Page 66 of Big Britches

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Page 66 of Big Britches

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

Before they reached the steps, the front door opened, light spilling out. In it stood the silhouette of a woman. From their angle, her features were mostly hidden in shadow, but Pedro could just make out a cordial, yet mischievous smile.

“Alas,” she said, in a pleasantly deep and husky voice. “My son has arrived. It’s about damn time, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Titus said. “It’s my fault we’re late.”

“That is not what I meant. You must be Pedro.”

Pedro scaled the steps, extending the bouquet. “Mrs. Shepherd, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Don’t make me feel older than I already am. It’s Patricia. Pat, if you like.” She stepped out of the doorway and took the bouquet. “How absolutely beautiful. You grew them, didn’t you? I recognize the gardenias, but some of the hydrangea colors are new.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Patricia Shepherd raised her eyebrows, a friendly reminder.

“Sorry—Pat.”

She was taller than he’d expected, wearing a simple-but-striking tailored red dress. Her demeanor was slow, almost seductive and, in mere seconds, Pedro was taken with her. Much like his initial meeting with Titus, he found himself captivated by an effortless charm. Bouquet in hand, she extended her arms and welcomed him with a warm embrace. She smelled as good as she looked. The spicy fragrance–a hint of Cinnabar by Estee Lauder–complemented the velvety purr of her tone perfectly. “What I meant was, thank God, you’ve come along and lured my only son out of his shell. I barely see him anymore. I’m counting on you to change that, you know?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. You’ve already got him wearing decent clothing.”

Titus blushed, squirming awkwardly at the foot of the steps.

“He cleans up pretty good, doesn’t he?” Pedro asked Patricia.

“I’ll say. If there’s one thing I did well, it was birth a big handsome son.”

“I agree. He’s like a young Brando-Burton hybrid.”

Patricia chuckled softly, leaning toward Pedro with a congenial whisper. “Rock Hudson for height, and just a splash of Burt Reynolds pre-mustache.”

Titus groaned. “You two can stop anytime now.”

“Only if you give your Mama a hug, too. What have you done with my darling grandson?”

Titus climbed the steps and hugged his mother. “He’s spending the night with Roz and Shelly. Thought it might be easier for us all to talk without little ears around.”

“I’ll forgive you this once.” She turned back to Pedro. “That’s another duty of yours, by the way–more Tucker time.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Wonderful. Well, y’all come on in. I sent Amelia home early, too, for similar reasons even though, according to your father, your secret is out. She made a wonderful dinner for us. We’ve been keeping it warm.”

“What are we having?” Titus asked.

“Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, butter beans, and banana pudding.”

“Hell, yeah. I’m so hungry I could eat the north end of a southbound mule.”

Patricia’s eyes cut to Pedro.

“I’m on it,” he said.




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