, and my besties.

              Getting back on the open country roads felt like bliss. With the windows rolled down, the morning sun kissed my face. The best part about country folk, they would do practically anything if you just lend a helping hand. Before our neighbor, Ole’ Man Johnson passed away, he started to liquidate his assets. He was getting so old he couldn’t drive his truck anymore. I traded him two hundred dollars and a summer of cutting grass to get Bessie. He would have given her to me for free, but I refused. I needed to do something for him since he had been so generous.

              There were times when I went over to his house just to sit on his porch drinking sweet tea talking about the “good ole’ days.” I know some people my age prefer not to talk to older people, but I love talking to them. They have the best stories. Stories that have nothing to do with iPads, cell phones, or what the hottest clothes on the market are. Their stories were real, authentic and full of emotion.

              Ole’ Man Johnson used to tell me how he missed his late wife, and how they used to dance in the kitchen on hot summer nights. They’d sit under the weathered metal fan at the kitchen table, and sway to the sounds of Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald. Their romance was something to admire - something to strive for. I hope one day I have that with someone I love.
Maybe that someone is Colton?

              Sometimes I think Ole’ Man Johnson just liked having the company, which was probably why he was willing to give me Bessie for practically no cost. Ole’ Man Johnson never had kids, but he and his wife always hoped they would someday. In a way, I liked to think I helped him cope with the loss of not only his wife, but also not having children. By coming around, I felt a piece of his heart lessened the cracks from the pain.

              Driving past his house, I looked over and saw the tire swing still hanging from a tree in the front yard. It breaks my heart that he never had any of his own children to push, but was pleased that I helped in any way I could.

●

              Pulling up to Harley’s house, I tucked away those memories of Ole’ Man Johnson and skidded to a halt in her gravel driveway. Harley came flying off the front porch as her mama, Sue Ellen, sat flicking ashes off the terrace.

              Trying to be courteous, “Hi, Ms. Bridges.”

              Not responding she grabbed her “orange juice”, and walked away.

             
Nice to see you, too.
Jesus, it’s not even nine a.m. and already she’s drinking. To say Harley’s family was dysfunctional would be an understatement.

              Turning out of the driveway, I managed to watch my speed since Mrs. Bridges was standing on the porch. She would tell my Granny or Daddy I had been reckless if I had peeled out the driveway the way Harley would have. Her mama was always looking to stir the pot in order to get a little attention here and there. This town is nothing, if not full of compulsive gossipers. You never know what could come flying out of someone’s mouth, and who's watching whom. To be perfectly honest, Sue Ellen was the last person who should be spreading gossip.

            Skye’s family dynamic, on the other hand, was completely opposite. Her parents were bona fide hippies. Her parents, Alistair, and Moon Beam, screamed “free love, make love, not war, man.” You could always find them sitting in their garden naked, smoking pot and listening to old Grateful Dead records. A lot of the boys in town believed Skye lived the same free spirited lifestyle. They would sneak around in her bushes trying to get a glimpse. Don’t get me wrong; Skye was an exhibitionist. However, it was never out in public.

Chapter 5

              Bouncing into the parking lot of ‘Hole in the Wall’, I couldn’t help but notice the breakfast traffic. This place was packed. Getting out the truck, I adjusted my jean shorts and cowboy boots. It may be ninety-five degrees in Avery, but I'd be damned if I didn’t wear my boots. Even now, after losing so much weight, I still felt a little awkward from time-to-time. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to my new body.

              “You look fine,” encouraged Skye.

              “I know, but I still get a little uncomfortable every once in a while.”

              “Don’t. You look smoking hot mama, and your legs go on for days,” Harley responded with a smack of her bubble gum.

              Harley, Skye and I entered the restaurant right at eight forty-five. As soon as we step over the threshold we were immediately met with the cold breeze of the A.C. unit pumped in our faces.
Ahhhh. Much better.
You could tell it was summer in Texas, when you could easily start sweating at eight am. It was going to be a hot one for sure. Settling into our booth across from the bar, and we ordered our food.

              “So what’s the deal with you and Chuck?” I asked Harley.

              “What do you mean?”

              “Well, you seem to like him. He’s into you; what are you waiting for?” I asked.

              “I’m undeniably sexually attracted to him, but you know me. Every time I get close to a guy, he always finds a way of fucking it up. I’m attracted to the douchebags of the world. It only fits that Chuck would be one of them as well. I figured why not save myself the trouble.”

              “Not all men are d-bags you know,” Skye added.

              “True, but I’d just assume he is until he proves himself otherwise.”

              “I just think you’re freaked out because you finally met your match.”

              “Shit. Chuck is no match for me. He has to work for this. It won’t come easy. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind a quick roll in the hay. If he really is like me, it could be one hell of a ride.”

              “HARLEY!” Skye preached.

            “Hey, a woman can only depend on her rabbit for so long.”

              “You’re trying to tell me you would be ok with a “fuck buddy” relationship with Chuck?” I asked.

              “I suppose if the topic was up for discussion, perhaps.”

              “But wouldn’t you get attached?” Skye looked appalled.

              “It would take a miracle for me to get attached to anyone these days.”

              “I’ve seen stranger things happen,” I added.

              “I think you should think about dating him and then bring up sex,” priss-pot Skye said.

              “But the alternative is so much better, Sister Skye. Are you sure you weren’t a nun in your past life?”

              “I just think if you gave it a try, you might like it,” Skye coaxed.

              “Look at this face,” Harley said pointing her finger at herself. “Does this face look like it wants a committed relationship right about now?”

              “And you wonder why you date so many dirt balls?” I added.

              “But what if he’s the one?” Skye added her two cents.

              “Yeah, you need to stop thinking too far into the future and live in the present girl,” I added.

              “Are you listening to yourselves?” Harley chimed.

              “What?” Skye and I said in unison.

              “Skye, you’ve been best friends with Wyatt for as long as I can remember, and I see you holding back your feelings every time you’re together. When are you going to wise up and finally tell him how you feel?”

              “I do
not
have romantic feelings for Wyatt,” she tried to convince us.

              “Yea and I'm Mother Fucking Teresa,” Harley added.

              “Wyatt and I are strictly friends. Always have been, always will be.”

              “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart. Maybe one day you’ll actually start to believe yourself. And you, what the hell are you smirking at?”

              “Why are you bringing me into this?” I quipped.

              “You are contradicting yourself and you don’t even realize you’re doing it.”

              “How so?”

              “Carr, I love you honey, but let’s get real. You are so terrified to let Colt in because you know you are leaving at the end of this trial. You’ve been lusting over this man for years, and now that you have your chance, you’re going to waste it away on the absurd notion he won’t like you back. How the hell will you know unless you let him in, and who gives a shit if you move back to New York? If he truly is interested, you’ll always find a way. You guys keep harping on my poor judgment in men, but you both have ideal situations at your fingertips, and you’re letting it slip away. At least I can admit my sexual craving for Chuck.

              “I really hate when you’re right.”

              “Damn right! I know what I’m talking about!” she said throwing her fist onto the table.

              “That doesn’t mean it’s not going to be festering in my mind until the day I leave,” I added.

              Just as I was laying my fork down, I heard the click clack noise of heels on the hardwood floor.

              “Muffin Top, is that you?”
Fuuuckkkk.
I would know that voice anywhere.

              “Hi, Paisley.” My day was going so good too. Why do I feel it’s about to take a landslide down to shitsville?

              “Oh. My. God. I almost didn’t recognize you; you’ve lost so much weight,” said Reva, who was evidently still stuck on Paisley’s hip. Just like high school, Reva always seemed to be up Paisley’s ass, and bowed to her every command.

              Paisley was the same ole’ Paisley. She still had the same sky-high hairdo with her matching frosted, pink lipstick. How or why she thought that was cute is beyond me.

              “I heard you were back in town, but I didn’t think you would be here stuffing your face. Be careful. We may need to reinstate that nickname permanently,” smirked Paisley

              “The only thing you’ll be doing permanently, is feeling my boot up your ass if you don’t get the hell out of here, Paisley,” Harley shot back.

              “It’s ok,” I said placing my hand on Harley’s arm.

              “Paisley, it was so sweet of you to stop by, but if you don’t mind, my girls and I were enjoying a nice quiet breakfast. So if you’ll excuse us we’d like to continue doing just that,” I said with enough sugar to give her a cavity.

              “You know, it doesn’t matter how much weight you lose, Carrington. You’ll always be “Muffin Top Mason” in the eyes of everyone in this town including Colton Wilson.”

              “Well, bless your heart. Frankly, I was wondering if you knew my real name. Now, if you’ll excuse us, you’re free to leave now,” I said in my deepest southern accent while flicking my wrist in her direction. Paisley stomped away leaving a trail of fire and brimstone.
Don’t let that one near water. Sheesh!

●

              Climbing into the truck, I felt a sense of pride. I hadn’t gone off on Paisley like I’d always wanted, but it was still gratifying to put her in her place. Her words did sting a bit, but not half as bad as they used to. Maybe she’s right though; Colton will never like me. He will always see me as, “Muffin Top Mason.

              “I can’t believe how reserved you were with Paisley,” said Skye.

              “No, shit! I would’ve knocked that bitch flat on her boney ass.”

              “No you wouldn’t, Harley.”

              “Yeah, you’re probably right, but it feels good to know that Paisley thinks I would,” she said with a smile.

            “She doesn’t seem like she’s changed at all from high school.” I asked.

            “Oh, honey. She is the same ole’ bitch she was in high school. The only difference between high school and now she’s down a wing girl,” Skye added.

            “You mean the mean girl posse isn’t a trifecta anymore?”

            “Hell no. Sadie jumped ship some time ago. I think she was sick and tired of listening to Paisley’s bullshit. To be honest, everyone was.”

            “Good for her. She was always sweet to me no matter what Paisley did or said.”

            “Coming back home, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanna hear something funny?”

            “What’s that,” Skye asked.

            “I was convinced Colt and Paisley would have gotten married.”

            “Oh, their parents tried, trust me. They went as far as setting them up on a date. Can you believe that shit?” Harley said with a look of disgust on her face.

            “Yep. Rumor has it; Paisley made a complete ass out of herself when she tried to kiss him at Valencia’s. He didn’t want anything to do with her. To be honest, aside from Paisley and a few others, I’ve never seen him on a date.”

            “Maybe he’s gay,” I joked.

            “Oh honey, he is definitely not gay,” Harley added. “At least that’s what Bethany Campbell told me. She went on a date with him about a year after you left, and she said he was hung like a horse. I swear Scout’s honor,” she said holding up her fingers like a Boy Scout.

            “At least we know he’s not a virgin,” I said cringing at the thought of when I lost my virginity. If I could take it all back, I never would have let Tad Berkley walk me home from that fraternity party. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, I guess.

              It was no secret; all through high school and college I was committed to studying and getting into Columbia. I had always been the bookworm who never allowed herself the freedom to indulge. Aside from the very few times in high school, I mostly kept to myself when I wasn’t hanging out with Harley and Skye. In college, I ran into the same issues. I couldn’t afford to pay additional years of tuition, so the first go round was my one shot. On move in day I was utterly alone, and left to tour the campus by myself until some of the girls on my hallway empathetically asked me to join them at a fraternity party. Without Harley and Skye as my crutch, this was utterly horrific.

              Making up my mind to take advantage of my new school, a new state and no Paisley Parker I decided to submerge myself into the college life. Not having a lot of experience mingling or flirting, I decided I needed a little liquid courage. Great idea, Carr, consider yourself a walking tabloid that screams, “I’m a freshman.” Half in the bag, I walked onto the fraternity dance floor. Getting caught up in the music, I let it take me away. It was the best feeling not having to worry about a damn thing. I could have looked like cookie monster on roller skates for all I knew, but I didn’t care. Swaying to the music, I felt hands on my hips. What the…Ok, I’ll bite. Twisting my head, I noticed it was, actually, a really attractive guy. I remember hearing his name, Tad Berkley, and it immediately made me think of a country club brat, but at the time, I didn’t care.

              Tad rocked me back and forth to the music as he rubbed my back and shoulders. This kid was awfully touchy-feely, but who cares. I’ve never had a man even remotely come close to touching me like this. Hot and sweaty, Tad asked if we could go outside to get some air. Willingly, I agreed. We walked over to the sidewalk and sat down. We talked about our hometowns, what we were majoring in, everything and anything, really. I was starting to like this Tad kid. Tad is going to be the guy that gets Colton out of my head, forever. I hope. Maybe if I moved on, it wouldn’t hurt as much knowing he was in Texas, and I was in New York.