Page 16 of It All Began at Dixieland

Amanda puts her arms over the other two and draws them into a supportive huddle. “No. Tell me you’re joking? Tell me you have tattoos, and you just cover them in makeup to disguise yourself in public. Tell me anything other than that we’ve been lied to. Is nothing real? Next, you’ll say Nichole Emory isn’t even her real name!” She points over our shoulders, and I dip under his armpit to see a petite blonde hippie walking toward us with a friendly grin. My attention on the newcomer, I miss whatever Foster did with his face to cause the witches to wail and fall to their knees.

Everyone in the breakfast area is watching us. Most were before, but now there isn’t a single person not glued to the scene waiting to see what happens next.

“LIES! It’s all lies!” Kim cries out, her hands stretched above her head.

“Witches. Get it together.” Mallory claps her hands like a preschool teacher.

“No. Let us live in the land of illusion just a few moments more. It’s too much.”

“Hello, I’m interrupting something,” Nichole Emory chirps happily at my side. “Brother dearest, what have you done to these poor women?”

Sarah is beside herself, “Brother!Brother?”

The rumble of Foster’s laughter is deep and hearty. “Take all the time you need, ladies. In the meantime, my girlfriend and I are gonna get some breakfast. We’re having a baby and mama’s gotta eat. When you’re ready, join us, and I’ll take all the selfies you want.”

Sarah snaps her head up, cheeks flushed. Amanda and Kim stop their caterwauling. “With your shirt off?” Foster nods while I roll my eyes. “Hop to it girls, Mama Tacy is growing a human, she needs sustenance. Chop! Chop!”

I’m forgotten as the witches help Foster through the food line, preparing plates for both of us. Nichole loops her arm through mine and steers me to their table. “Tacy Ellen, yourTeats Out MCseries is a revelation!” My knees nearly buckle at her words. I will never get used to other authors reading, let alone enjoying, my work.

“Blevins. Efa Blevins.” I drop my chin to my chest and sigh. I did it again. Nichole laughs, leaning into me.

She whispers conspiratorially, “Nichols. Emery Nichols.” She pins me with a hard stare, “Tell me you didn’t leave my brother behind on purpose.”

“I had to shit!” I screech. When I glance around the area, all eyes are on me. I wave, face bright red, then bow with a flourish.

“And there are like no doors on those bathrooms!”

“Exactly!” I hug her as hard as I can. Thankful to meet someone who understands. “We’d just met! He didn’t need to hear what my body is capable of!”

“Are you talking about the bathrooms again?” Foster kisses my temple, an indulgent smile stretching his lips.

“No doors! No locks! No fan!”

Amanda pats my shoulder as she places a plate heaped with food in front of me. “Babes, ain’t no bathroom doors or locks or fans in a delivery room to hide the shit you push out along with your kid.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. When I meet Foster’s terrified stare, I notice he is quite pale as well. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. I lick my parched lips and reach out a shaky hand. He takes it in his and we squeeze each other to the point of pain, clinging to any available lifeline.

“C-section,” we say in unison.

Nichole, aka Emery, chuckles humorlessly, “You can’t just decide you’re having a C-section.”

“We can. We did. It’s happening.”

“Wanna bet, Nostrawrongus?”

Efa 16.

“Efa Jo, I’m not sure how I feel about you ditching your best friend and assistant, forcing her to drive back alone with all of your book things.” Foster snorts, unable to hide his amusement at my mother’s admonishment.

“Mom. It takes two hours to get home from Lexington. She won’t even have to stop for gas.”

“You know she has the bladder of a gnat. She’ll have to park and enter the gas station alone…in the dark.”

“It’s not even noon. And do gnat’s have bladders?”

“I’m not an entomologist, Efa Jo. How should I know?”

“Mom.” I’m exasperated, and my tone conveys that perfectly. A little too perfectly, given my mother’s dramatic tsking.

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