The
front door opened and one of Porter's granddaughters walked in. She
and Olivia were about the same age.
"That
my little Frangipani?" Porter called.
"It
sure is, Granddad! Livy, it's so good to see you!" The young
women hugged. "Girl, I have missed you! You ready to get to
work?"
"Sit
down and have a cup," Porter invited. "The others are
coming. I knew you'd be first. My little Frangi is always early. Now,
that brother of yours.... Pfft!" He waved his gnarled hand. "Boy
was born late."
"Boone's
coming?" Olivia tried to keep the eagerness from her voice, but
figured she probably failed miserably.
"I
thought he was working today?" Frangi said.
"He
told me he was coming. Now, whether that means after work, now, or
midnight, who can say? That young'un keeps his own time. We got real
time and Boone time."
The
women giggled, knowing it was true.
"Mama
says he'll probably be late to his own funeral."
The
front door banged shut.
"Whose
funeral?" A mellow baritone asked from the living room.
"Slow,
but ears like a fox," Frangi said. "You'll be late to
yours," she said as her brother wandered in.
A
sly smile spread across his face. "Is that Olivia? Lord, girl!
Pops told me to come help with Granny's, but he didn't say you were
gonna be here. Do I get a hug?"
Olivia's
breath caught in her throat when she heard his voice. "It's been
too long, Boone. How you been?"
She
stood, legs shaking, as he folded her in his embrace. His strong arms
wrapped around her and he held her close. She thought she heard him
sigh contentedly. Maybe that was wishful thinking on her part,
because it felt like coming home to find herself in his arms.
Reluctantly, she let go as he released her.
"Chile,
you are skin and bones!" he declared, sounding like his
grandfather. "What do they feed you in Florida?"
"Not
enough, apparently. Sally's already read me the riot act and Porter
fed me more for breakfast than I eat in a day."
"She
ate it all, though," his grandfather stated. "Bet she'd eat
more if I offered it."
"No,
I am officially full. If I eat anything else, I might vomit."
"I
can eat," Boone said as he gave his grandfather a gentle hug.
"I
know that, which is why I made plenty. Help yourself, your hands
ain't broke."
Chuckling,
Boone served himself and poured coffee for his sister. Soon, other
siblings, cousins and friends joined them. Porter had put out the
call to all available hands to be on deck. As they always did, the
family pitched in to help out someone in need. Olivia remembered a
similar response when Poppy had died.
"Y'all
are too good to me," she murmured.
Frangi
put her arm around Olivia's shoulders. "Just good enough,"
she whispered. "So, when are you gonna leave the big city and
come home?"
"I'll
tell you, it's looking better every second." She couldn't keep
her eyes from drifting over to where Boone stood, chatting with his
brother.
As
if he felt her eyes on him, he turned around, flashing her a grin.
She couldn't get over how handsome he was. His black hair was close
cropped, though he sported long sideburns that came to his jaw. He
had a mustache, neither too full nor too thin, it set off the curves
of his sensuous mouth. His skin was mocha colored, his ebony eyes
were almond shaped, hinting at Asian ancestry.
Too
damn handsome for his own good—or mine, she thought. She'd had
a crush on Boone since she was in the fifth grade.
©
2016 Dellani Oakes
No comments:
Post a Comment