“No, we’ll have two beers,” Jackson answered and looked across the table at me. “Imported or ...”
“Whatever you are having. I’m adventurous.”
“DeadBeach it is,” he said.
“Never heard of that one,” I told him once the waiter left to retrieve our drinks.
“It’s a Texas beer. My dad introduced me to it when I was twenty-one. We both pretended that it was the first one I’d ever tasted. Who bought your first legal beer?”
“I did,” I answered with a shrug. “On my twenty-first birthday, at the hotel bar. I had my real ID, but the bartender didn’t even ask for it. I was very disappointed that I didn’t get to flash it.”
The waiter brought our beer and two frosted mugs. Then a second server came over to ask if we wanted appetizers.
Jackson looked across the table at me. “I’m ordering a garden salad. Do you want something else?”
“I’ll have one, too,” I answered and handed the menu back to her. “And I want the eight-ounce filet mignon with grilled asparagus.”
“I want the fourteen-ounce New York,” Jackson told her. “And truffle mac and cheese.”
“Good choices,” she said and left with the menus.
“I’ve told you about the J’s,” Jackson said. “Now tell me about your family.”
“I already did,” I answered. “As far as I know, Frank is still alive and living in Kentucky. The closest thing I might have to kinfolk are his people.”
“Do you ever go back there for one of the holidays?”
“Absolutely not! I don’t think I would enjoy being around them any more than I did when I was forced to attend the events.”
“They sound like one of Tucker’s family reunions. He’s one of my team members who has family living up in West Virginia. I went with him to a reunion years ago. It was quite an experience, but I’ve got to admit, those folks made some delicious apple pie moonshine.”
“Was it good the next morning?” I teased.
“No, ma’am. The hangover was straight from hell.”
The waiter brought our salads and set them before us. “Your food will be out shortly. Can I get you anything else?”
“We’re good,” Jackson told her, and waited for me to take the first bite. Then he cocked his head and looked somewhere between surprised and angry. “I didn’t know ... I didn’t plan ... Please don’t be mad,” he said and stood up.
“About what?”
“Jackson, this is a wonderful surprise.” An older woman with a little bit of gray showing in her black hair hugged him tightly.
“Yes, it is.” A man near in age to her clamped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. I could see that Jackson would look like him in another thirty years.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Jackson said.
“We aren’t going to Dell City,” the man said. “We spent a couple of days in Denver looking at a new breeder bull and decided to make a stop over here in El Paso before Quinton flies us on home tomorrow.”
When they both turned toward me, I felt like crawling under the table, especially when I knew how big that Armstrong pie really was. The only way I could keep my cool was to pretend that they were rich folks at a poker table. When I was in that element, no one had ever taken away my courage.
“This is my date, Carla Wilson. She recently acquired the Tumbleweed. Carla, this is my father, James, and my mother, Julia.”
“I’m pleased to meet y’all,” I said. “Have you eaten?”
Julia gave Jackson the evil eye and answered, “No, we haven’t. We were about to be seated when James noticed y’all.”
“Then join us, please,” I said. “There’s two empty chairs, and I’m sure you would love to visit with Jackson.”
