Chapter 5 - bourbon and verandas

All three of us stood on the hot blacktop of the nursing home parking lot. It was burning its way through my rubber flip flops.

"Okay, so Miss Gabby is going to give me a cooking lesson, and we would appreciate it if you would be our guest for dinner this evening", I said.

He burst out laughing. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away from that, this I gotta see. You cookin?"

"Oh shut up!"

"Don't you be rude, James Devereaux"", Gabby ordered, "Do you think I can't teach a cooking class?"

"Oh no , m'am, I know you can do anything", he answered.

She beamed, clearly receiving the answer she wanted. "That's better."

"And you!" she rounded on me, "Screamin 'shut up' in public like common trash, like you grew up over on the county road. Like you don't have a drop of Durand blood in you..." She proceeded to grumble about my many faults as she got in the car.

James and I met eyes and smiled. Why did I feel like Miss Gabby was convinced she was making a one-way trip?

Miss Gabby and I entered the kitchen as soon as we returned home with the groceries. And we hadn't left since.

Strictly speaking, she was cheating. She was teaching me an entire dinner.

I questioned how sanitary it was to put raw chicken in a grocery store paper bag with salt, pepper, and sweet paprika, and she laughed. I shook it as she snatched it away me. "He's already dead, child, you don't have to shake him that hard."

We made mashed potatoes and greens. I had been pleased to hear the word "green", thinking we were getting vegetables, until I saw her add half a pound of bacon fat to the pot.

"Even the vegetables make you gain weight around here", I grumbled.

"You have lots of land to walk around on...if you stayed!" she said. "And we ain't talkin about rabbit food like you eat in that town full of crazy people. There's a man in the house. And he's used to proper southern cooking. Ain't a salad gonna fill up that boy..."

Filling him up. I gasped as adrenaline rushed through me, and covered it with a cough. The master of the house. I tried to clear my mind, but I couldn't lose an image of him coming home to me, after a long, hard day. Needing to relax, ready kisses, sighs of contentment to be married at last, and to the girl he always wanted - I could sense that much. Menus carefully planned with him in mind, sitting back, stuffed after a big dinner, patting his growing belly, filled and fattened to capacity every night, as any hog or bull on the property, except the master of the house was all mine, to spoil and *** for hours. And as much he loved to tease me, his clear adoration was as warm as the sun.

"Did I say you could sit down?" The voice interrupted me.

"No, ma'am." I'd been sitting at the table, lost in dirty thoughts.

I popped back up.

Her brow was furrowed. "What was you thinkin about?"

"A lady shouldn't ask."

"Amen to that."

Piece by piece, we brought out dinner, and James patiently waited.

He took a big bite of chicken and smiled. "You made this?" he asked.

"With help." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Children! Well, my old bones are weary", Gabby said.

"I'm more than happy to take you back", James started, putting down his napkin.

"Don't you dare let this dinner go to waste! I know where my room is, I haven't been gone that long!"

We both watched her walk away.

"She thinks she's slick", I said.

"She's an old dear", he added.

"Yes, she is. So is it really edible?"

He took another bite. "It's delicious. Unlike that rabbit food, kale juice I'm sure you eat."

"Hey now. Just because I like a man with meat on his bones doesn't mean I want soooo much on mine." There. Let him chew on that for a minute.

"Uh huh, like Gold's gym muscles?" he asked, between bites.

"No, I mean like something to squeeze. I like a guy who likes to eat. If he gets a little red in the face about it, well that's good too..." I said, as he blushed.

"Well if a woman like that really existed, she'd be my dream come true", he said, eating without pause.

When he was finished, we had dessert and coffee, then I made a decision. I asked him to join me on the veranda, and I brought out two bourbons.

"I have to drive home", he objected, but took a sip.

I sat down on the porch swing, and he sat next to me. The old white painted wooden swing squeaked with every kick.

"So you really hate it here, huh?" he asked.

"It's growing on me."

"Like morning glories?" he asked.

"Like fungus", I answered, and he laughed.

"You're a hard nut to crack."

"You're not the first to say so, Mr. Devereaux."

I took another sip and moved half an inch closer. He did the same.

"So when does the movie star move on?" he asked.

"Movie star? I can't even sell a script", I said.

"You won. You know that. You're more beautiful than ever, you're smart, you live an exciting life in a place most of these folks will never even visit. You won", he said, taking another drink.

"I like to think so", I said.

"Damn, you have an ego, girl. I didn't hear a "thank you" in there", he protested.

"Why should I thank you for speaking the truth?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.

"Aghhhhhhh!" he yelled, making a motion like he'd like to strangle me.

I howled laughing. "Your drink's getting low", I said, refilling it.

"Miss Savannah, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were trying to seduce me."

I stuck my tongue out so I wouldn't have to say anything.

"This is how southern women seduce men", he said, feeling his drinks, "Food. You're finally doin somethin that makes sense to me, but I know you're not really doin it. You never made any sense to me...I just watched you, listened to you, and I wanted you so damn bad...I'm sorry, that was untoward.."

I put a finger against his lips. "Shhhh. I don't remember you as a kid, I really don't."

"Not surprised", he said.

"But I don't really care. I know you now." I put my hand on his.

Half drunk, he gulped in a breath. "I know I'm fat, Savannah. I'm a fat man. I accept it. I can't lose it, I don't want to do what I would have to do to lose it, it's too hard. And I'm done apologizing for it."

"You don't have to apologize", I said, and felt like my body was no longer under my control. I swung a leg around him until I was sitting on him, straddling him, facing him, and I took his face in mine and kissed his lips.

"I love your body", I said, "I like men who eat. If you put on a little more here..." I gently poked his tummy and he jumped, "Or here..." I squeezed a love handle, "I wouldn't complain."

"You're lyin."

"Look into my eyes, touch here...." I took his hand and put it between my legs. "That CAN'T lie. I'm soaked. And that wouldn't be the case if I wasn't attracted to you."

He stood up, with my legs wrapped around his waist. He put me down. "I'll be up in a minute", he said, draining his glass.

I ran upstairs and he poured two more glasses.

I was very unsure. It had been a while. How quick could I shave my legs? I laughed at myself. Digging through a drawer in my new bedroom, I pulled out a nightgown. It was a woman's, not mine, and it was old.

I pulled it over my head and it hit the floor. It had long sleeves, but I let the wide neck fall off one shoulder. Standing in front of a big oval cheval mirror, I looked myself over, and spritzed on some perfume.

A knock on the door made me jump. He walked in and put the drinks on the dresser.

He looked me over, head to toe. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen", he said, scooping me up and carrying me to the big, antique canopy bed with sheaves of rice engraved on the 4 posters.

We would have looked at home in any era since the house was built.

He put me down on the bed and lifted the nightgown up and over my head. "Don't you worry about a thing, you're my angel", he said, touching me with reverence. His fingers were whisper-light.

I was presently concerned with whether I could get my legs around him or not, but saying so would have shattered the romantic idle we were both caught up in. It was like living a historical romance novel on fast forward.

I didn't have to worry though, he had angled himself in such a way that he was already pushing slowly inside me. I gasped.

"Are you okay?", he asked, stopping completely.

"Wonderful", I urged him on.

I took his plump bottom in my hands and pushed him deeper, squeezing his thick thighs. I could feel his soft belly jiggling against me.

"My corn fed southern boy", I hissed in his ear. "So round and soft...."

"I...."

I screamed out to stop what he was going to say. I already knew he did.