That we want her living with us for forever, and that we wanted her in a good car that would last.”
“See? You’re brilliant. Absolutely marvelous. Couldn’t have done a better job myself.”
“Would have been easier with you here to wrangle her. You’ve got a special touch with her. You know I’m no good at that kind of stuff.”
“Lover, you have the same sweet touch with her as you do me. I’ve got to go, I’m speaking in a few. Give her a hug and kiss for me, I’ll talk to you later.”
Thomas ended the call and watched her as she drove ahead of him. She reached up to her face a lot, probably wiping tears. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to get her out of her shell, for her to enjoy being treated like a princess. The sooner she did, the easier it would be to show her how perfect she was for them.
* * * *
At the house, Nevvie parked behind Tyler’s Lexus and realized she had a text message from him on her new BlackBerry.
How does it drive?
She smiled and figured out how to reply.
Wonderful. I’m spoiled.
A moment later, his reply.
I hope so. You deserve it.
* * * *
They went out a few hours later, Nevvie driving her new car with Thomas as her passenger. The Acura was fantastic. She’d never had a nice used car, much less a new one.
“Do you like it, Nevvie?” Thomas asked.
“I love it. So where to?”
He gave her directions. Twenty minutes later they pulled into an upscale grocery complex, complete with farmer’s market. “What don’t you like to eat?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t do spicy. I don’t like liver. Other than that I’m willing to try anything once.”
“I’m going to cook you a good old-fashioned southern dinner.” He picked up collard greens, okra, green tomatoes, cornbread mix, and a few other things. On the way home he had her pull onto a rough back road and stop at a restaurant on the HillsboroughRiver. The building looked like little more than a bait shop, but cars filled the dusty shell parking lot. Thomas left Nevvie in the Acura and returned a few minutes later with a brown paper bag.
“What’s that?”
He grinned. “Surprise.”
Back home and with a Chicago CD on the stereo, Thomas showed her how to make real fried okra, not the batter-dipped restaurant fare. Flour, corn meal, salt and pepper, fried in a cast-iron skillet on the stove. Ditto the fried green tomatoes. He cooked the collards with a piece of ham, and the mystery package contained smoked mullet.
She wistfully smiled. “I haven’t had mullet since my dad died. He always brought it home Friday nights.”
“Aw, honey, I had a feeling you were a girl after my own heart. Can you believe Ty will suck down kippers, but he won’t touch smoked mullet?”
She scooped a small handful of fried okra from the bowl on the counter and munched. “Bet he doesn’t like this either, does he?”
“That, baby girl, is what I was raised on. Georgia popcorn, right there. He will rarely refuse anything placed before him, for politeness if nothing else, but it’s not worth cooking up a batch of something he won’t like.”
They ate once the cornbread was ready. She dipped out a bowlful of greens, then looked at the table, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t even think. You don’t have any vinegar, do you? For the greens?”
His grin spread ear to ear. He practically raced to the fridge and produced a small shaker bottle. “Wait’ll Tyler gets back. He’s outnumbered by Crackers!”
After dinner they cuddled on the couch to watch Silence of the Lambs , one of her favorite movies.
“I know it’s stupid,” she admitted, “but I always laugh when he’s telling her to put the lotion on.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Something about the way he says it, the rhyme. It always cracks me up.”
Thomas chuckled, hugging her. “You’re as warped as I am, sugar. You like Monty Python?”
“Who doesn’t?” She looked at him. “Oh, don’t
“See? You’re brilliant. Absolutely marvelous. Couldn’t have done a better job myself.”
“Would have been easier with you here to wrangle her. You’ve got a special touch with her. You know I’m no good at that kind of stuff.”
“Lover, you have the same sweet touch with her as you do me. I’ve got to go, I’m speaking in a few. Give her a hug and kiss for me, I’ll talk to you later.”
Thomas ended the call and watched her as she drove ahead of him. She reached up to her face a lot, probably wiping tears. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to get her out of her shell, for her to enjoy being treated like a princess. The sooner she did, the easier it would be to show her how perfect she was for them.
* * * *
At the house, Nevvie parked behind Tyler’s Lexus and realized she had a text message from him on her new BlackBerry.
How does it drive?
She smiled and figured out how to reply.
Wonderful. I’m spoiled.
A moment later, his reply.
I hope so. You deserve it.
* * * *
They went out a few hours later, Nevvie driving her new car with Thomas as her passenger. The Acura was fantastic. She’d never had a nice used car, much less a new one.
“Do you like it, Nevvie?” Thomas asked.
“I love it. So where to?”
He gave her directions. Twenty minutes later they pulled into an upscale grocery complex, complete with farmer’s market. “What don’t you like to eat?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t do spicy. I don’t like liver. Other than that I’m willing to try anything once.”
“I’m going to cook you a good old-fashioned southern dinner.” He picked up collard greens, okra, green tomatoes, cornbread mix, and a few other things. On the way home he had her pull onto a rough back road and stop at a restaurant on the HillsboroughRiver. The building looked like little more than a bait shop, but cars filled the dusty shell parking lot. Thomas left Nevvie in the Acura and returned a few minutes later with a brown paper bag.
“What’s that?”
He grinned. “Surprise.”
Back home and with a Chicago CD on the stereo, Thomas showed her how to make real fried okra, not the batter-dipped restaurant fare. Flour, corn meal, salt and pepper, fried in a cast-iron skillet on the stove. Ditto the fried green tomatoes. He cooked the collards with a piece of ham, and the mystery package contained smoked mullet.
She wistfully smiled. “I haven’t had mullet since my dad died. He always brought it home Friday nights.”
“Aw, honey, I had a feeling you were a girl after my own heart. Can you believe Ty will suck down kippers, but he won’t touch smoked mullet?”
She scooped a small handful of fried okra from the bowl on the counter and munched. “Bet he doesn’t like this either, does he?”
“That, baby girl, is what I was raised on. Georgia popcorn, right there. He will rarely refuse anything placed before him, for politeness if nothing else, but it’s not worth cooking up a batch of something he won’t like.”
They ate once the cornbread was ready. She dipped out a bowlful of greens, then looked at the table, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t even think. You don’t have any vinegar, do you? For the greens?”
His grin spread ear to ear. He practically raced to the fridge and produced a small shaker bottle. “Wait’ll Tyler gets back. He’s outnumbered by Crackers!”
After dinner they cuddled on the couch to watch Silence of the Lambs , one of her favorite movies.
“I know it’s stupid,” she admitted, “but I always laugh when he’s telling her to put the lotion on.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Something about the way he says it, the rhyme. It always cracks me up.”
Thomas chuckled, hugging her. “You’re as warped as I am, sugar. You like Monty Python?”
“Who doesn’t?” She looked at him. “Oh, don’t
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