Page 7 of Take Me with You

Glo dug for her cell phone that was buried under a pile of papers she’d brought in for me to sign. She held her phone toward me so I could see a screensaver picture of a hunky construction guy displayed on the screen.

“Holy . . .” I began. Whoever he was, he was a bonafide hunk.

“I know, right? He’s my date for dinner tomorrow,” she said. “Dave is his name. It’s not David or some fancy historical rendition of David. He simply goes by Dave.”

“Is that his work gear?” I asked, staring at a stud who’s biceps were busting out of a tight T-shirt under an opened, bright-orange vest.

“He lives in Andrews and works road construction; he’s helping to expand that new highway,” she cooed, barely hiding her drool. I was about to ask her if he was from the good part of Andrews, but Andrews didn’t have a good part. “He owns a double-wide on two acres,” she added.

We knew it wasn’t cultured to act snotty but we did like to gossip and carry on. Gloria had always thumbed her nose at tradition even if she did cave and go to the right college. She was smart enough to know her education wouldn’t have been paid for otherwise. But things like family names and keeping your airs about yourself didn’t meet her idea of fun.

“No way,” I faux gasped. “A double-wide?”

“Momma and Daddy are going to shit when I show up with him.”

“You naughty little girl,” I teased. “Are you actually trying to get disowned?”

“That might happen if I can’t keep him from under my skirt. The boy knows how to fuck, Hayes. Like really fuck,” she said. “I swear he might be a keeper.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Can you imagine the wagging tongues when folks see us together?” she asked. “Gloria Rawlins on the arm of a laborer?” I snorted a laugh at her mannerisms as she acted out the high-society women of the south. She continued her imitation. “That’stheGloria Rawlins, daughter of Miss South Carolina 1997, Miss Trinity Beauchamp.” She relaxed her pinched lips and checked her empty ring finger for effect. Her momma had actually been Miss South Carolina and placed fifteenth at The Miss America pageant.

“You’re crazy, girl. Your daddy will kill him on sight.”

“Or at a minimum offer Dave a ton of cash to disappear,” she joked.

“There’s the gator filled canals if that doesn’t work,” I said.

We joked about our family’s ways but there was also some truth to it. Orin Watters, her ex, was from a prominent political family filled with gifted offspring, and according to Gloria’s father, he hadfutureSenator Watters written all over his handsome and well-connected face.

“What about Phillip? Will he be gracing us with his presence?” she asked.

“Are you kidding me? He wouldn’t miss a chance to suck up to Daddy’s guest list. A veritable who’s who of bank accounts is right up his alley,” I said. “Problem is I’ll miss most of his schmoozing when I’m safely ensconced at a minimum of a hundred feet away at all times.”

“Still?” she asked, sympathizing with me like always. “Hayes, honey, I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s getting old, Glo,” I confessed, my eyes welling up. “I’m not sure I can do this for much longer.”

“No chance he’ll agree to come out to his folks?”

“Not one,” I admitted. “I feel like a fraud lately. Heck, Momma doesn’t even believe we’re a couple. And Daddy likes the arrangement just fine so he can pretend I’m not gay.” I reached for her phone, tapped the screen and then stared at construction Dave. “Does Dave have a buddy?”

“You wouldn’t,” she stated. I didn’t say a word. “Hayes? You wouldn’t, right?”

“I wouldn’t cheat if that’s what you’re asking me.”

My eyes let go of the pain and Glo quickly slid a Kleenex across my desk. Hiding what I’d always considered a successful coupling hurt like crazy. Phillip refused to understand what I truly desired for our relationship, so I felt trapped in an arrangement that was headed nowhere. I wanted to share our life with friends and family, not hide it.

“That bad?” she asked, reaching for and holding my hand. “Can you make it work though?”

I placed my hands over my eyes and shook my head.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Bo

My buoys were bright pink and had my name and fishing license number written on them. They were easy to spot because of the color and the fact that I’d placed them in a half-mile wide circle made checking them simple. I had new cans of cat food with me that needed to be placed inside the traps, so today would take a little longer than normal. Because of that, if my traps held enough lobsters, I wouldn’t bother fishing, so I had time to sell my catch in town.

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