Page 12 of Dear Southern Belle
“Well it was nice—” I look down at my watch. “Five minutes while it lasted.”
“I’ll be willing to overlook your terrible taste in jelly if you can overlook the fact that I also like honey and bananas on my peanut butter sandwiches.”
“I’ll see your honey and bananas and raise you my peanut butter and pickle sandwich.”
“What?”
I shrug. I’m used to this reaction from people. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Dill or sweet?”
“Dill,” I answer, but then pause. “Although I’ve never tried sweet. That could be interesting.”
“This is by far the most interesting turn of conversation that I’ve ever had a first date,” Braden says as he unpacks the basket filled with a container of fried chicken, pasta salad, and chopped up fruit. “So, what are your thoughts on grilled cheese toppings?”
“I’m glad you asked.” I laugh, already feeling more comfortable with Braden in the ten minutes we’ve been talking than I ever have with anyone else I’ve dated for a couple weeks.
My phone buzzes in the pocket of my dress. I’d bet all the money in my bank account that it’s Momma again. But I don’t answer it. I don’t want anything to ruin tonight for me and Braden.
BRADEN
Besides talking about our love of obscure and traditional toppings on grilled cheese—mustard and green apple slices for Magnolia and crispy bacon for me—we talk about so much more.
I tell her about my parents and how I was called down here to Oak View under false pretenses.
“Were you upset?” she asks.
“Actually no. Martha is just someone who you can easily forgive because it’s clear her heart was in the right place. She hated that my grandfather had no one in his life besides her. When she finally got the story out of him, she knew that she was going to have to try and mend the rift between him and my mother.”
“Why didn’t she try to get her to come with you?”
“She told me that she wanted to start of slow. She figured that if she could get us close, then it would only be a matter of time before my mother and him would want to bury whatever happened between them.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I think that he didn’t think my father was good enough for his daughter.”
“That’s sad.”
“At the time, I can see why he thought that. My father has admitted to me that he was aimless at that age. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, and my grandfather didn’t want him to pull down my driven mother. But what he didn’t know was that with my mother in his life, he found his purpose and made someone of himself.”
“And they lived happily ever after,” I add.
He smiles. “You could say that. Their love is as close to a fairytale in real life if there ever was one.”
“That must be nice,” she says, picking a piece off the chicken leg in her hand. “To have a front row view to a great love story.”
“It does give me hope that a great love is possible, but it’s also discouraging because it’s hard to live up to.”
“You just need to find the right person.”
I think I have.
“One day I hope.” I smile at her. “Tell me about your parents.”
“They aren’t nearly as exciting as your parents. My mother is a nurse at the local hospital and my father ran off when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry Magnolia.”
She shrugs like she is pretending it’s no big deal, but I still see the hurt in her eyes. I shift closer to her and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens for a moment before sinking against me. I don’t say a word. There isn’t anything I can say to make what happened better for her. All I can do is hold her in my arms and hope that it’s enough. If I could take the pain for her, I would.
We both sit like this for I don’t know how long, but the sun dips below the horizon and the stars start to shine brightly in the sky. Living in the city, a view like this would be impossible, but I’m starting to see that tonight is a night filled with possibilities.
