The Governor's Sons (9 page)

A short while later a pretty waitress welcomed him with a large glass of water, a big smile and a voluptuous set of huge bobbing breasts.
 
Ash guessed her to be around seventeen.

The waitress, a peroxide blond, batted her large blue eyes.
 
“You need a little more time to look at the menu, shug?”

“No.” Ash smiled. “I know just what I want.”

“Alright, shug, what can I getcha?”

“I’ll take two hamburgers, an order of French fries, and an extra thick chocolate milkshake.”

She winked.
 
“I’ll have it for you in jiff, shug.” Ash enjoyed the view as the girl walked away.
 
But then he thought about Kitty—again.

What had he done to her?
 
Nothing!
 
She was the one who’d rubbed Russell in his face yesterday.
 
She’d driven him to the edge, and when he’d kissed her this morning, his feelings displayed that.
 
Although he never would have hurt her, she threatened him like he was a rapist!

In a few minutes, Ash’s waitress returned with his order.
 
As she set down the milkshake, she smiled and said, “It’s extra thick, just like you wanted.
 
I made it myself.”

Ash thanked her, then appraised the food.
 
The burgers were big and fat with blood laced juice seeping from them, and the fries were coated with grease and laden with salt.
 
Ash smothered everything with ketchup, then ravenously dove in.
 
The shake was so stiff he had to eat it with a spoon.

He hadn’t eaten a meal like this in nearly five years, but today he didn’t care.
 
Ash devoured every ounce of food, then licked his fingers in like fashion as all the white trash customers around him did.
 
When he’d almost finished the shake, it was runny enough to drink.
 
He removed the spoon, then turned up the glass and drained it to then last drop.

His attentive waitress immediately returned to clear away his dishes.
 
“Anything else I can get for you, shug?”

“No thanks.” Ash smiled politely, as he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a large burp.

“You sure, shug?”
 
She raised one eyebrow and smiled slyly.
 
“My break’s in ten minutes.”

“If you don’t mind,” Ash smiled, “I’ll just take my check.”

Ash left a large tip, then paid for his meal.
 
Walking to his car, he felt so full of fat, starch and gas, he could barely move.
 
Once behind the wheel, he mulled over what to do next.
 
He started the engine and turned the car around to head back to Joy Hope.

The only reason Kitty had lacerated him with her tongue, Ash assumed, was because of Thomas and Russell.
 
They’d probably said he was white man, only after one thing and no better than a dog.
 
Then Ash wondered if Kitty had told them about what he’d said to her Friday night?
 
Did she laugh about him as she’d explained it?
 
And after that, did Russell and Thomas make fun of him, too?

The whole situation was about to drive him crazy!
 
He loved Kitty, but right now he wanted to strangle her.
 
Ash pushed hard on the accelerator, leaving a trail of dust behind on the unpaved dirt road.
 
With the top down to his red Ford convertible, the cool air cut sharply through his hair.
 
 

Ash imagined making love to Kitty, but then became angry again.
 
All the way home, he thought how strongly he felt for her, and how much she’d wounded him.

When Ash entered Joy Hope, something else crossed his mind.
 
Yesterday Miss Joan had mentioned that Lillian Ann’s mother, Miss Trina, was sick.
 
Tomorrow, Miss Trina had planned to go with her daughter to a poetry reading by Bennett Stuart.

Stuart, known for his distinctive Southern style, was a nationally acclaimed poet and a friend of Mother’s.
 
He’d promised to do a reading at her arts center as he passed through town on his way to New York to promote his latest collection,
Magnificent Love
.
 
With Miss Trina sick, Lillian Ann would either be attending alone, or with some girlfriends.
 
Miss Joan, however, had suggested that Ash escort her.
 
But Ash hadn’t been the least bit interested, and he’d forgotten all about it--until now.

****

Ash rang the bell and waited.
 
Moments later, Alfie, the Thompson’s maid, greeted him.
 
 
She barely reached Ash’s shoulder, but probably tipped the scales at double his weight.
 
“Why, Mr. Ash!” Alfie said in a sugary sweet voice.
 
“You come right on in!” She opened the door to Lillian Ann’s red brick colonial mansion. The Thompsons lived at the end of Ash’s street.
 
“You here to call on Miss Lillian Ann?” Alfie clasped her hands and smiled broadly.

“Yes ma’am,” Ash replied.

“Well, Miss Lillian Ann’s gonna be pleased to see you!
 
She’s been wonderin’ where you been keepin’ yo’self hid since the summer started.”
 
She giggled as she led Ash into the living room.

Alfie’s skin was light brown and long lashes framed her large dark eyes.
 
Ash guessed her to be about 50.
 
Despite her girth, she was rather attractive and extraordinarily graceful.
 
As he watched her walk ahead of him, he couldn’t shake from his mind the image of an elephant in a tutu.

“You just sit yo’self down and make yo’self comfortable.”

“Thank you, Alfie.
 
How’s Miss Trina?”

“She’s still feelin’ a might sick.
 
The doctor tol’ her just stay in bed and rest.” Alfie smiled.

“You be sure to tell her I hope she feels better,” Ash said.

“I sure will.
 
She’ll appreciate you askin’ ‘bout her.
 
Now,” her eyes twinkled, “I’ll go fetch Miss Lillian Ann.”

After a few moments, Ash shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
  
He felt like his last meal was about to rupture his insides.
 
He looked at his watch hoping Lillian Ann wouldn’t take too long.
 
He didn’t really want to be here in the first place, and physically, he knew he couldn’t hold out for long.
 

“Mr. Ash,” Alfie said, as she walked lightly back into the living room, “Miss Lillian Ann’s on her way.
 
Would you like some iced tea while you’re waiting?”

“No thank you, Alfie.
 
I’ll just take a glass of water.”

“I’ll bring it right to you, sir.”

Alfie returned shortly with a tall glass of ice water.
 
Ash thanked her, but still saw no sign of Lillian Ann.
 
He rubbed his stomach and grimaced slightly.

“You feelin’ alright, Mr. Ash?”

“I’m okay, Alfie.”
 
But not for long, he thought.
 
He took a sip of water, then placed the glass on a coaster atop a mahogany end table.
 
“You know what?” Ash started to stand. “Maybe I’ll come back—”

Suddenly, with the strength of an elephant, Alfie pushed him back down.
 
“Oh no, Mr. Ash!
 
Miss Lillian Ann’s a comin’!
 
You just stay put!” She commanded, then added sweetly, “Sir.”
 
Alfie was silent for a moment as she listened, then her eyes widened.
 
“Well,” she smiled, “I hear her right now.”

Ash heard Lillian Ann’s footsteps as she ran down the stairs, and then the quick clickety clack of her heels on the tile as she passed through the entrance foyer.
 
When she swept into the living room, he stood to greet her.

“Why, Ash!” Lillian Ann was slightly out of breath.
 
“What a surprise.” She smiled.
 
Her long lavender dress was short sleeved with a slightly ruffled hemline.
 
A dark purple sash was tied around her waist.
 
Ash could see a slight smattering of freckles beneath her face powder.

“Good afternoon, Lillian Ann,” Ash said, as they sat down.
 
“I just wanted to—”

“I hope you can stay a while.”
 
She looked toward Alfie co-conspiratorially.
 
“Alfie, why don’t you--peel us some grapes?”

“Why, yes ma’am.” Alfie beamed as she turned to leave the room.

“I can’t--” Ash began.

“Have you had lunch?” Lillian Ann asked.

“Yeah.”
 
At the mere mention of lunch, his stomach gurgled.
 
He squeezed his buttocks firmly to keep from breaking wind.
 
“But—”

“Would you care for dessert?”

“No, thank you.
 
I—”

“Well, grapes are a nice refreshment any time, aren’t they?
 
Not filling, and thirst quenching, too.”

“I suppose so, but—”

“Have you ever had them without the skin?”
 
With a half smile, Lillian Ann raised one eyebrow.

“No.”
 
And that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.
 
He wasn’t gonna sit there for an hour while Alfie tried to peel a dozen grapes.
 
Besides, who ate grapes without the skin?
 
“As a matter of fact,” he said, gearing up for a lecture, “the skin of any fruit is the most nutritious part. It has all—”

“Oh, Ash, you and your health consciousness.”
 
Lillian Ann laughed.

“Look, Lillian Ann,” he said quickly.
 
“I can’t stay.
 
I’ll have to miss out on those—skinless grapes—but Mother told me Miss Trina’s sick.
 
So I’d like to invite you to go with me to the Bennett Stuart reading tomorrow.”

“Oh, Ash!
 
Why, I’d love to!”
 
She smiled giddily and sat up tall.

“I’ll pick you up at 11:30.”
 
He stood to leave.
 
“We’ll have lunch at my house, then go to the program.”

“Oh, Ash!” She clasped her hands.
 
“I can hardly wait!
 
Why, you sly devil, you.
 
Just where have you been all summer?
 
I thought we--”

“Lillian Ann, I really have to go.”

“Oh.”
 
She slouched and pouted.

“But,” Ash said, as he started for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Ash sighed quietly.
 
Lillian Ann was about to drive him crazy as she rambled on and on, and she’d also made him lose his appetite.
 
He sat directly across from her in his family’s dining room, while his mother was seated at the foot of the table.

“Miss Joan,” Lillian Ann trilled, gazing toward her, “I just don’t know why Ash has been so hard to find all summer.
 
Once he’s off to law school in the fall,” she smiled at Ash, “I’ll hardly see him.”

“Well,” Joan said, “you’ll have to ask him.”

Ash glanced down at his plate.
 
Creamy chicken salad and fresh tomatoes lay comfortably on a lacy bed of bib lettuce.
 
He poked a large chunk of chicken with his fork.
 
The thick white dressing around it turned pink as it mingled with the juice of the tomatoes.

“I’ve just been busy,” Ash said, as Kitty walked in the room carrying a pitcher of iced tea.
 
She served the ladies first, then Ash.
 
“Thanks, Kitty,” he said softly, as their eyes met, but she didn’t respond.

“You can only imagine my surprise yesterday when he showed up on my doorstep to invite me to the reading today.”
 
Lillian Ann took a sip of tea.
 
“Oh, Catherine, or should I say
Kitty
?
 
That’s what I just heard
Ash
call you,
isn’t
it?” She asked snidely.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kitty said flatly.

Lillian Ann crinkled her nose.
 
“Well, I think
I’ll
call you that, too.
 
It’s such a
cute
name,” she said, with a nasty smile. “So,
Kitty,
would you please bring me a few fresh lemon slices for my tea?”

“Yes, Miss Lillian Ann.”

Once Kitty returned with the lemon slices, Lillian Ann had another request.
 
“Kitty, some of my lettuce is brown.
 
Would you please take it away and bring me another serving?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty reached for the offending plate.
 
However, Ash hadn’t seen any brown lettuce on it.

“Well, Ash,” Lillian Ann said, “I’m glad you finally thought about me.
 
Did thinking about
love
poetry bring me to your mind?”