Page 7 of Letters Book Two
I needed to reread Momma’s letter. I went to the small metal box whenever I needed to read her wise words and her loving message.I miss you, Momma.I opened the box and reached for her letter, only to find myself grabbing the letter from the state instead. I stared at the seal of The State of South Carolina. Official looking for sure. I slid the letter out and unfolded it. Another big, embossed state seal and a bunch of vital information held my eyes. Father: Lachen Tilton. There was the proof that I was not a Jenson. I was in fact, a Tilton.
Tilton. That name had value in this state. A boy from the wrong side of the tracks was an actual Tilton. Raised in a single-wide by what others calledwhite trash.Raised by a father that is a drunk and a mother that got left behind with a baby because she wasn’t good enough to marry into that family. Lachen married Doreen instead. Her blood was cleaner than Momma’s. Doreen spilled the beans about Lachen’s true relationship to me at the Frosty Freeze, that was for sure. She done opened the entire can and dumped the mess right on the town of Beaufort. She was a bitch, through and through, but she was also a timely one. She may have saved me years of not knowing. Her little exposé freed me. Maybe it was time for me to shake shit up just a bit more.
I buttered my toast and grabbed a small bottle of OJ before heading down for my shift. Mr. Howard was busy in the garage, so I busied myself restocking soda and beer. The weekly shipment was stacked outside the front door and that was my task.
“I did that job for decades before you arrived, son. I’m tired of it. How about we promote you to merchandiser too? No raise or anything, but it’ll look good on your resumé”. Mr. Howard rewarded me with the new task about a week after I went to work for him. I’ve been here for nearly five months already and I liked it. Hell, I was still thinking of buying the place.
I heard the strip by the pumpsding, so I headed out for my first customer of the day. I hoped they were good tippers. I had money in the bank, but I was still fixated on surviving with just the bare minimum.Was that it?Did a life with Perry mean I’d never want for anything again? Was that my fear? Lose my edge, lose my work ethic... lose my independence?
I needed to tamp that thought down because what had just pulled in was potentially a much bigger problem. Miss Lottie Parsons sat in lane two.Little Miss Radar Earshad blessed us with her arrival. I came around her car as she rolled the window down and rested her freshly painted fingernails on the edge where her window had just disappeared. She had added sweaters to her wardrobe. Another sure sign that fall was around the corner.Yuk!
“Hello, Miss Lottie. Fill up today, ma’am?” I watched as she scanned my presence, making sure of any unspoken cues she didn’t want to miss.
“Yes, Lucas. Be a dear and check the oil too.” It appeared that she had no interest in digging dirt today.
“Right away, ma’am.” I placed the nozzle in her car’s gas receptacle and then headed to the front to pop the hood. She checked her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror. Looked like I’d lucked out today. I verified she was down a quart and headed to the garage to grab a can. By the time I got back, she was outside of and leaning against her car. “Everything ok, ma’am?”
“Well, actually, Lucas.”I should have fucking known better. “I heard a bit of tasteless news and I’m concerned how it might affect you, son.”Isn’t that sweet of you?
“It’s alright, ma’am. People are always talking about something. Today it’s me. Maybe it’s you tomorrow?” I pierced the oil can and started pouring the oil in. “I’d rather avoid idle gossip. I’ve been told it’s the devil’s work.” I decided to hit her square in her bible-thumping eyes with that comment.
“This isn’t idle gossip, Lucas. I have actually been informed directly from the source.”
“I see, ma’am. And who might that be?”So much for avoiding her shit today.
“A friend of your classmate’s friend that works over at the bank.” She uncrossed her arms and drug her thumb and middle finger along the corners of her mouth.
“No disrespect, ma’am, but that certainly sounds reliable.” This was not something I wanted Miss Lottie to know. I may as well place a full-page ad in our small-town newspaper, now that she was on the scent trail.
“After I heard the scuttlebutt about Doreen Tilton’s little meltdown at the Frosty Freeze, I wasn’t quite sure about the news. But combined with this recent disclosure from your classmate, I think it has merit.”
“Are you here for confirmation, ma’am?” I knew not to piss her off. An angry Miss Lottie was a very dangerous Miss Lottie. Better to keep things civil.
“Just curious if you did in fact mumble the words, ‘Lachen Tilton is my daddy,’ while in the bank vault?” The snake was coiled and ready to strike. “It appears that you were more than just a bitunder the weather,as you’d said the other day when I’d asked about it. I guess I’m just confused, Lucas.” Her poor attempt atactingconfused was weak at best.
“Iwasill that day, ma’am.” That wasn’t a lie. I had actually puked at the discovery of Lachen being my real father. “Mrs. Howard came to assist me and took good care of me. Like I told her, I don’t really remember anything more than that.” I topped off the gas, doing my best to get her the fuck outta my hair.
“Not the story I’m hearing, son. You still want to stick to yours?” She recrossed her arms and stood silent as I stuck her credit card in the pump. I waited and then tore off the receipt and turned to her.
“You still going to the Baptist church over on Holden, ma’am?”
She eyed me suspiciously. “Yes, of course I am. You know that.”
I moved my eyes to hers. “I haven’t been since Momma died, ma’am. I miss Momma too much to deal with the reminders I get when I am in the house of the Lord. Momma so loved the Lord, ma’am. I reckon you knew that?”
“Your point, Lucas.” I was getting dizzy watching her cross and then uncross her arms.
“It’s nothing much, ma’am. I was just thinking about the sermon Pastor Harris shared one Sunday just before Momma passed. The one about trying to avoid doing the devil’s work for him. I believe you were sitting by Momma and me that day. You wore a beautiful blue dress with that pretty white sweater Momma complimented you on. Do you recall that sermon, ma’am?”
“I most certainly do, young man.”
“Good.” I handed her the receipt. “Have a nice day, Miss Lottie.”
CHAPTER NINE: Perry
“Holy shit,Mr. Jackson! My father was right, youareloaded,” Chad teased, bringing his hand to cover his mouth in faux shock. My Hamptons house appeared in the distance as I pulled into the long driveway. The house was still at least four football fields length down the drive but was massive even from this distance.
“Quit calling me Mr. Jackson, punk!”
