by ML Mystrom
Yes, I was tired. Bone deep tired. I nodded and leaned my head against his waist.
“I’m gonna take Lori to her room for a break. Betsey, can you take Angel for a bit?”
Another psssht hissed out. “You don’t ever gotta ask me to take care of your young’un, darlin’. Go take care of your girl. I got this.”
Table stood up and offered me a hand. I followed him down a long hallway of rooms. He pointed out one on the way. “This one is mine. You’re welcome to come and go as you please if you need or want to.”
He showed me to a corner room at the end of the hallway. It was larger than I expected with a neatly made-up queen size bed covered in a beautifully sewn quilt. An ornate dresser with matching desk and nightstand were other pieces of furniture, and my few bags were already in the room, sitting in front of a small futon sofa.
“Bathroom is over there. No tub, just a shower, but it looks like there are plenty of towels. Probably Eva’s doing. I bet the bed quilt is one of hers as well.”
I was overwhelmed. The easy acceptance into this group was something I had never experienced. All my life, I had been treated either as a porcelain doll or as an accessory. These people didn’t know me except through Table, and his knowledge was still limited. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.
“It’s beautiful. Everything. It’s just….”
He enfolded me in his arms and I clung to him, taking in his scent of leather and man.
“Ain’t no one here gonna hurt you, baby girl. I’d trust these people not just with my life, but with Angel’s too. No better mama hen than Betsey. Whatever it is, you can let it go for a bit.”
That sounded like a good plan to me. I could relax and just be in the moment. It was about to become a new year and one full of new possibilities. I stretched out on the bed after Table left and closed my eyes, thinking of the freedom of the bike ride I had shared with him weeks ago. Hopefully soon, that freedom would truly be mine.
Twelve
Table was right. I’d never seen so many people at a gathering acting so free and confident. The Lair was filled with laughter, joking, food, and drink. There were people playing pool in some sort of tournament, and I noticed Table was ranked at the top. Others were playing video games. Kids were running around, threading their way through the adults like they were running an obstacle course. A few half-hearted slow downs were called out but for the most part ignored.
Betsey had the place running like a well-oiled machine. Every detail, from tables, cloths, and cutlery to the coolers full of beer, was covered and ready. Large trash cans were in place for the aftermath when everyone would be stumbling around in a food coma. After a brief rest, I helped Betsey and several of the other club wives in the big kitchen with celebration preparations. Despite the cold weather, some of the prospects had already set up several turkey fryers on the outside deck, and others had been manning a gigantic black smoker that held an entire pig. It had been cooking all day and the luscious smell of barbecue wafted its way indoors.
My job was peeling potatoes along with the woman named Donna. I wasn’t sure about her place in the club, as she wasn’t a wife or an “old lady,” but somehow she seemed to belong. At least she belonged enough to complain about the work.
“I cain’t see why we hafta peel and cook forty pound of taters from scratch. Instant is faster. Don’t take no time at all to boil some water and stir ’em up.”
This was obviously the wrong thing to say to a woman organizing a huge family party. Betsey whirled around, Angel firmly anchored over one shoulder, and sent such a fiery look at Donna, I thought the woman would be incinerated on the spot.
“Ain’t no way, no how, this Southern woman is gonna serve instant potatoes at a family gathering. I ain’t never fixed ’em in my life and I ain’t startin’ now.”
Silently, I agreed with Donna, but I also understood Betsey’s pride in what came out of her kitchen. I had finished peeling one ten-pound bag of potatoes and was starting on the next one when Table came into the kitchen. He stopped next to me and stole a chunk of the vegetable. He popped it in his mouth and crunched down. I grimaced at the thought of eating raw potato, but apparently that was acceptable here.
“You okay, baby girl?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
He nodded and looked up at Betsey. “Any chance I’m gonna get my little girl back anytime soon?”
“Nope. Now get outta my kitchen. No, wait. Go check on them chafin’ dishes I tole Bruiser to set up a while ago.”
“What the hell is a chafin’ dish?”
“It’s the one that’s got the little pots of fire you put under ’em to keep ’em warm. Now scoot!”
Table glanced down at me when Betsey turned her back and rolled his eyes.
“I heard that!”
My mouth burst into a wide smile as Table grabbed another chunk of potato and bolted. More and more, the appeal of this group of people was getting to me. Their acceptance and openness was genuine and the affection between them was contagious.
Later that night, I watched as Table won the friendly pool tournament with a complicated banking trick shot. I heard the cheer and saw the heavy back slaps as he collected a few bills from those wagering against him. I was lounging on one of the many couches, a delicious margarita in my hand and a light buzz in my head. Angel was fast asleep up in Betsey’s private area. Table and I both had been up to check on her several times during the evening. She must have been exhausted from the excitement of the day, because she went down without a whimper.
Table came up behind me and sat on the couch arm. He took the drink from my hand and sipped at it. His face wrinkled up.
“Damn, Lori. How in the hell can you drink this girly sweet shit?”
I pouted at him and grabbed my drink back. “It is not girly. It’s good.”
“It’s girlie.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
I rolled my eyes and raised my nose in the air as high as it would go. “You’re such a… such a… man!”
He barked out a laugh. “That, baby girl, we definitely agree on.”
Several of the club prospects were carrying trays loaded with full shot glasses. I guessed it was tequila, as they also carried lemon wedges and salt shakers. One of the members salted his thumb before picking up a shot and a lemon.
“Almost midnight! Let’s bring in the new year Dragon style.”
What the hell, I thought. I’d never tried drinking a shot before, but in the past year I’d done many things I hadn’t in my previous life. Table picked up a shaker, salted his thumb, and handed it to me. I copied his every move, including the way he held the lemon with his salty hand and the shot glass with his other.
Someone started counting down.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
The excitement was palpable. What was it about a new year that was so rousing? Maybe the idea of renewal, second chances, or starting over. Whatever the concept, I was in the zone.
“Seven… six… five...”
I looked at Table and I could feel my face radiating the elation of the moment.
“Four… three… two… one...”
His head descended and he kissed me. Soft. Gentle. Sweet. The tip of his tongue danced over my lips, sending thrills running through my body. I was so lost in his touch, I scarcely heard the cries of Happy New Year. He pulled back slowly, ending the kiss.
“Happy New Year, baby girl.”
I watched mesmerized as he licked his thumb, threw back the tequila, and bit into the lemon. His eyes stayed on mine the whole time and the intensity of that gaze had waves of heat pulsing over me. I didn’t break the stare as I repeated his movements. Salt. Shot. Lemon. Oh shit! A different heat invaded my body. One that scorched a path from my esophagus to my stomach. I choked and coughed, my eyes watering like crazy and my nose filling up to start running.
“Oh, jeez! Oh my! Water! Ice!”
I had to give Table cre
dit for trying not to laugh at me. I was sure he still remembered my reaction the first time he did that, when I ran into the spider web. When he couldn’t hold it in any longer, it burst from him in long peals that nearly sent him to the floor. He managed to snag a bottle of water from a passing prospect and hand it to me before he had to sit or fall over.
“Damn, baby girl. First time takin’ a shot?”
“Yeah. Was it that obvious?” The croak exacerbated the burn in my throat, and I gulped at the water.
“No, not at all,” he deadpanned, before going off in gales of laughter again. I did my best to ignore him, but that was impossible. His mirth at my expense didn’t feel cruel or demeaning. It was just Table enjoying the moment.
It wasn’t too much longer until the stresses of the day finally caught up to me. Or maybe it was me not being used to so much booze. My head was pleasantly buzzing as Table walked me back to the room I was using and stood in the doorway. He stroked one finger down my cheek.
“You gonna be okay for the night, Lori?”
I blinked, suddenly sleepy. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He leaned in and gave me a sweet lip touch. “Sleep well, baby girl. We gotta travel back tomorrow.”
He waited another few seconds before turning and walking away. I sensed he didn’t want to but needed to.
My heart was falling for this man and my body cried out for more than just his kisses, but my head was holding back. Secrets, so many secrets! I was at a crossroads and didn’t have a clue which road to take. Did I let this man into my heart? Did I risk giving him a piece of me? A piece I may never get back?
Thirteen
Connie had called me with a wretched feverish voice and pleaded with me to take on the cleaning jobs for a few days solo. Anita was out of town with her boyfriend for the weekend, so what could I say? During the holidays, the cleaning and house primping jobs had picked up huge and I was stashing away a huge wad of money. The work seemed to increase after the holidays simply because of the cleanup effort involved. It was nice making so much extra, but I was getting sick of taking down ornaments, wrestling strings of lights down from gutters, and removing whatever else the matron of the house had put out as Christmas decorations. I had always loved primping up for the holidays and getting into the Christmas spirit, but after wrestling the sixth gigantic formerly live tree to the curb for pickup, I was over it.
Since it was just me working through the houses, it took me longer than usual. A few of the women were miffed that their schedules were interrupted by my vacuuming and dusting for them, but most of them were okay with the delays and the later hours. I finished my last house around seven thirty and was finally on the way home, smelling of a combination of Pine-Sol and bleach. Thick flakes had fallen heavily throughout the day. It had stopped earlier but left a coating on the trees and lawns in sparkling white. It was a beautiful postcard vista. The only ugly bit was my dilapidated van making its way through the pristine snow on the roads.
Eventually the pretty scenery gave way to the twisted hill road that led out of the highbrow community and back down to the city. I still had some distance to go to get home and could already feel the vehicle sliding around. I cursed as the tires lost traction again and again. The hills around this mountain suburb of Asheville were steep and, in some cases, needed four-wheel drive and good tires to negotiate. I didn’t have either, so my progress was slow and tedious. I thought the main road should be fine once I got there, but getting there was going to take a long time. A loud honk made me jump and I spotted a dark sedan on my tail. I cursed at the reckless driver, as there wasn’t a lot of room for passing on these roads and I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do about it. I inched over as best I could and felt the van slip again. I risked the cold air and put down the window to wave the beastly driver around me. He didn’t budge but kept right on my bumper, flashing his lights and honking his horn as we coasted down the hill.
“Stupid asshole!” I muttered as I rode the brakes down the steep grade and hoped he wouldn’t ram into me. I was starting to feel some genuine fear when he kept pushing.
Just get to the main road, just get to the main road, I thought over and over as I slipped and slid. Was this just some random asshole driver, or was he following me? Trying to run me off the road? Had all my efforts to stay under the radar failed? Maybe I should just take the highway exit once I got there, just abandon my stuff back at the farm and get away. There was a loud bang underneath my van and the brake pedal suddenly pushed to the floorboard, not an ounce of pressure. The vehicle picked up speed and there was nothing I could do about it. I screamed as the van skidded, and pumped at the useless brakes. The steering wheel suddenly locked and I wrestled with it, trying to gain some sort of control. The van spun like a mad carnival ride and crashed hard into the guardrail, coming to a complete stop. I was lucky it hadn’t given way and sent me over the side of the mountain.
I was shaking like a leaf and my hands were locked onto the worthless steering wheel when the sedan pulled over across the other side of the road. A slim-built man in a thick black parka got out of the car. I couldn’t see his face as he slowly approached my van. My throat worked, trying to find my voice, any voice to scream, but I was locked tight in terror. I wanted to leap out of the vehicle and run, but I was frozen to the spot. All I could do was watch and wait.
“Hey, you okay?” came a young male teenage voice. “I hope I didn’t scare you none. I’s just tryin’ to get you to stop. There’s somethin’ leakin’ out the back.”
I let out a breath as two more teenagers came out of the car and stood by my crumpled van. I felt a tingle of relief draw up in my nose and I nearly cried in front of the kids. “Yeah, I’m good,” I managed. “My brakes failed.”
“I ain’t surprised. There’s a long line of fluid trailing down the hill for a couple miles. I bet the main line is completely dry. Probably have to get a tow.”
“No probably about it. You got two flat tires as well as the bad brakes,” the other boy piped in, pointing to the collapsed front end. “This puppy ain’t going nowhere.”
The first kid whistled at the damage and pulled out a fancy smartphone. “You got a cell? Someone to call?”
I had my cheap throwaway and there was only one person I could call. “Yeah, I do.” I grabbed the new phone I had picked up a few days ago and hit one of two numbers I had programmed.
“’Lo?” Table’s low voice rumbled in my ear. I could hear music in the background and the buzzing of the tattoo machines.
“Table,” I managed to utter before I lost it. I don’t know why, but hearing his masculine voice did something to me. Tears poured down my cheeks, and I sucked in a breath, trying to hold back the sobs.
His tone went from inquiring to alert. “Talk to me, Lori. What’s happened?”
I couldn’t say anything without my breath hitching. The leader of the teenagers took the phone from my hand and spoke into it.
“Hello, this is Bryce Turner. This lady’s had an accident ’bout halfway down Briar Cliff Road near the bell curve. Bad brakes, we think, and two flat tires. Nah, she says she’s okay but shaken up a bit. How long? Ah-right. We’ll hang till you get here.” He closed the phone with a snap and handed it back to me. “Your boyfriend will be here soon. You can sit in the car and keep warm if you want.”
I wasn’t feeling the cold, but I was still shaking like a leaf. “Not a boyfriend. Just a friend,” I stuttered, and wrapped my arms around myself, fighting for control. “It’s the adrenaline kicking in from the accident. I’ll be fine if you and your friends want to take off.”
He looked at me like I was an alien from another planet. “My mom would skin me alive if I left someone alone in the cold and the dark, especially after a car wreck. Our curfew ain’t for a few hours and we don’t have plans that can’t be changed.”
“Where would you want to go on a night like this?” I asked. “It seems the bad weather would be enough to keep everyone at home.”
> He grinned and shrugged. “You grow up in a mountain city, you get used to mountain weather. Heather, Scott, ’n me were headed to the mall for some shopping and Starbucks.” He pointed to his vehicle. “I got four-wheel drive, six cylinders, and heavy-duty snow tires on that sucker. Best car for going around in the snow. ’Sides, the biggest problem around here ain’t snow, it’s ice. Might be that’s what you hit on that curve, you know? Black ice? You can’t see that shit—uh—stuff, until you hit it.”
Heather jumped into the conversation, “You ain’t lyin’! My cousin Rowena hit a patch of black ice last year. Totaled her Mazda!”
The kids exchanged tale after tale of car wrecks, bad snowstorms, and other stories while we waited. They were funny and I found myself relaxing in their company, laughing at the outrageous tales. I found out Bryce was a senior in high school, being raised by a single mom and working part-time at a local auto parts store. He was planning on going to college at UNC Asheville next year and was undecided between majoring in Environmental Studies or Atmospheric Sciences. He was definitely the leader of the little group and the most mature kid I’d ever met. I could see a bright future ahead of him.
Their easy banter kept me occupied enough that I didn’t notice the time going by. Bryce perked up and pointed out the headlights coming in our direction. I was surprised to see a tow truck and two other vehicles driving and parking on the narrow shoulders. I recognized Table’s truck as he stopped just behind Bryce’s car. He got out, slammed the door closed, and stalked over to me.
“Table,” I was able to say before he clutched me to his chest in a big bear hug. I had no choice but to hug him back.
“Damn, baby girl,” he said raggedly. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, and I realized how cold I had become. I felt those stupid tears start up again and buried my face in his thermal-covered chest. He finally released me. “You okay? Nothing broke? Need a hospital?”
