Page 56 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

“You are so fuckin’ pretty,” he said, his country drawl getting thicker, showing the exhaustion he’d been fighting so hard to suppress since the night before. “How did I ever get one so pretty?”

“I liked your grits, that’s all.”

He leaned back in the couch and stroked her knuckles with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“Makin’ you miss work. Being a dick about it. Being a dick about everything. Having to leave right now and go play General.”

“Abi, you should really get some sleep.”

“I’d like some of your Auntie’s pecan pie, if you can spare it.”

Lorrie cut him a generous piece of the sticky pie and returned to the couch, cuddling next to him. She dug the fork into the slice, meaning to feed it to him since he looked too exhausted to move, but he surprised her by taking the plate and setting it on the center table. What he said next surprised her even more.

“You are for real the love of my life, Lorraine.”

She inhaled. “You like pecan pie that much?”

His laughter rang out like music. He stood up, drew the blinds, and sat next to her again. He squeezed her thigh with a large hand. The hair on the back of his hand and on his arms was standing up. Absalom was charged with something; a humming energy that hadn’t been there before. Something was eating at him.

“What?” she asked softly.

“You asked me why I didn’t marry you,” he said. “The truth is I’d already got you a ring. About a year ago.” He spoke to their intertwined hands, more rapidly than his usual measured speech. “I never went through with it. Too much was going on— I was a self-absorbed fool. But you were right. You’ve always been right about us.” He shook his head. “Lorrie, if you’ll have my name, my life…I’ll give you more than words. But will you take me still, after everything? Will you marry me?”

“When?” Lorrie croaked.

“In two weeks,” he said.Time enough to get the annulment, Lorrie thought.

Absalom added, “We can have a ceremony in a couple months when things settle down. However you want. Bring up your girls from Rowanville— I’ll cover it all.”

“You know I’m a simple girl.”

“You deserve the finest,” he said. “And now we won’t have to struggle. I got money. We’re set.” He shook his head. “I know it ain’t exactly romantic, but giving you my name and my assets is most important, if anything should happen to me—”

“I accept.”

He pulled back, clearly stunned she’d answered so quickly. “You do?”

“If I can live truly as your wife and your woman, with no fear and shame,” Lorrie said slowly, knowing she must speak fromthe heart in this precious, fragile moment. “If you take care of me, and if you suffer me to take care of you the way you need. If you promise never to kill another soul again, not even for my behalf, then I will have you, Abi. For always.”

“Life is too precious to waste,” he said; one of his lyrical riddling replies. “I see that now. I will always take care of you and cherish you.”

“What about killing people?”

He hesitated. “What I did at the Greasy Hog was foul. I’ll never put you through that again.”

He still hadn’t answered her question but it would have to be enough. Absalom got up and went to his bedroom. Lorrie’s heart beat swiftly. This was happening. For real.

He came back with a small jewelry box the color of wine. His face and the tops of his ears matched the shade exactly.

They stared at each other.

He said gruffly, “I should kneel—”

“Er— okay. Yeah.”

He got down awkwardly on one knee and shook out his shoulders, making Lorrie laugh in spite of her uneasy acceptance of his compromise. He took her hand. “Wait– ain’t it the other one?” he muttered.

---