by Taylor Berke
The women, including Billie, fell into peals of laughter at the last part of Florence’s opinion. What was with Ben and all the ropes? This was not the first time there was teasing innuendos about that. She would have to ask Ben when she wasn’t so annoyed with him.
Lillian looked kindly at Lizzie when she had finally stopped laughing. “What my sister-in-law means is that Ben and the boys, well, sometimes they stick their feet in their mouths when they are trying to attempt to use their communication skills with a woman. Actually, it would be better said if I just came out and said that they stink at it.”
“Amen to that. It’s the truth, Lizzie. Powell men are literally devoid of the communication chromosome. It is a DNA flaw in their genes which I am assured from Lillian here is carried in the Powell male’s semen. I can personally confirm that Jackson can communicate better with our horses than with me. Fortunately for him, I speak ‘dopey male’ fluently and can usually figure out what he is trying to say. You, on the other hand, just have begun your schooling in the language of Powell man speak and will require months and months of translation lessons to get a handle on what those well-meaning Neanderthals originally intended to say,” Billie said with a confident smile now on her face. All traces of illness suddenly disappeared and she noticed the cakes set on the table in front of her. With the interest of a woman who hadn’t eaten in a year, she picked one up with chocolate frosting and practically shoved the whole thing into her mouth, smiling with a look of rapture on her face.
Florence and Lillian smiled knowingly at each other again.
“Hungry, dear?” Lillian asked Billie with a soft smile on her face.
“Oh yes, this pastry is just delicious, Lillian. Lizzie, did you make these?” Billie mumbled out between bites with her mouth full.
“Slow down, Billie! I can get you more. Geez, you would think that you would take it easy on your pitiful stomach after how poorly you have been feeling lately. I mean, you are the town doctor and all. Well, we all trust you to know the right things to do, you know.” Lizzie laughed at her friend.
“Well then, if you trust me to know the truth about ‘things,’ then we will expect you at the ranch for Sunday dinner then?” Billie caught Lizzie in her trap with a smirk.
Lizzie looked at the three women sitting around her with confident smiles on their faces. “No way. He only asked me because he felt pity for me. He did it for himself, not me. I appreciate the offer, of course, and mean no offense to both Florence and Lillian but I cannot allow him to do that to me.”
Florence looked at Lizzie in a very motherly fashion. “No, honey, we would understand that, if that was his intention. However, all the boys, Bill and my dear departed Martin, all have difficulty being honest with their feelings, at least initially. It will get better, I promise. They can all be taught. Ask Billie.” Florence nodded in Billie’s direction.
In midbite of her third pastry, this time a glazed blueberry confection, Billie said, “Yes, Jackson now thinks before he speaks. He messed up last week, trying to tell me why he loved me. Compared me with a perfect cow or something so I showed him! I threw up all over him and his new boots!”
Lillian gave a small laugh. “Yes, honey, you sure showed him. Lizzie dear, Ben just wanted you with him, this I am sure about. I know my son.”
“Lillian, I don’t mean to disrespect you but you may be wrong. You are a bit, um, biased here,” Lizzie gently mentioned.
“That is true, honey, I am. Ben is my sweet, gentle little boy. However, there is no arguing the facts. Ben has never asked a girl over for Sunday dinner before, never. Before Billie, Jackson had never asked either, isn’t that right?” Lillian asked the beautiful town doctor, doing her best impression of a hungry, bottomless pit.
“Yes, it’s true! Apparently, it is a Powell tradition to drag their feet until dripping with blood when concerning relationships with women but once they do, well, that’s it!” Billie exclaimed with crumbs falling out of the mouth of the normally perfectly mannered lady.
Lizzie tried to digest that bit of vivid imagery while trying to imagine the huge, hulking Benjamin Powell as Lillian’s “sweet, gentle little boy.” Difficult, it was very difficult for her to see but Billie’s explanation did soothe her ruffled feathers quite a bit. She really did love and trust Billie implicitly. If Jackson, who by everyone’s opinion was head over heels in love with Billie, had difficulty communicating his thoughts, then perhaps Ben did suffer from the same affliction.
“Please do permit Lillian and I the honor of having you over to the house for dinner this Sunday. I do believe crow will be served as the main dish on Ben’s plate and I would so thoroughly enjoy watching him have to eat it! If nothing else, please allow us some amusement other than watching Jackson cleaning up his boots after poor Billie throws up on them again.
Billie looked at Lizzie hopefully, unable to speak as she was chewing on some sort of fig bread that she had smeared with homemade blackberry jam.
“Um, well, okay. I guess for your sakes I will be there and see what comes of this potential disaster but I am going to need a ride home if he falls ill with the Powell man disease again, okay?” Lizzie answered hesitantly.
Both Lillian and Florence looked at each other with suspicious smiles.
“Deal,” they both said in unison.
This was going to be an interesting Sunday, Lizzie thought as she watched Billie get up and run for the bathroom.
Chapter Eleven
From inside her cozy restaurant dining room, Lizzie sat with Mimi watching the rain pelt the front windows. The stormy weather definitely lent a comfortable air that conjured up images of fireplaces, warm cocoa, and snuggling up with a good man. Well, perhaps in her case, she would have to settle for just a good book as she was a bit low on cuddling men in her storage cupboard. She heard Mimi give a soft sigh, whether out of concern for the weather or boredom, as the café was empty. The sound of the driving rain was similar to a whine that sent shivers up her spine as it sneaked through the cracks by the front door.
“Hey, Lizzie, have you seen those handsome men that had lunch in here a few days ago? I have no idea who they are but they are welcome to come in and be our eye candy any day,” Mimi asked Lizzie with a dreamy look on her face.
Lizzie gave her a soft smile. Mimi needed someone special to love on her. She was one of the kindest, sweetest women that Lizzie had ever known. When little Tommy Mather’s drug-addicted parents had taken off and left him at six years old, it had been Mimi who stepped up and took him in. Mimi was left unable to have children after a car accident in her teen years and had fallen in love with the precious little man. She had gladly given up her wild years to be both mother and father to Tommy who thought the sun rose and set only for her.
“No, I have no idea who they are but they give me the creeps. They are always staring at me and not in a good way every time I see them at the market or on the street. I don’t even like when they come in here. They are all yours, darling girl, if you can catch them. Three is quite a bit of man to handle!” Lizzie laughed out.
Mimi gave a Lizzie a smut-inspired smile and returned to gazing out at the torrential rain and wind that was pounding all the stores on Main Street. Huge puddles were forming that resembled small lakes, probably deep enough to swamp Lizzie’s car.
“Mimi, hon, why don’t you pack up and go home? I would feel a lot better if I knew that you got home safely. They issued a flash flood warning according to the weather update and we both have some dangerous roads to travel to get home. I am going to check on Billie and see if she wants me to take her home. She had Jackson drop her off this morning, okay?” Lizzie said authoritatively. She was rather protective of Mimi as she, too, didn’t have much decent family in her life either. Someone had to look out for her as she was such a love, always willing to assist Lizzie anytime and with anything.
Mimi looked sideways at Lizzie and obviously came to a decision. “Okay, boss lady. I actually think that is a good idea. Let
me lock up in the back and then I will head out. You be careful, too, okay? Your rusty old clunker doesn’t double as ferry boat, missy! If you don’t call me in an hour, you are in big trouble, Madame.”
Lizzie gave her a saucy salute and then a warm hug as she moved to the front door. Taking a deep breath, knowing that she was about to have her second shower of the day, she opened the door and took off in a dead run across the street. Billie’s office was a stunning blend of charming stonework and flowerboxes outside the front windows. Lizzie felt a small prickle of apprehension as lightning flashed and she was instantly drenched from the driving raindrops.
In her focus on running as fast as she could from the café to Billie’s office, she had narrowly avoided being hit by the huge silver Cadillac. Lizzie had a moment of total shock as the car came to a screeching halt just a foot from her drenched form, as though it was no accident. The window had rolled down as the shadowed face of her tormenter came into view.
“Can I give you a ride home, Lizzie? I would suggest you get in this car.” Theodore Davis’s gravelly voice dripped with a menacing suggestion.
“Thank you but of course, that would be a ‘no’ from me, Mr. Davis,” Lizzie retorted while trying to keep the rain out of her eyes.
“You just don’t learn, sweetheart, do you? I am going to have you sooner than later, so you had best be nice to me. I can give you a lot of pleasure or quite a bit of pain. The choice is yours.” Theodore’s eyes ran over her exposed body, his lust being conveyed without censure.
Lizzie’s shock now turned to fear at the unveiled threat directed at her. The very idea of that man just looking at her much less placing his hands anywhere on her person made her feel nauseated. Taking off in a run, she bolted for the safety of Billie’s office.
She yanked open the front door, startling the only other occupant of the front office, Julia, Billie’s receptionist, office manager and comedian. Julia’s eyes just widened in disbelief as she took in the drowned little woman standing in the doorway, with dripping hair that was covering her face.
“You look like my Lizzie but how can I tell with all the water dripping off you and looking like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family? Can I offer you a towel, Lizzie? Why are you not home? That’s it! Get your little tushie out of here and into your car! Billie!” Julia hollered very loudly as she spewed out her mishmash of questions and comments in her usual brash but honest style.
Just then, Billie rounded the corner with a chart in her hand, looking up at the wet woman that resembled her friend.
“Um, Lizzie, when you take a bath you do know that it is customary to take your clothes off, you know?” Billie laughed out.
“Ha-ha, ladies. I just came over to see if either of you needed me to take you home. As for your questions, Julia, me and my wet tushie are ready to leave and no, I normally do not look like Cousin Itt. Maybe I should wear it like this on Sunday for dinner, Billie? Maybe Ben will like it?” Lizzie said with a smile.
“Is that so, Ms. High and Mighty? Well, I don’t think he would mind at all, darling Lizzie. Look in the mirror,” Billie responded smugly.
“Acckkkk!” Lizzie yelped out after glancing in the mirror.
No wonder Theodore Davis had risked stopping his car in the middle of the street, where anyone could see, to threaten her. The soft white cotton top and pale-pink skinny pants, soaking wet, were now completely see-through. No detail of her satin and lace bra and thong were left to the imagination. You could even see the color, shape, and size of her nipples! Lizzie felt as naked as she presumed she must look.
“Don’t think anything of it, honey. You killed two birds with one stone,” Julia said comfortingly. “You cleverly reminded the men of this town that not only are you brilliant but also have a figure women would kill for and now you have also done your wash! See, you are a very clever girl. Okay, now get yourself home or better yet, wait with us for Jackson. He is coming to pick us up and probably will be rather angry if we let you drive that piece of mold home in conditions like this.”
“I am very glad that he is coming in for you both but no worries, I will take my mold and go. I will be fine. No need to inconvenience anyone, darlings. I will call you later to see how the swim home was. Besides, there is only one Powell that I want to see me in this condition and the chauffeur already has the hots for my best friend,” Lizzie said with a warm smile at Billie. “Bye, girls!”
She heard Billie yell for her to wait but she dashed herself right back out into the rain and felt herself slam into something very solid. It was something very warm and solid that caught her in its arms. Lizzie felt herself being hauled up with her back plastered up against the wet shirt of a very large man. Lizzie caught her breath and turned her head to squint up at her savior, feeling delight that Ben was here. As she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, the figure of a very handsome man emerged. Sighing with disappointment, she realized that it was Cole who held her protectively, trying to shield her from slipping again in her espadrille sandals and from the storm. Damn, right name but the wrong Powell, Lizzie laughed to herself. She heard him murmur in her ear as to whether or not she was hurt. Lizzie shook her head negatively, starting to shake from the wet and cold.
She heard Cole let out a laugh. “Listen, Lizzie, you had better get your behind back to your café before Ben beats the stuffing out of me for letting you run around like that.”
“What is the matter if I run around, mister?” Lizzie quizzed him, trying to wipe the water from her eyes. Not hearing a response she looked back up at him. He allowed his gaze to momentarily sweep her sodden clothes that left nothing to the imagination before returning to meet her embarrassed expression.
“I would give you my coat Lizzie, if I had one. Now get going before I have to kill anyone. Ben would want me to, you understand, for seeing you like this,” Cole said while pushing her in the direction of the café.
Lizzie gave him a quick hug and ran herself back across the street to lock up and get herself home as she was being ordered to do by everyone.
Cole followed her with his gaze as she got back into the restaurant and let out a whistle. “Shit, Ben has himself one hell of a woman there. I hope he doesn’t fuck this one up.”
About ten minutes later, Jackson was talking with Cole in Billie’s office.
“What the hell do you all mean that you let her drive herself home in that piece of dung she has the nerve to call a car? Cole, you are a man, you know better!” Jackson yelled at his cousin.
Cole appeared unruffled by the insult but Jackson was immediately set upon with a slap and yell from Billie. Just as he turned to address the brilliant love of his life, he felt a hand pull him over as if to give him a hug. Whack! Julia slapped him in the back of his head to remind him to be respectful and to stop saying stupid things that would rile up Billie.
Jackson whipped out his cell while trying to ignore the irate women now in front of him. “Ben, it’s me. Just thought you should know that Lizzie is currently trying to drive herself home in the piece of crap she uses as transportation. Stop yelling at me. I didn’t let her go! I just got here. It was Cole, go yell at him!”
Jackson put Ben on speaker. “If I ever catch either one of you dumbass men, excuse me ladies, you had better make sure you have your life insurance paid up! Then, I am going to make that butt of hers so red when I get ahold of her, she is going to be mistaken for a stop sign! She has to cross a low water crossing. Shit! I mean shoot, sorry. Gotta go.” Ben hung up, obviously concerned.
“Well, with how wet her pants are, he will definitely be able to make out all the necessary anatomy to discipline her properly.” Julia laughed out. “Come on, kids, let’s swim home!”
* * * *
Lizzie kept up her mantra that she just kept repeating in her head, I will not panic. As soon as she left the café, she had her hackles up as she tried to pilot her wreck of a car carefully home. The wind kept pulling it from side to side like a hang glider, causing Lizzie to white-kn
uckle the steering wheel. Shoot, she shouldn’t have been too hasty and cocky by insisting that she could drive herself home. Jackson or Cole’s giant trucks would definitely have been a much safer choice but here she was and now she had only herself to rely on, as usual. Funny but it was a position that she could handle, as she was accustomed to being in it but found herself wishing for some of the sweet relief she had briefly felt by allowing Ben into her world and helping take some of her cares away. She was going to have to work on trusting that.
“Oh no,” Lizzie said aloud. The stream up ahead was rising but there was still space between the water and the underside of the old wooden crossing. Lizzie took a deep breath and stopped the car. Should she risk it? She felt the icy fingers of fear mixed with caution claw at her stomach. If she stayed here, she might be trapped by the rising water, as she was in a lower area, but if she tried to go over the crossing, well, who knew how old that thing was and how stable it would or would not be.
Lizzie decided on the latter, not with as much confidence as she would like, however. She shifted her wet body on the cool ripped seat of her jalopy and prayed that it would hold up for this little adventure. I am never going to hear the end of this one, she figured, if anything happens.
“Well, here goes nothing. Come on, car, please don’t fail me,” Lizzie crooned to her old faithful. As she slowly maneuvered her car over the old wood, she heard the creaking and groan as it gave under the new weight added to the already sodden wood. Lizzie gave a startled shriek as she felt the bridge tip and snap as her car was plunged into the fast-moving water below. Turns out, her prayers worked. Her car had held up but unfortunately the bridge didn’t get the same memo to stay afloat.
* * * *
“Dammit, Lizzie, where the hell are you and why aren’t you picking up your cell!” Ben yelled at his useless cell. Where could she be and why would she try to drive her piece of crap in this? Even if she had a four-wheel-drive tank, he would have come for her. He had just known that Jackson was driving in to pick up Billie and Julia. He felt stupid for assuming that she would have the sense to allow Jackson to drive her home, too. Never again was he going to make that mistake and after the correction she was going to get, neither would she!
