Page 8 of Big Britches
“Certainly.”
Pedro heard the muffled rustling of someone moving about while covering the telephone receiver. Two whole minutes passed before the voice returned.
“OK. Sorry for the wait,” the woman said. A buzzing sound began and the electronic gates slowly opened. “When the driveway splits, go right. That’ll take you to another gate—no code necessary, just hit the button—and the backyard pool and guest house. Park there. Mr. Shepherd will meet you to discuss things… so he says.”
That last part sounded sassy and informal, her tone suggesting she was jesting with a nearby Mr. Shepherd. It made Pedro smile.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll do that.”
“And, Pedro, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Roz.”
Two
7 a.m.
Titus was scrambling some eggs at the stove when he heard the back door open.
“You’re early.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. I’m not completely helpless, you know?”
Roz entered the kitchen, placing her purse and car keys on the table. “That’s debatable,” she said.
“Well, y’all are just in time for breakfast.”
“Just coffee for me. The little one is still half asleep.”
Titus reached into a cabinet and grabbed a mug for her. Roz accepted it, and when she went for the pot, Titus saw Shelly had been standing behind her, eyes droopy.
“Hey, sugar-pop,” he said. “Tucker’s still in bed if you want to join him.”
She nodded with glazed eyes, moving toward the hall sluggishly.
Roz took her cup to the table and sat down. Titus spooned some eggs on a plate and joined her.
“You know, most folks put a shirt on before making breakfast.”
Titus shrugged lazily. “In all fairness, I wasn’t expecting you until eight. Another fight?”
“Disagreement would probably be a more apt description.”
“The guest house is yours if you want it. Rent free. Just leave his sorry ass and come live with us. You practically do already.”
“He’s not sorry, T. He just sees things a little differently.”
Titus reached for the salt and pepper. He held them up single-handedly in front of her. “This is how he sees things.”
“He doesn’t have a problem with you being white. He has a problem with you being gay.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have told him,” Titus said. He dusted his eggs with the seasonings before returning them to their caddy.
“If I hadn’t, he would have thought we were shacking up a long time ago.”
Titus looked at her, eyebrows raised. A slow grin crept up his cheeks.
Roz mirrored the expression with a chuckle. “I know. It’s ridiculous. But no one ever sees you, T. You know how people in this town talk.”