Page 23 of Big Britches
“Good. There’re sandwiches too.”
“It’s very kind of you. But I shouldn’t impose.”
“Impose? Are you kidding me? Other than Carlos, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to outside of family in at least three weeks.”
Again, Titus’s tone was sincere. He was wearing pleated shorts with a polo shirt, and looked even more striking now fully clothed. Pedro felt guilty for thinking there may have been lecherous intent with their initial encounter. He wanted to trust Titus. There was a kindness in his eyes that felt… lonesome.
“I’m serious, P. I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble. Like I said—inside the fence is my haven. You’re safe here. I mean that.”
Pedro studied Titus’s serious expression long enough to broach awkwardness. But Titus broke the spell with a well-timed and authentic smile.
“Were you this way with Carlos, too?”
“No.” Titus shrugged. “I mean, we were friendly. I never invited him to lunch, though.”
“How come?”
“He wasn’t as cute as you.”
Six
They sat at the umbrellaed table by the pool where Roz had already placed paper plates, silverware, and linen napkins alongside a platter of ham and pimento cheese sandwiches. There were also individually bagged chips, deviled eggs, potato salad, and pickles to choose from. It wasn’t too fancy—a blend of old-school southern niceties and modern convenience. Still, it was a lot of food.
He’s a big guy, Pedro thought. Swimming laps early. He’s probably hungry.
Titus pulled a chair out for him, which was a little odd, but considering how the day had played out so far, Pedro went with it. After he sat, Titus hurried around the table, seating himself. He unfolded a napkin and tucked it into his shirt.
“Oh.” Pedro stood, quickly reaching for the t-shirt still tucked in his jeans.
“You don’t have to wear that on my account.”
“My parents would be mortified. They would never allow me to eat at a table shirtless—especially as a guest.”
Titus poured iced tea into their plastic tumblers. “Sounds like they raised a good son. Sorry about the plastic cups and paper plates, but there are kids here. Don’t want to risk breaking glass this close to the pool.”
“You have children?”
“I do. A boy. Tucker. Do you like kids, Pedro?”
“Very much. For a while, I wanted to be a teacher like my father. He taught high school.”
“Here in the States?”
“No, in Chiquilá. It’s in Mexico, by the sea.”
“Sounds beautiful,” Titus eyed dreamily.
Like you.
“It is. Politically, not so much, and there’s a lot of crime. My mother still lives there, though. Once I’m able, I would like to bring her here, to the States, as well.”
“That’s very noble. Again, you’re a good son.”
“Her life has been hard. I want her to enjoy the rest of it without worrying. I send her money for now.”
“That’s very sweet of you. And Silas Compton is assisting you with this?”
“Yes. Mr. Compton has been very good to me.”