feel any less guilty.
Pearl had been at the mansion since I was a baby, hired to clean
and cook and take care of me, mostly the latter as it turned out.
24 Rob Rosen
Meaning, she was owed more than just my weak apology.
Finished with our meals, I excused myself and went to my
room, belly so full it felt ready to burst. I got out of my clothes
and slipped into my pajamas, then hopped into bed, the list
again folded opened and on my lap. With the news of Granny’s
passing, I hadn’t given much thought to the people that worked
for her, for the mansion itself, to the will and all it entailed. I
was a Jackson, like Granny was, but that’s where the similarities
ended. For better or worse, Granny made me into a Yankee. Odd
but true. And a gay Yankee at that. What did that mean for all
our futures? Or had Granny taken care of that as well? Guess,
I’d have to wait and see. No use putting the cart in front of the
horse just yet.
And speaking of horses, their handler was sneaking into my
room at that very moment, a smile on his face, a plate in his hand.
“Pearl left me a snack,” he said, by way of greeting, gently
closing the door behind him.
I folded the paper and sat up, spotting the biscuits he was
holding out for me. “Pearl’s snacks can make a grown man weep,”
I whispered, making room on the bed for him.
He hopped in, snuggling next to me, good and tight. “Thank
goodness I ain’t no grown man just yet, then. Shame to get these
biscuits all wet.” He grabbed one and set to work. Reluctantly, so
did I. Well, maybe not reluctantly. After all, I wasn’t full grown
just yet, either. And there was always room for one of Pearl’s
biscuits.
I put my arm around him and he slid into my crook, head on
my shoulder, both of us contentedly chewing away. “You going
to the funeral tomorrow, Zeb?” I asked, hopefully.
He laughed, despite the direness of the question. “Your granny
would haunt me until the day I die if I didn’t, Trip. Woman was
vengeful in life; in death, Lord only knows what she’d be like.”
I nodded and laughed right along with him, setting the plate
on the nightstand. “Yep,” I said, sinking into my down pillow as
he rolled over, his hand on my chest, body soft and warm against
southeRn FRied 25
mine. “You have a point.”
His hand moved south, landing playfully on my crotch. “So
do you, Trip. So do you.”
ChAPteR 2
Sweet Iced Tea
The next morning I woke in my old bed, not feeling anything
like the randy teenager I used to be. Well, a teenager at any rate;
the randy part was taken care of those several times the day
before. Sadly, however, my caretaker was already up and gone.
Seems like the horses needed Zeb more than I did. Only, the
horses didn’t have to bury anybody that day. In other words,
I may not have needed my flanks brushed, but my own needs
weren’t any less pressing.
Fine, fine, so I’m being a bit overdramatic. But, I mean, I
wasn’t yet thirty and had no mom, no dad, no family. Granted, by
all accounts, I had a mansion and a bunch of servants, but, uh,
but… okay, I see your point; hard to feel sorry for a guy with a
mansion and bunch of servants. I get it. But, truthfully, it didn’t
make me feel any better. Not a lick. I stared up at the ceiling and
shook my fist at Granny. “Not a lick!” I shouted. Then I shook
my fist at the floor, too, because the odds seemed so much better
that way. “Not a lick!” I shouted again.
“Boy, who you talking to?” Pearl asked, kicking open the door
with her foot while holding a tray overflowing with breakfast, a
pot of piping hot coffee, a yellow flower in a porcelain vase.
Again I stared at the ceiling, smelling the wonderful aroma
coming off the tray. Well, maybe just a little lick, but from a small
tongue . Then I looked at Pearl. “Morning, Pearl. And nobody in
particular, to answer your question.”
She tsk ed me and set the tray down. “City done made