Southern Seduction (62 page)

Whatever transpired a year before mom’s death drove a major wedge between her and Uncle Ollie. I turned away from the box and pulled out a loaf of bread from the bread box. I went to grab lunchmeat and condiments from the fridge but the door wouldn’t budge.
After a second turned into a full minute of wrestling with the refrigerator door and it not opening, I tried slapping it. When that didn’t work I resorted to kicking it.

Stupid refrigerator. Stupid motorhome. Stupid winding highway. Stupid brown box. Stupid dying wishes.

After another minute of kicking I was spent and slumped down onto the five by six square of linoleum and started crying. I hated everyone and everything. I pulled my knees to my chest. I stared at the blue diamond pattern on the floor tracing it with my finger. Damn erratic ghosts.

“Maddie, you all right back there?”

“I’m fine, just taking off my shoes.”

“Well, I found my Snickers bag, so forget about a sandwich.”

I peeked up over my knees and sure enough Gram was watching me from over her shoulder. Gram had pulled off onto the shoulder and put on the brakes. “Why don’t you try taking a nap, need to be in top shape to see your daddy and brother.”

I didn’t bother with a response. I knew a Gram knock-it-off when I heard one. I got up and plodded to the back bedroom and made sure to slam the door for good measure before slumping down onto the bed.

“If you wanted to make an appearance right now, mom, I wouldn’t mind it.”

Of course mom didn’t show up. As I expected. The dead were about as dependable as telling time with chewing gum. It could be weeks, months, before my mom showed up again, if she showed up. The RV started moving again filling the small bedroom with a swishing hum that lulled me to sleep.

Bang!

I squinted an eye open, saw nothing, closed it again.

Bang! Bang!

I bolted up. What the hell? I didn't hear the humming of tires on asphalt anymore. We’d stopped.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The banging was going down the length of the motorhome. What was going on? I crawled out of the bed and opened the bedroom door following the banging sound to the motorhome’s main door. Gram was gone and the curtains were pulled closed across the front and side windows of the driver seat.

Leave it to Gram to park somewhere and not bother to wake me. Yes, I was in a funk for most of this trip and maybe overly moody, but Gram insisted I come along so she only had herself to blame.

Gram should have flown, like I suggested, without me. Then she would have had a drama-free flight. I was perfectly content staying alone at my condo in Palo Alto with Donovan. Spending the entire summer at the beach or in my dark room. I wouldn’t even have to get out of my bathing suit all summer.

Driving halfway across the country to Dallas, Texas was
not
how I had planned or wanted to spend the summer. Sweating my ass off under a Texas sun while feeling the air stick to me sounded awful. And of course there wasn’t a beach or a Donovan here. Sweet, sexy Donovan. He was Tanya’s roommate and the boy I wished to be my boyfriend. Of course, without me there cock-blocking, who knew how many girls panties those loose-fitting khakis were getting into.
I didn’t have any desire to see my father and I definitely did not want to deliver that stupid box to Uncle Ollie.

Bang! Bang!

Mother fuck
— “Who is it?” I said in the most stern sounding voice I had.

No answer, more knocking.

Dammit!

I flung open the door, “What the fuck do you want?”

“Is that how we greet family now?”
“Brayden?” I slammed the door to the motorhome behind me and hurried down the three steps to grassy ground.

“Gram wasn’t kidding about the chip on your shoulder.”

“If you were napping and then violently awoken by gunshots you’d be a bit cranky too.”

“Gunshots?” Brayden started laughing. “Have you been to the gun show?” He flexed his left bicep then his right, “Bam, bam.”

“Oh. My. God. You’re such a hick, flirting with your own sister. Shit, you’re in Texas, not Mississippi.”

Brayden laughed. “Can I help it if everything’s bigger in Texas, including libidos?”

I scrunched up my nose and shook my head, “That’s disgusting. How can you talk like that in front of mom?”

Brayden choked on his laughter, “What?” He looked all around him, “Is she here right now? Like next to me?”He stared over his right shoulder, his eyes scanning expecting to see her too. Unlike me, Brayden didn’t have the sixth sense but he never questioned mine. He believed me one-hundred percent which made him easy pickings at times. He was my older brother who could do no wrong. I, on the other hand, was always in trouble, seemed I could do no right. So I tended to pay golden boy back in ghost dollars.

“No,” I said moving past him, “but she could be.”

“That ain’t funny Matilda.”

I stopped, “What did you just call me?”

He shrugged, “Don’t matter.”

I shook my head and continued up the pebbled path that lead to Villa de Scott. “I swear if you start making your t’s sound like d’s and calling me partner I will punch you.”

Brayden patted the top of my head, “Won’t do you no good, I’m bigger and faster than you.”

We fell into silence as we walked. Villa de Scott was my father’s estate he purchased back in ’94 after his four man construction company struck black gold. Claude Scott, my dad, originally planned on building a modest home big enough to raise a happy family of four. While digging a well he hit pay dirt. Decided to scrap the modest house idea in favor of an oil rig and thus C&S Oil was born.

Mom always said that was the beginning of the end for our foursome. Six years after my dad struck it rich, my parents were separated; mom moved back to Palo Alto, dad stayed in Texas. Mom claimed dad valued money over affection and spent her away, as she put it. By the time I was seven, mom and dad were divorced and Brayden and I were shuffled back and forth between mom in California during the school year and summers with dad at Villa de Scott.

Don’t get me wrong, this mansion was tucked back on the most awesome forty acres ever. Lavishly manicured lawns. A pool with rock waterfall that spilled into a spa complete with a swim up bar which was fully stocked at all times. There were plush couches or hammocks and several cabanas to recover from the Texas sun. There was a juniper maze with a golden fountain at the center of it. Lush lawns and trees, so many trees that you couldn't make out the red brick walls or white columns at the entrance of the mansion from the path until you were right at the door.

Living with dad at one time was a constant argument between me and mom. I begged every year for mom to let me stay the whole summer instead of two weeks. Back then all I thought about were killer parties and all the hotties I’d invite. It took two years of begging before mom gave in and let me stay a whole summer. After the first month, I was begging mom to let me come back home. Yes, I partied, and yes I had my brother, but none of that stopped the teasing from other kids. Only here rich kids teased me about being nouveau riche, instead of teasing me about seeing ghosts.

Brayden bumped my shoulder pulling me from my thoughts. “You ready to tell me yet what crawled up your ass and died?”

“What do you think?” I asked bumping him back.

“Mom.”

I didn’t like how his tone got weepy when he said it. “What about her?” That sounded snappy.

Brayden put an arm around my shoulders, “It’s just us, could you put bitchy Maddie away for a bit?”

What can I say, as a big brother Brayden was as great as he was a giant pain in the ass. I sighed into his embrace, “What do you think happened between them?”

“I don’t know.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder, “I wish I didn’t care, but I wanted him there you know, needed him there. I had to cancel my documentary photography class with Kari Winters. Do you know how hard it was to get into that class? She’s huge. And for what? To deliver a box to someone who doesn’t even care. Uncle Ollie is such a shit …”

Brayden squeezed my shoulder, “I know.”

I looked up at him, “Did you know he wasn’t going?”

Brayden nodded.

“You’ve talked to him?”

Brayden nodded again.
What, cat got your tongue?

“And you didn’t tell me? Did he tell you what happened between him and mom?”

“No. We didn’t really talk about her.”

“Now you’re referring to mom as her? What’s next, you’ll forget her altogether?”

“Come on Maddie, I didn’t mean it like that. Why are you twisting everything I say?”

“When Uncle Ollie wrote mom off he wrote us off too.”

“Maddie there’s two sides to every story.”

“And now you’re defending him to me!” My anger was about to get the best of me.

“Stop it. Stop making me the enemy. I’m not.” I tried to pull away but Brayden held firm. “Maddie, I’m taking over.”

“What?”

“A couple of months ago dad came to me and told me he wants to make me the CFO when he steps down. Apparently, he told Uncle Ollie, who called to congratulate me sort of.” We’d reached the porch to the house now and Brayden stopped short, “We got to talking and he extended an olive branch. He’s called a couple times since.”

“Dad talks to Uncle Ollie?”

“I guess.”

I ran my hands through my hair yanking on the roots until the tingling eased the headache forming. “Let me see if I got this, dad’s making you the CFO of C&S Oil, dad talks to Uncle Ollie who is now talking to you.”

“Yeah.”

“Is this like dad’s way of bribing you to stay when you finish school instead of coming back home?”

Brayden looked off to the Southeast corner of the property, “It’s a company, Maddie, not a damned TV show.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Meaning, familial ties aside, dad ain’t doing nothing unless it benefits the company.”

“And you benefit the company?” Brayden met my gaze and if I weren’t mistaken, I’d wounded him. “I don’t mean it like that it’s just you’re twenty-two, do you know how to run a company? Do you even want to run his company?” I figured when Brayden graduated he’d move back to Palo Alto, back to me.

“I think I do, I mean in theory, well yeah I do. I’ve been working with him in the office on Fridays and last year I changed my major to business communications …”

“You didn’t tell me. Did you tell mom?”

“No, I didn’t want to piss her off. You know how she gets—got with things involving dad.”

“Can you blame her? Dad dumped her, dumped us, for the pursuit of money. Now you’re acting all sneaky and underhanded, much like dear old dad.” Brayden was going to desert me.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You sure as hell could have fooled me.”

Brayden swung his arms wide, “Fuck this,” he said, “I’m out, go pick a fight with someone else.” He gave me a one finger salute and turned away from the porch, heading instead, towards the horse stables. “I know you like to covet mom as though it was you and her against the world, but she was my mom and I lost her too,” he hollered over his shoulder as he walked away.

I kicked at the pebbles. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Okay maybe Brayden wasn’t the enemy, but I couldn’t help it, I was jealous. Uncle Ollie was speaking to him, dad wanted to make him CFO and Gram favored him. Unlike Brayden who got along with everyone, I only felt connected to our mom. And now mom was gone. I stared up at the front door debating whether to go inside. I could go to my room and hide out until this trip was over or go apologize to Brayden.

“Dammit,” I hollered and kicked at the pebbles. “I fucking hate this place!”

“Is everything okay?”

The baritone voice startled me. I didn’t recognize it. I spun to see a man walking up to me. “You must be Matilda, Brayden’s little sister, right?”

I started at his scuffed boots, skimmed over his dark jeans (not too tight but covered in dust), black and white checkered flannel (that too was covered in dust) up to his face, which was masked by the shadows of his trucker hat.

“Excuse me, you are?”

“Sorry, how rude of me,” he snatched off his hat and held out his hand to me, “name’s Wesley, ma’am. Wesley Thompson.”

Without the hat I could see his face. Cropped black hair, brown eyes and a fine spray of stubble along his chin, probably took a week or two to get it there, and a mole beside his right eye. He was flirt-worthy but he had such a soft face. By the look of him I could go to jail for flirting with him, but damn if his voice didn’t throw me off.

Keep it casual
. I took his hand, “Yeah that’s me,
Maddie
the little sister.”

“When’d you all get here?” He put his hat back on.

His baby face and sexy voice were jarring.

“Just now, I think anyways.” I continued twirling my toe in the gravel trying not to look at him, “So, Wesley, did you hear any of that?”

“Any of what?” He smiled. “I always try to ignore a lady’s cursing ma’am. I promise not to think any less of you.”

“I guess that’s good because I was being polite. My mom always told me to say what I mean and mean what I say, I own my words curses and all.”

My anger was flaring up again. How could she leave me totally alone?

Wesley took his hat off his head and started fanning himself. He put his other hand on his hip acting like a proper southern woman. “Well, then,” he said in a high-pitched southern drawl, “shit’s about to get real round here.”

I tried to suppress my smile.

He fluttered his lashes and swished his hips. I couldn’t contain it any further and I started laughing.

Wesley smiled and nodded, “There you are sugah.” Wesley put his hat back on his head. “Care to watch them break in a stallion?”

I looked over at the front door.

Wesley looked with me, “Oh yeah, you probably want to visit with your family. Maybe tomorrow—”

I knew Wesley all of five minutes but going and watching a horse sounded better than going and visiting with my dad. “No, I’d love to play with horses or whatever.”

“All right, come on then.”

We continued down the path heading to the horse corrals in silence. Halfway there I couldn’t shake the urge to talk. There was too much swimming in my head and Wesley, a complete stranger, was easy to talk to. “Did you hear the rest of that cursing match?”