She’s owned this store for as long as I can remember. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was passed down to her from her mama.
“Hello to you, Mrs. Wilson,” I say with a smile.
The woman has a full head of white hair that she braided and that hangs over her shoulder. She’s a slim lady with friendly green eyes. At seventy, she’s still a lovely vision, and full of sass.
“So, what brings you in? Need help finding something?”
I think she’s being nosy, and she likely is. But I do need help.
“Do you carry stuff for a picnic?” I ask, unsure of myself for the first time.
“A picnic… I sure do. Follow me,” she replies, waving me over.
The shop is actually deceptively large. We navigate a few aisles, and I find myself in front a few different baskets, blankets, and serving stuff that fits in the picnic basket.
“I came in here for two things!” I mutter in feigned irritation.
“Honey, are we trying to get laid or are you laying the groundwork for more?” Mrs. Wilson asks, deadpan.
I would have spat out my drink had I been drinking anything. I have never heard her speak this way, at least not to me.
“I have eyes and ears. You think I don’t know about you, Caine Montgomery? I’d have to live under a rock to not be aware of your nighttime proclivities.” How does she say that sounding all prim and proper?
I’m in shock. I mean, her words are pretty insane, but what she’s saying… I’m no man-whore!
I place my hand on my chest and ask, “My nighttime proclivities?”
“You heard me; don’t make me say it twice. Now, are you just looking for sex, ‘cause this is a lot of effort from you for sex. Now, unless the rumors are false, you don’t need to go through all this effort,” she says, crossing her arms over her slender frame.
“I’m not having this conversation,” I murmur under my breath.
I shake my head and frown. This can’t be happening.
Lance gets laid more than I do! What level of hell have I walked into.
“I want to do something nice for my girlfriend,” I explain simply.
“Franklin Caine Montgomery? You have a girlfriend?” I hear from a few aisles over.
I shut my eyes at the sound of her voice. When I open them, she’s standing right beside Mrs. Wilson.
“Mornin’ Mama,” I say, walking over to my mother and giving her a hug.
“Do you have a girlfriend? How… why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, hurt written all over her face.
My mother’s brows are drawn, and her usual smiling face is down-turned, a frown marring her lovely visage.
“It’s very new,” I say, hoping to curb her hurt.
“Hmm, must be since… what… three days ago you were moping…” she says skeptically, one brow raised as she regards me skeptically.
“Mama, are you gonna give me grief or are you gonna help me convince this girl I’m worth her heart?” I ask my mother.
I wish I could say I’m trying to make her feel better, but the fact of the matter is, I need her help.
A big smile comes over my mother’s face, her white, straight teeth making an appearance.
“Well, I think that’s just the best thing I’ve heard in years,” she says, beaming with happiness, her eyes crinkling at the ends. “A picnic…” she muses as she begins grabbing items off the shelves.
