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I run out of breath after all that word vomit, and I take a big, deep breath, raising my eyes to meet hers. She has her fork stopped halfway to her mouth, which is hanging open in shock, and I watch as her bite of coleslaw falls off her fork and onto her lap. For a good, long minute, no one says anything, and I take my first bite of lunch, feeling so much better now that it’s all out in the open. She’ll light into his crazy ass and force him to let me go, and then he won’t be in danger anymore.
But then I think, Oh man, this pulled pork is so good. Shame I won’t be here to learn how to make it.
“I see,” she finally says, the shock falling from her face and a grin taking its place. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. “When you know, you know.” She takes another scoop of coleslaw, this one making it to her mouth this time, and winks at Wyatt.
So that’s where he gets it from.
Wyatt is happily scarfing down his lunch, and it’s my turn again to drop my jaw. “Mrs. Roberts,” I sputter, but she stops me by putting her hand up.
“It’s ‘Mama’ now. If you two are going to get married and you’re going to have my grandbabies, then I want you to call me ‘Mama’.” Her grin grows, and now I know he gets his crazy from her too.
“Mama, this is not a ‘when you know, you know’ kind of situation. I don’t know anything except that this has all been bat—um, really crazy. I’m only eighteen, and like I said, we only met four days ago.”
Wyatt moves his right hand under the table where his mama can’t see and rubs it up and down my bare thigh under my dress. He leans over to whisper, “I told you she wouldn’t hate you. She sees what I see.”
“Well, now, it certainly does sound like a whirlwind romance if you ask me. Well, except for him calling you the ‘W’ word.” At this, she shoots Wyatt a glare, and he flushes bright red like he’s not too old or too big for a butt-whooping.
“I apologized to her, Mama, and told her I’d fix everything and take care of her. I promised her, and I’m promising you now, I’ll never say anything like that again.”
She nods as she accepts that, then turns back to me. “Wyatt’s daddy and I got married a month after we met, so I know a thing or two about whirlwind romances. Best decision I ever made was running off with him. You know what? If your son does something like that, too, then it’ll be a family tradition. Won’t that be nice?”
They’re insane, both of them.
“Now, y’all go on and finish eating before the pork gets too cold. And save some room for the key lime pie I made.” She smiles, and since I have nothing left to say, I happily dig into the most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten.
Wyatt
I’d say this is all going pretty dang well, and it’s clear the two women who mean the most in the world to me like each other, even if Dolly still looks at Mama like she’s lost her mind. Mama takes Dolly to show her all the photographs hanging in the hallway after lunch, and I hear them laughing at the embarrassing stories Mama is telling her.
Since Mama cooked, I’m cleaning up the kitchen when they come back in, grinning to myself as Dolly absentmindedly rubs her belly after eating two helpings of Mama’s homemade key lime pie. She slumps in her chair, and I know we have to get going soon, or she’s liable to fall asleep at the table.
Mama walks up to my side and taps me on my arm. “When you’re finished with the dishes, I’d like to have a talk with you in the other room.”
I nod, and five minutes later, I follow her into the den, leaving Dolly with her third slice of pie. We sit across from each other on the seventies-style couch with the hideous (I think) floral upholstery she refuses to update, and her mood seems to dampen from the fun we were having before.
“Now, tell me what’s really going on. I want to know why Dolly ran away and if I should be worried about it catching up to you.”
Sighing, I go over the more important details about her father being a cop who abuses his wife and daughter and how Dolly made her escape after he forgot to set the house alarm. I tell her about getting pulled over outside of town, and how one of the officers warned her that her father would have our information as soon as they let us go.
“You said, ‘When you know, you know’, and I do know she’s it for me. I promised to take care of her, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing for the rest of our lives. Right now, we need to find another apartment—the sooner, the better—in case her dad decides to come after her.”
“Alright, I can accept that. The age difference will take some time to get used to, but I trust you. She seems like a good girl, and I see the way she looks at you with hearts in her eyes, even when she’s thinking you’ve done lost your marbles.” She picks up a small notebook lying on the coffee table and flips through it. “Ah, here it is. Do you remember the Johnsons who lived about a mile or two up the road?” When I shake my head, she goes on. “Well, they retired and moved out of state to be closer to their daughter and grandchildren. They left the house to their son, Corey, and I know for a fact he’s been looking to rent it out for the past few months now. I’ve got his phone number here if you want to give him a call.”
She hands over Corey’s number, and I scoop her up for a big hug. “Thank you, Mama. For lunch, for accepting Dolly, and for this. I’ll step out and give him a call now.”
Corey answers right away, and we’re lucky enough that he’s available to show us the house now. Walking into the kitchen after hanging up with him, I find Dolly face down on her cheek, eyes closed, asleep at the kitchen table. I move behind her and shake her shoulders, whispering, “Hey, babygirl. It’s time to get going.”
Dolly mumbles out, “Can’t move. Need sleep. Too full.” Mama’s looking pretty pleased with herself, knowing Dolly stuffed herself with her good cooking.
“Alright, I got you.” I hook my arms around Dolly’s back and under her knees to lift her and carry her out to the truck. I’m just about to get her in her seat when her head pops up over my shoulder, and she sleepily waves at Mama, standing on the front porch.
“Bye, Mama. Thanks for lunch. And you know…stuff.”
Mama watches and waves us goodbye as we make our way down the gravel drive to the road, then turn toward the old Johnson house.
“This isn’t the way home. Where are we going?”
I love that she called our apartment home, though it won’t be for much longer. I pull her hand onto my lap after kissing it and rub my thumb back and forth along hers.
