Southern Fried (10 page)

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Authors: Rob Rosen

Tags: #MLR Press LLC; Print format ISBN# 978-1-60820-435-9; ebook format ISBN#978-1-60820-436-6, #Gay, #General, #Romance, #Erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: Southern Fried
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almost felt sorry for him.

I turned to Pearl. “Your turn,” I whispered.

“My turn,” she whispered back, eyes wide, hand squeezing

mine.

“To Pearl Loomis,” Claude read, “I leave the contents of the

banking account I’ve left in her name. Provided she watches over

the Jackson mansion until the time of her death, looking out for

its new inhabitants, whoever they might be.”

“Whoever
they
might be?” I blurted out, a sizzling sensation

burning down the length of my back as a lone bead of sweat

trickled down my face. “What the hell does that mean?”

“What bank account?” Pearl asked, completely ignoring my

outburst.

Claude again opened his briefcase, removing an envelope, the

bank’s emblem stretched across the top left corner. He walked

56 Rob Rosen

around the desk and handed it to her, a sudden smile appearing

on his face. “She had me open this up many years ago, Miss

Loomis. Far as I know, she’s been adding to it ever since.”

“How many years?” Pearl asked, gingerly taking the envelope

between her thick fingers, which were now uncharacteristically

trembling.

“The day Trip was born,” he replied, moving back to his seat.

“I surmise she knew even then that you’d be earning whatever is

in that envelope.”

Pearl elbowed me in the ribs. “And then some.” She tore open

the envelope and removed the lone slip of paper, her lips silently

moving as she read the amount. Then she sucked in her breath

and began to fan her face with the paper. “Lord have mercy,” she

croaked out.

“How much, Pearl?” I asked, also fanning her with my hands

as her face broke out into a cold sweat, her cheeks and forehead

suddenly drenched.

She tried to speak, but her voice was now lodged in her throat.

She handed me the slip of paper instead. Twenty-plus years of

interest alone on whatever was deposited had to be a mouthful.

Only, this was more than a mouthful; this was all the mouths in

South Carolina. With enough left over for all of Georgia to bloat

themselves on. “Just under four million,” I coughed out.

“Four million,” Pearl echoed.

“Four million?” shouted Jeeves. “Are you fucking kidding me?

Thirty years and all I get is a bunch of old cars, and she, she gets

four million dollars?” he stared at the ceiling and shook his fists.

“Fuck you, Mary Jackson! Fuck you very much!”

Bitter party, table for one.
“Calm down, Jeeves,” I tried.

Unsuccessfully, I might add.

He jumped from where he’d been sitting and, in the blink

of an eye, was standing before me, finger wagging in my face.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, you, you sick perverted bastard.

You haven’t a clue as to what she had me do all those years while

you were gallivanting about up North. All the secrets, all the lies.

southeRn FRied
57

All the countless errands and ridiculous chores. And for what?”

He was shouting now, poking me in the chest as we all sat there

staring at him, eyes wide. “For what? For some cars? While this

woman gets four million for cooking and cleaning? Are you

fucking kidding me?”

Again he stared at the ceiling, his face a blistering red,

veins bulging down the length of his neck. “You always were

a thankless, old cow, Mary Jackson!” he spat. “I hope you’re

roasting in hell right now!”

I gaped up at him, anger spewing from all my vents. “Uh,

I think you’re shouting in the wrong direction then, Jeeves.”

Well, even in anger it was still fun to rib him. I’m nothing if not

consistent.

He looked back down and grimaced, sweat pouring off of

him. And then, with a final growl, he turned and stormed out of

the room, slamming the door behind him.

The rest of us exhaled as if on cue. “Well,” Pearl said, breaking

the silence. “Guess it’s a good thing I neglected to tell him that I

scratched one of the cars last week when I was puttin’ away the

groceries.”

“Hope you scratched it good,” I told her.

“Oh, I did, child. I surely did.” She laughed, as did the rest

of us. “And I ain’t about to pay him for the damage neither, four

million dollars or no four million dollars.” She froze and stared at

me. “Four million dollars, Trip. It can’t be real.”

It was then that Claude chimed in. “Oh, I can assure you,

ma’am, it’s real all right. And not even a part of the estate. That

account was yours and yours alone, to do with as you please.”

Pearl blinked, eyes still on mine. “Meanin’, Trip, the rest of it

is coming to you.”

I squeezed her hand and smiled. “Looks that way.” Then I

turned and looked at Claude. “Is that right, sir?”

He coughed and found the spot he’d left off at. “Let’s find

out,” he said, clearing his throat one final time. “As for the

58 Rob Rosen

remainder of my estate, the house, my bank account, all other

assets not mentioned above, I leave it all to my surviving closest

kin, my two grandsons.”

I chuckled. “One, sir. One surviving grandson.”

He shook his head and continued. “My two grandsons, Trip

Jackson and Beau Pellingham. They can split the estate however

they see fit, provided the house and the grounds not be sold

during their lifetimes. Beyond that, I hope they have the good

sense to ensure that the estate remains in the hands of their

surviving relatives when the time comes for them to meet their

maker.” Claude forced back a grin before finishing. “Because,

trust me, the good Lord might be the one weighing their souls

come judgment day, but it’s me they’ll have to reckon with when

the time comes.” And with that, he folded the paper and removed

his reading glasses.

I released my hand from Pearl’s. “One grandson,” I squeaked

out. “One.”

“No, son,” said Claude. “Two. Two, unless Ms. Jackson was

mistaken. And, until you can prove otherwise, the estate must be

split evenly.”

But it wasn’t the splitting that shook me to the core. I already

had a life. I had my own money. I had a place to call home. If

the estate was coming to me, then fine, I’d deal with it. But no, it

was the second grandson thing. If it was true, I had a brother out

there. A brother I’d never heard of before then. Which confused

the hell out of me. I mean, how could such a thing have been

possible? And why didn’t Granny tell me about it? Or any of

them, Pearl or even Jeeves, for that matter? Surely they knew.

If my parents had had another son, Pearl and Jeeves had been

around long enough to know about him. I mean, they’d both

been with Granny since before I was born. It just didn’t make

sense. Not even a little.

I stood up on wobbly knees. “I have a brother,” I whispered,

the room suddenly spinning, blackness zooming in from all sides.

And, just before everything went completely dark, I added, “I’m

not alone.”

ChAPteR 4
Fried Green Tomatoes (No, not the movie)

I awoke in my bed. The room was hot, my face sticky with

sweat. I had a feeling I wasn’t alone and so I popped open my

eyes. Sure enough, Pearl and Zeb were off to one side, Betty

and Stella to the other side. I blinked, yawned, and shot them a

crooked smile. “Man,” I said. “I had the strangest dream. And

you were there, and you were there, and you were there, and you

were there.” With each
and you were there
I pointed to the person

I was referring to. “In fact, everyone was there, even Jeeves.

Granny died and left him all her cars.” I smiled, despite the bile

pushing its way up from my gurgling belly.

Pearl reached down and stroked my hair. “Wasn’t no dream,

sugar. Your granny died and left us all those things. Now you’re

like that comic book character you used to read about when

you was just a little thing. What was his name?” She paused and

scratched her head.

I frowned. It sure seemed like a dream. “Richie Rich. Poor,

little rich boy. Kid was a flamer for sure. Sounds like me all over.”

I yawned again. “But how did I get here?”

She grinned. “You passed out, Trip. We carried you up here.”

“Mostly Stella,” piped in Zeb.

I looked over at Stella and nodded. “Thanks.”

She nodded back. “Luckily, you don’t weigh all that much.”

My smile shot up. “Finally, some good news.” Then the grin

exploded into a million pieces of debris. I remembered how the

will had ended. I turned again to Pearl. “You knew?”

She shook her head from side to side. “No, sugar. Not a clue.

Like I done told you, I’d seen that Beau feller around, but all

your granny ever said was that he worked for her from time to

60 Rob Rosen

time. Wasn’t my place to ask her anything beyond that. If ’n your

granny wanted to tell me, she would have.”

I looked to the others. They all shrugged. “Did any of you

ever talk to him? Find out what he did for Granny? Where he

lived?”

Betty spoke up next. “Lots of people worked for your granny,

Trip. This is a big estate, as you well know. Plus, Ms. Jackson

had her charity work. If there was something needed to be done

and one of us couldn’t make time for it, or wasn’t qualified to

help, she’d just hire someone else. Sometimes she’d hire them

for several different projects, so it wasn’t that unusual to see

someone coming and going, maybe over a few months, maybe

over a few years. You’d smile and nod to them, say good morning,

but that was it. Because there was no one in the mansion that

didn’t belong in the mansion.” She smiled at me, nodding all the

while. “That Beau person, he was one of those types of people.

Sometimes you’d see him, sometimes you wouldn’t. Like I said,

not that unusual.”

Again I turned to Pearl. “Did Mister Newman, her lawyer,

say how he was related to Granny? Is he my full brother or a

half brother or a cousin? Did Granny have other children I

didn’t know about? Did my parents?” My mind was suddenly

swimming with all the possibilities. How exactly was he Granny’s

other grandson? And then, lastly, “Where is he? Beau, I mean? Is

he still in jail?”

Pearl sighed as her hand went from my head to my cheek.

“Mister Newman is checking on that now, sugar. He needs to

find him, too. Tell him about his inheritance. Seems like that will

of your granny’s was just as big a surprise to him as it was to us.

Ms. Jackson drew it up herself and had it sealed away. He knew

about it, but wasn’t allowed to read it until after she passed.”

I shook my head. “Isn’t that strange, though? Why would she

do such a thing? Keep Beau a secret from us, from her lawyer?”

Pearl’s smile returned. “Now, Trip, you know as well as I do

that your granny was a strange one. But I’m sure she had her

reasons, even though I can’t begin to imagine what they might

southeRn FRied
61

have been. Guess we’ll just have to wait and ask Beau himself.

Maybe he can shed some light on all this. I mean, based on his

antics at her funeral, he must’ve known something that we don’t.”

Which did in fact make sense. Maybe he knew he was family,

knew she was his grandmother. But why the animosity toward

me then, his brother or his cousin? “You’re right, Pearl. We’ll just

have to wait and see.” I smiled again. “Meanwhile, any plans for

all that money?”

She shrugged. “Give most of it to my kids and grandkids, I

suppose. A large chunk to the church. Take me a trip someplace

warm, but with none of this god-awful humidity or pollen. Plus,

that will of hers says that I need to stay at the mansion; doesn’t

mention if I can hire me some help. With four million, looks like

I can hire me a whole mess of it.” She smiled, her face lighting

up. “But what about you, boy? You gonna stay on here?”

I pushed myself up on my elbows, that bile in my belly suddenly

on fire, like molten hot lava. “I wish I knew, Pearl. Guess me and

this Beau person will have to come to some sort of arrangement.

After all, this place isn’t all mine, as we all thought it would be.”

Her hand found mine, the flame doused, if only for a second.

“You always did want a brother, boy.”

Truth be told, I always wanted a sister, someone to play dress

up with, to talk about boys with. Still, even a brother would be

nice. It meant I wasn’t alone in the world any longer; I had family,

however small it might have been. “He looked a little older than

me, don’t you think?” I asked. “It would be nice to have a big

brother.”

It was then that we heard the front door chiming: “I Wish I

Was in Dixie”
.
Seemed more like Oz right about then, except in

this case it was a mansion landing smack-dab on top of yours

truly. “Guess we’re about to find out,” Pearl said, already turning

to go answer it.

The rest of them stood there staring at her as she left, the

door ajar, her footsteps disappearing down the staircase. I gulped

and stared as well, a million thoughts buzzing around my addled

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