Page 4 of Big Britches

“No need. It’s so dark out here I can hardly see,” She felt for and sank into a neighboring chair. “I finally got them down. Tucker’s a dream, but Shelly’s a handful. Whose idea was it for us to both have babies at the same time, T?”

“I’m grateful for it. And I do know about Blockbuster. Daddy’s been talking about prosperous Spoon’s latest addition nonstop.”

“So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing. Just reliving our glory days.”

Barb set her empty glass on the table for Titus to pour. “Speak for yourself. Y’all act like we’re old.”

“You don’t have kids,” Roz said.

“Or a dead wife,” Titus added.

“Did you show Barb the letter?”

“Yeah, he showed me. What are your thoughts, Roz?”

Roz took a long sip from her drink. She had flawless ebony skin that camouflaged her as she sank deeper into her chair. Her gaze went to the fireflies outside the screen. “I think whatever T does is his own business.”

“Thank you,” said Titus, capping the bottle.

“You’re only saying that because you know he wants you to say it.”

“That’s not true, Barb. You were always the big talker of the three of us. I say everything will play out in due time. Meanwhile, Titus has a son to raise. If that’s his priority, I see nothing wrong with it.”

Barb sighed, exasperated. She sipped from her drink.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Roz.”

“You mean for agreeing with you,” said Barb.

“That too, and for getting my young’un tucked away.”

“That’s why you pay me.”

“You’re much more than an employee. You know that.”

“I do.”

“James is probably wondering where you and Shelly are.”

“Nope. He’s working late. That’s why I’m out here drinking with you ne’er-do-wells!”

“Hear, hear!” Titus said, raising his glass.

Barb and Roz raised theirs. Any minor tension between them had passed quickly, as it always did.

The three of them relaxed, continuing to observe the night, comfortable in their silence. Over the trees was the soft pink glow of Spoon. Far to the right, on the opposite horizon, came the paler glow of neighboring Morehead. Both were small towns, but good places to live and grow. Titus, Barb, and Roz knew nowhere else. They were friends, had been since childhood, and like the endless star-filled sky above them, would likely remain so forever.

“I’ll be fine,” Titus said. “We’ll be fine.”

One

SUMMER 1995

The sun was already warm on Pedro Torres’s neck. It was early morning, only seven-thirty, and there was a pleasant breeze in the air. Surprising for mid-June. He welcomed its cool reprieve, knowing its promise was a false one. Pedro was well-acquainted with the Georgia climate. He recognized the polite calling card to what soon would be a weight of blistering heat and humidity by late-morning and into the afternoon.

He closed the door of his pickup truck parked in the gravel lot in front of Compton’s Greenscapes. Cooler in hand, he walked past the small office building toward a much larger building in back. They called it the barn, even though it was square and composed of steel. Compton’s Greenscapes housed their company trucks there. There were three of them, and Pedro veered toward his own.