IWAS MUCH LATERarriving at Noah’s house than I had intended and I suspected that Noah would think I was deliberately avoiding him. Again. He told me he didn’t mind me being around the job site and I took him at his word. It was possible that Noah changed in many ways other than his height and muscle tone, but I was willing to bet he never lost his earnest, straightforward nature. I had a legitimate emergency that morning that needed my immediate attention.
I opened my door to leave my apartment and found Roxie standing on the landing with her fist raised in the air as if she was about to knock. She was soaked to the bone with her clothes clinging to her body, hair plastered to her face, and mascara streaking down her face. The skies were bright blue with large fluffy, white clouds so her condition had nothing to do with the weather.
“What’s up, Rox?”
“I decided to go for a swim in the pool, fully dressedandafter I spent forty minutes doing my hair and makeup.” We didn’t have a pool so I just blinked at her until she gave me a straight answer. “Pipe burst under the kitchen sink. The water has been turned off, but can you fix it before you leave so Betty Jean can have running water? She has kids coming over for lessons at noon.” Betty Jean gave art lessons from their home during the summer months. She hated that art was being removed as part of the curriculum in elementary schools.
“Sure, let me grab a few things.” Roxie headed back to her house and I got what I needed from the garage to replace the broken pipe. I kept all sorts of odds and ends handy, because you never knew when you’d need them.
I hated plumbing and I would normally have one of the plumbers on my crew fix it, but this was for Roxie and Betty Jean. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for them. I had shown up on their doorstep my first day back in Beaufort looking to rent the apartment over their garage. I knew I must’ve looked rough and unkempt from my long drive, but it didn’t seem to faze them.
“If I was thirty years younger and in to dick then I’d be all over you.” Those were the first words Roxie ever spoke to me. I stood there stunned speechless until she threw her head back and laughed. “You look exhausted, honey.” She grabbed a set of keys and told me to follow her, which I did without question. She showed me to the moderately furnished, loft-style apartment. “It’s not much, but…”
“It’s perfect.” It was exactly what I needed – clean, furnished, and cheap. I had a good sized chunk of money saved up to start my business, but I wanted personal living costs to be as cheap as I could get them.
“Why don’t you lie down and get some rest and then come on over for dinner with me and my wife. Betty Jean makes the best fried chicken in the world.” My mouth watered at the thought, because the last thing I’d eaten was a Snickers bar the day before out of stubbornness, and the desire to get to my destination, rather than not being able to afford a meal.
That evening, I sat in their kitchen and told them about my hopes and dreams of the kind of construction company I wanted to start in Beaufort. They listened intently and asked what kind of experience I had. I retrieved my portfolio from my suitcase and practically held my breath while they looked through some of the jobs I had completed in Atlanta.
“These are beautiful,” Betty Jean said. She was the quieter of the two. Roxie was a curvy, vivacious redhead who reminded me of the pinup models from the 60s. She was larger than life with a personality to match. Betty Jean was equally as beautiful, but in a quiet, subtle way. “Do you have references too?”
“I do for all of these jobs and many more,” I said proudly. It had taken me a very long time to feel proud of myself, but I was finally there and ready to move on with my life. What better place than the scene of the only happy times I’d had in my life.
The women not only took an interest in my professional work, but also my personal life. They were more motherly to me than my biological mother, who I hadn’t seen since I left home at eighteen. They did more than introduce me to the most skilled tradesmen in the area, they became my family. No longer did I feel alone, because I had Roxie and Betty Jean.
Once my business picked up, Roxie began managing my office for me – first out of her home and then from an office I leased when I felt we both needed to separate our business from our homes. For the first time in too many years to count, I was truly happy.
“I’m so glad you hadn’t left yet,” Betty Jean said as I entered the kitchen. She wasn’t quite as wet as Roxie, but it was pretty close. “Roxie might be a little late to the office. You know she won’t go out into public without her full battle paint on, let alone looking like a drowned rat.” I bit down the laugh that bubbled up, knowing Roxie would probably hear me and punish me for it later.
“Even if I had left, I would’ve come right back.” Betty Jean patted me on the shoulder in appreciation of my answer.
I looked under the kitchen sink to assess the damage to the cabinet beneath it and noticed that the pieces of pipe I had on hand wouldn’t work. I shut off water to that faucet, but turned the main valve back on so she could still have class. I set up a fan to help dry the cabinet while I was gone. What I thought would be a quick trip to the local hardware store ended up being a ride to a bigger city, because the plumbing pieces I needed were harder to find, which wasn’t uncommon with older homes.
It was the middle of the afternoon before I had the plumbing replaced and water fully restored to the home. To thank me, Betty Jean told me she was going to fry me up a batch of her famous fried chicken and make all the fixings to go with it. I had never tasted chicken better than hers and would gladly accept her gesture of thanks. A sudden thought occurred to me, a peace offering if you will.
“Can I get enough for two and get that to go?”
That was how I ended up standing on Noah’s front porch with a picnic basket that was adorned with frilly fucking lace and weighed like it held enough to feed an army. My knock was greeted by several loud, rowdy barks from Madge. Noah came to the door a few minutes later looking stressed. I immediately wanted to ask him what was wrong so I could fix whatever made his lips pinch tightly together and frown lines appear on his forehead. It seemed that I hadn’t lost my protective streak when it came to Noah.
“I brought dinner. Fried chicken and all the fixings.” I held up the ridiculous looking basket, but he didn’t seem to notice its appearance, because his eyes glazed over when I mentioned what was inside.
“I could kiss you.” His eyes widened when he realized what he had said. It was an offhand remark that didn’t really mean he wanted to kiss me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t play along.
“I could let you.” My reply seemed to confuse him and the brightness I had just seen in his eyes dimmed. It was my turn to be confused and wonder if I should’ve just ignored his innocent comment. I began to think that I had made a big mistake by assuming he’d be willing to eat with me. I held out the basket for him to take. “Just make sure Betty Jean gets her dishes back,” I told him, trying to hide my disappointment.
Noah took the basket from me and looked surprised by the heft of it. “You’re not going to eat with me?”
“Sure, if you want.” God, we sounded like awkward teenagers instead of thirty-eight-year-old men. I cleared my throat. “I didn’t want to presume anything.”
“Get your ass in here, Mav. I’m starved to fucking death.” He turned away from the door with the basket in hand. Madge and I followed closely behind him and the delicious smelling food. “I should’ve gone to the grocery store, but I’ve spent all afternoon trying to figure out how I’m going to juggle the repairs and my work.”
The part of me that had been missing him for so long wanted him to stay and forget about his work – whatever it entailed. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but didn’t feel like I had the right after so much time had passed. I pretty much let him know my past was off limits so I very well couldn’t expect him to be an open book for me.
Noah gestured for me to have a seat while he unpacked the basket. We were both overwhelmed by the numerous containers of food spread out on his table. The biggest surprise was the bottle of red wine he pulled out. It was obvious to me that Betty Jean was subtly trying to be a matchmaker. If Roxie had packed the basket I was certain it would’ve had condoms, lubes, and a CD featuring “mood music” and less food. Noah looked at the bottle of wine and then me with a raised brow. I just shrugged. It was a good thing I wasn’t prone to blush or else I’d have been red as a beet.
“Well, we shouldn’t let it go to waste.” He said casually before he retrieved plates, wineglasses, and silverware. “What kind of pie is that?” His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and it was obvious he still had a sweet tooth.
“Knowing Betty Jean, it’s going to be either banana cream or peanut butter. Either way, we are the luckiest bastards in Beaufort tonight.” I pulled the foil off to reveal a heaping mound of meringue. I dipped my finger beneath the meringue into the creamy pie filling and then sucked my finger into my mouth. I was certain I heard Noah whimper and for a few seconds I allowed myself to believe he was excited over seeing me lick the pie cream off of my finger, and not the pie itself. “Banana cream,” I announced.
