by M. A. Stone
“This next fella is called . . . Joker. Come on out, will you?” she asked, looking at me on the sidelines. Making sure my mask was on properly, I walked up to the stage and tried not to flinch at the bright lights. I gave everyone in the crowd a smile and chuckled at the cat calls.
“Joker is 30 and a Norfolk native. He currently teaches ninth grade history at Pretty Boy High School and coaches soccer. He loves anything Indiana Jones, sports and Civil War history,” she stated as I walked over to her, spun around slowly and gave the crowd another smile. Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” began to play, which made me chuckle.
“Your date with Joker starts with a trip to the Virginia Zoo to partake in their Kiss & Tail evening program that includes a funny presentation on romance and dating, appetizers and an evening zoo tour. After the event, you’ll be whisked back here to Mermaid Winery for a quiet, cozy dinner,” she told the crowd in a seductive tone.
“So, ladies, who wants to go for a walk on the wild side with Joker?” she asked. Several women in the audience cheered and I let loose my dimpled smile.
“Bidding will start at five hundred dollars,” she said as women stood waving their arms in the air.
“Six hundred!!!” yelled a very familiar female voice. Looking out into the crowd, I saw that it was my sister- in -law, Ashton. I shook my head and tried not to frown. Bryce sat beside her and wiggled his eyebrows and nodded his head. I walked to the other side of the stage and smiled at the ladies.
“I hear six hundred . . . six hundred . . . can I get six fifty?” asked the auctioneer with a grin.
“Seven hundred!” yelled out a woman from my side of the stage. Nadine cheered.
“Seven hundred! I have seven hundred . . . seven hundred . . . can I get SEVEN FIFTY?” called out the auctioneer in his booming voice; filling the room.
“Seven seventy-five!” yelled out my freakin’ brother, Bryce. Ashton looked at him and frowned. Nadine glanced over and pursed her lips.
“Um . . . so we uh . . . have seven seventy-five from the uh . . . gentleman to my left? Can I get eight hundred? Eight hundred dollars?” asked the auctioneer; faltering for a moment at the sight that was my brother, Bryce. I grinned at this.
“Come on now, ladies, this is for a worthy cause and I can guarantee you will have a wild time with Joker! Come on, someone give me eight hundred!” commented Nadine as she waved one fist in the air; coming out from behind her podium. The music switched over to “Finesse” by Bruno Mars and I sashayed away from my brother’s side of the stage.
“Fifteen hundred dollars!” called out from my side of the stage. I looked down to see a familiar-looking woman, dressed in a skin tight emerald halter dress and amazingly long, curly dark hair. She looked different than what I was used to, and she had the best, most open smile I’d seen in ages. Nadine came over and leaned on me.
“I have fifteen hundred! Can I get fifteen fifty? Anyone wanna give me fifteen fifty?” bellowed the auctioneer as Nadine beamed.
“Wow! Okay, anyone want to top that bet?” teased Nadine. I looked over my shoulder at my brother and before I could give him a warning look, he opened his fat, stupid mouth.
“Seventeen hundred!” he bellowed out. Nadine shot me a look and I shrugged.
“Seventeen hundred dollars!” proclaimed the auctioneer. The crowed roared.
“Two thousand dollars and I WILL go higher!” yelled out the looker in the green dress, shooting my brother a challenging look; eyes narrowed, and arms crossed over her impressive chest. Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and frowned back until Ashton pinched him.
“Two thousand, I have two thousand dollars. Two thousand dollars going once . . . two thousand going twice . . . and SOLD to the goddess in the green dress!” sang out the auctioneer. Nadine whooped as she held my hand and thrust it in the air like I’d just won a boxing match. My eldest brother made a loud noise and I chuckled as my other brother, Floyd, pushed him out of the room. I walked off the stage and nodded to the next bachelor who was about to go on.
One by one, all of us bachelors filed back onto the stage and removed the masks we’d been told to wear by Nadine. I had to admit, McKenna, Colton and I had been partaking of the open bar and we were more than a little tipsy. Nadine walked over, gave us a stern look and handed us each an envelope. Tucking it into my jacket pocket, I smirked at the guys and went in search of more to drink. I stopped as I felt a hand grip my upper arm.
“If you drink another sip, I will kidnap you, bury you up to your neck in your backyard and cover your head in honey. Two words, fire ants,” hissed Nadine as she pinched my bicep for good measure. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she huffed out a breath from between her lips. I nodded slowly, for once scared of my childhood friend. Colton laughed, and she fixed him with a look of death that silenced him instantly.
“Water, I’ll go grab some water, ma’am,” I stuttered out. McKenna looked like he was trying not to laugh, and Colton took off. Nadine nodded tersely and walked away.
“Ma’am?” asked McKenna. I flipped him off and went over to the bar to see if they had any bottled water.
After grabbing a bottle of water, I walked out to the main floor of the event. Grabbing the envelope out of my pocket, I started to open it when I heard someone clear their voice. Sliding it back into my jacket, I looked to my right to see who needed me.
“Excuse me, is it okay if I talk to you?” said a soft voice with a heavy southern accent. I smiled widely.
“Ahh my mystery bidder. I would think, seeing as how you spent so much money on me, that at the very least, you could have a conversation with me,” I teased, flashing her with a smile that I hope conveyed warmth and not creepiness. She ducked her head down and blushed. With a shake of her head, she fixed her expression and gave me a half confident smile. I popped the cap off the water and took a huge swallow; sighing as the cool water touched my parched throat. I silently prayed that I didn’t smell like a brewery.
“Um . . . which day works best for you? For the date?” she stammered. I touched her arm and she smiled nervously. Suddenly, I knew who she was and that made me happy beyond belief.
“Holy shit it’s you! Miss Knight?!” I exclaimed, then trailed off as her smile grew and she nodded. I was going out with the woman I’d been secretly lusting after. Hallelujah praise the Lord! She opened her mouth to speak and a woman slid up to us. She looked just like my mystery woman, except she had purple highlights in her chin length black hair and her eyes were a darker shade of blue with smile lines at their corners. She was wearing a black skirt and a red halter top.
“Hey there, Joker is it?” she asked in a husky voice as she held out her hand. I took it and was surprised at her firm grip.
“Yes ma’am, that’s me, childhood nickname. But you can call me Jacoby. And you are?” I asked. She nodded and smiled.
“Mae Knight, I’m her sister,” she replied, cocking her head in the direction of my date.
“Ahh, that explains the resemblance. Well it’s nice to meet you. Thank you both for coming to this. And now I sound like a game show host. Fantastic,” I muttered. Mae chuckled and looked at her sister; who seemed to be tongue tied. Believe me, I knew the feeling.
“Her name is Mobley. But we all call her Moe,” explained Mae. I nodded and grinned, wondering if Mobley was going to speak to me or if Mae was her mouthpiece. Moe squirmed uncomfortably, and I touched her elbow with my hand. I felt a shock, like static electricity and I noticed that Moe jumped, eyes widening slightly.
“It was nice meeting you, Mae. I was about to take your sister someplace quieter to get to know her better. So, if you’ll excuse us,” I told her as I steered Moe out of the room. Mae made a sound of protest and I smiled as I kept walking. We walked out to a small patio with various small, round glass patio tables scattered around, their umbrella shades open and strung with twinkle lights. I held out a chair for Mobley and then went around and sat across from her. She had an amused look on her face.
&
nbsp; “Your sister seems like the controlling type,” I pointed out. Moe laughed.
“I wish I could’ve taken a picture of her face when you told her we were leaving her in there! It was priceless!” she laughed, not a stutter or stammer in her voice. I laughed along with her, easily.
“Has she always talked for you?” I asked. She nodded and brushed a stray curl off her tanned shoulder.
“Mama used to tell her ‘Mae . . . let little Mobley talk.’ She’s the oldest and I’m the youngest. She did that with my brother Baylor too,” she admitted with a shy smile.
“My brother, Kevin used to do the same with me. I had a speech impediment when I was a kid and he would always try to ‘translate’ for me. It drove my Mama nuts!” I told her with a laugh.
“I work at Pretty Boy High School with you,” she blurted out and then looked up as a waiter came over. We ordered waters and then I waited for the waiter to leave before I responded.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. In fact, you’re the lovely lady that wrangled my nephew, Indiana the other day, right?” I asked. She chuckled and nodded.
“I have to give you tons of credit, that’s not an easy feat. But wait, that’s not the first time we’ve met is it?” I asked, playing dumb.
“No. There’ve been a few school functions we’ve managed to bump into one another at,” she said with a smile. I nodded in agreement.
“And we’ve been on quite a few committees together too,” I added. She was the one to nod this time.
“I’m also his art teacher. Yesterday, I was just covering for the assistant principal and Indiana happened into my …well her…office,” she explained. I sighed and ran a hand over my hair.
“Was he mean to you?” I asked with a wince, knowing my nephew’s temper. She laughed and shook her head.
“No, he definitely wasn’t. He’s one of my best students. It’s just that temper of his and his sassy mouth!” she said with a laugh, her eyes wide with mirth.
“Don’t I know it! His Meemaw has him building pig troughs for her farm, a punishment until his father returns from business. He’s learning his lesson about fighting, for now anyways,” I told her. She nodded.
“I certainly hope so. I would hate for him to get a name as a troublemaker when he truly is a delight to have in class. And he’s so smart,” she added. I nodded my head in thanks.
“About the other day, I knew your name and I wasn’t being rude. It was just a long day. And you look amazing tonight, you don’t look like this at work,” I told her, earning a blush that made me wonder what other parts of her got pink when she was embarrassed.
“Thank you, Jacoby. I must say, you look pretty spiffy yourself,” she said as she cocked her head to the side and hit me with a dimpled smile. We stared at one another for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward or anything like that. I felt the chemistry crackle between us and I cleared my throat to ease the pressure.
“So, your nephew does a lot of work when he’s in trouble I take it?” she asked. I nodded and laughed.
“He’s helped to build a fence, painted the barn and all of the shutters on Mama’s house,” I replied.
“If your Mama runs out of work, my sister could always use some extra help at her shelter,” she offered.
“Is it like a homeless shelter or something?” I asked. She laughed, a full-on belly laugh and shook her head.
“Mae owns and operates Pretty Boy Animal Shelter. She took it over from our Mama about eight years ago. She can always use the help,” she replied as she tucked a long strand of hair behind her left ear. She looked up and her expression grew confused.
“Um . . . do you know them?” she asked, pointing behind me. Spinning around in my seat, I groaned. Floyd was looking at us curiously with Bryce mimicking his expression. Ashton looked annoyed at the both of them, her hands on her belly.
“Oh yeah. That’s part of my family,” I replied as I looked at both of my brothers with their arms crossed over their chests and Ashton, an apologetic expression on her face.
Chapter Two
“You did what now?” asked Mama as she turned the chicken she was frying on the stove. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a patterned kerchief. She was wearing an apron that said, “First I do the coffee, then I do the hair”. When I didn’t answer her, she focused her hazel eyes on me.
“Jacoby, your mama is talkin’ to you. What did you do?” she asked, hands on her wide hips. Mama looked like a younger, blonder version of Shirley MacLaine, but with more curves.
“I agreed to be a part of a bachelor’s auction,” I told her as I stirred sugar into my coffee. I could feel her eyes on me.
“What?” I asked her as she leaned against the stove. I pointed in the direction of the cast iron skillet.
“You’re going to burn your chicken,” I told her. She waved me off with her hand.
“I already turned the gas off. It’s not gonna burn,” she told me and then gave me a look that let me know she was waiting for further explanation.
“Nadine, you remember Nadine Marks? Well she asked me to do the auction, for charity,” I started, and she held her hand up.
“What kind of charity makes you get naked? What’s wrong with that girl? I’m about to get on the phone and have a talk with her mama,” she replied, going to the red rotary phone on the wall next to the fridge.
“Mama! Put down the phone. You don’t need to call Mrs. Marks, she was at the auction! And no one got naked. It’s not a strip show. It was a classy auction . . . men were in tuxedos and such. It was for charity!” I bellowed. Floyd came shuffling in the kitchen, wearing no shirt and just a pair of pale green scrub pants. Mama gave him a dissatisfied look and then turned her attention back to me.
“What’s all the hollerin’?” he grumbled as he ran a hand over his messy hair. He grabbed a mug from next to the coffee pot and poured himself some coffee.
“Your baby brother was tellin’ me how he took his clothes off for charity,” Mama replied. I smacked my forehead with my palm and groaned.
“Mama, he didn’t take off his clothes. No one did. It was for charity. What was the charity again, Joker?” he asked me after taking a huge sip of coffee. Mama pursed her lips, hating the nickname her sons had given me.
“Healing Heroes. It’s an organization that trains rescue dogs, Mama. You know, to help veterans with their PTSD,” I replied. Mama’s face softened.
“Like Kevin?” she asked, her voice soft and her eyes tearing up. I nodded. She came over and sat down at the large, oak kitchen table; pulled a white handkerchief out of her cleavage and wiped at her eyes. We used to joke that she kept everything in there; we weren’t far off base with that assumption.
“Yes, Mama. Like Kevin. If he was still here, I’m sure he’d be a perfect match or something like that,” I replied. Floyd frowned.
“Perfect match? It’s not a kidney donation organization, Joker,” he said sarcastically. Mama’s head snapped up and she shot him with a ‘look’.
“Did someone bid on you?” she asked. I nodded, and Floyd grinned knowingly.
“It started out with Bryce bidding on me. Apparently, he had a plan, because he thinks I’m a bridge troll or something and no lady would want to bid on the likes of me,” I muttered. Mama tousled my hair and smiled.
“You’re so handsome. Why does your brother behave like such a horse’s ass, bless his heart?” she complained. Floyd snickered.
“Cause that’s just what he is: a horse’s ass. He’s lucky Ashton hasn’t murdered him in his sleep yet,” replied Floyd. Mama laughed and nodded.
“So, this girl . . . it was a girl wasn’t it? I mean, I don’t care if a boy bid on you . . . I just think you need a nice girl after . . . Calliope,” she said sweetly. I frowned at the mention of my ex.
“Yes, the girl who won the auction is very beautiful. In fact, I work with her and she’s very familiar with Indiana,” I replied. Mama played with the lace tablecloth and then frowned.
“The state or
your nephew?” she asked. I laughed.
“Your grandson. She wrestled him up earlier this week when he was caught fighting,” I explained. The subject of our conversation, my nephew, shuffled into the kitchen and slid into a chair at the table. He eyed all of us and his pale skin flushed a deep pink.
“You guys talkin’ bout me?” he asked sleepily. Mama frowned and fixed his messy, red hair.
“Meemaw, quit,” he yawned. My mother smiled and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the milk. Floyd handed her a box of cereal and a bowl. Mama slid all of this in front of Indiana before she sat back down.
“One of your teachers bid on Uncle Jo and we were just tellin’ Meemaw that no one took theirs clothes off for money,” explained Floyd, which earned him a smack from Mama.
“What?!” complained Floyd. Indiana smirked as he poured cereal into his bowl.
“This baby doesn’t need to hear about naked people,” she scolded. Floyd scoffed.
“Who do ya think mowed the penis into the lawn? Who got caught watching videos on his laptop during a church retreat?” asked Floyd. Mama looked at Indiana, who simply shrugged.
“Why, baby?” she asked. Indiana finished chewing his food and looked at Mama.
“I blame the fact that I’m practically being raised by my widowed Meemaw, my two single uncles and no other female role models. My one daddy is off to war and the other is defending the unwashed masses of society,” he explained simply. Mama put her hand over her mouth as Floyd and I busted out laughing.
“Unwashed masses of society? Where’d you hear that crap?” I asked. Indiana smiled.
“Rev. and Mrs. Stoddard told me it was okay that I got caught watchin’ stepmother videos on the laptop because of those very reasons,” he explained. Floyd choked on his coffee, dribbling the liquid down his chest. He reached next to the stove and grabbed Mama’s dishcloth and wiped himself off. Mama looked to the ceiling, muttering under her breath.
“Aw come on, Meemaw. Don’t act offended. Daddy and Dad told me plenty of stories about when they were growin’ up. I know I’m not a bad seed or nothin’,” he told her. Mama stood up from the table and grabbed her phone; leaving the room.
