Eve puts a cup in front of me and I take a sip without asking any questions, smiling as my loyalty is rewarded with more sugar. Three glasses into this Southern sweet tea experience and I can already feel the addiction forming.
Why do I never get this? It must be on menus but I always order something else.
“If you can tear yourself away from the sweet tea, the chicken’s pretty good as well.”
Busted by Beau. Defiantly, I take another sip while looking Beau dead in the eyes. Point made, I open the box to see golden fried chicken strips, a thick piece of toast, fries, and some pink sauce.
I dig in and give the South this without reservation, trying not to moan in front of his people. This is delicious.
Bubba, sensing the newest person might be the weakest, sits next to me and rests his giant head on my lap again. This must be a thing with him, resting his head because it’s too tiring to hold the weight up himself.
He’s adorable, but I have no idea if he’s allowed people food so he’s out of luck. But then I see his face again and slip him some of the chicken without the breading. He’s just so cute.
“This didn’t exist when I first came to the South, but I did get fed another version of fried chicken and sweet tea.” Eve smiles as she takes a bite of the chicken, looking like she’s remembering another meal. One that must have ended well.
“Beau said you were from New York. Where did you move from?” I ask.
“From your neck of the woods... Manhattan. This was supposed to be a short visit. That hasn’t really ended yet.” The look she sends her partner is intimate, speaking to a long history together.
“A carpetbagger! Where did you live? I’m in SoHo.”
“I was your neighbor in the Village.”
“Hey, nice to meet you eight hundred miles and a few years from home! What brought you down here?”
“This one.” She points a chicken finger at Reed like she was born doing it, despite what she just told me. “Met him on a girls’ trip to Charleston the same weekend he was in the city for some fruit conference.”
“And then he dragged you to the farm, hollerin’ and carryin’ on,” Beau interrupts.
“He’s lucky his job was less mobile than mine. And trust me; I looked into the logistics of moving an entire farm to Manhattan.”
“Ha! She chased after me for my peaches.” Reed tries to set the record straight, and without laughing, amazingly. Because he has to be making a pun. Right?
“Please stop now,” Beau whimpers. See, his mind went there.
I laugh at the parental embarrassment happening in front of me. I’m a little jealous though, deep down inside. When I’m around my parents, it’s so formal. A side effect of only seeing them once a year. I have a more comfortable, joking relationship with Chachi and Chacha.
And older Indian parents, at least the ones I know, don’t joke about each other’s...peaches. At least not in front of the children. The biggest affectionate quirk they have is calling each other “dear” while arguing. Unlike Priya and Gavin. Chachi’s head practically exploded the first time she saw Priya kiss Gavin—and it was just a peck.
This is interesting.
“Well, I’m glad Beau brought you home. Because you seem lovely, but also we need more city defenders around here.” Eve turns her attention back to me.
“Oh. Thank you,” I say reflexively. But what does that mean? Does she think me and Beau are a thing? I mean, clearly, we’re a bit of a thing; I’m here. But we’re not athingthing. And now I need to stop thinking the wordthing. I’ve thought it so many times, it’s stopped being a real word to me.
“Mom, you’re scaring our guest.” Gentleman Beau rushes to my rescue.
“She’s from New York. In the last week she’s probably seen a New Yorker assault a tourist who walked too slowly on the sidewalk, someone cutting their toenails on the subway, and Santa on Santa fornication during SantaCon. She can handle the sticks.”
Ah, SantaCon. It was fun the first time. Then the drunk, sweaty Santas trying to aggressively hit on us got old.
“I can handle all that. But the silence and stillness of the country might defeat me.” I couldn’t even last a half hour waiting for the food in that rocker.
Seriously, so bored.
“I made them install the fastest and most reliable Wi-Fi so at least we can always stream to break up the silence,” Eve says.
Oh, thank god there’s good Wi-Fi. I wanted to ask Beau more about the internet situation, but I couldn’t figure out a way to not make it sound like I was insulting his home again.
