Work Text:
The stern summer sun blazed from above, hidden from nary a cloud in the sky. Even in the early morning hours, the wet air was already oppressive with humidity. The surrounding oak trees stood still, and the lack of a breeze promised for yet another miserably hot afternoon.
Marcus Kane swatted a fly away with a calloused hand then reached for another pork rind in the bag beside of him labeled PORKY’S RINDS $2 ONLY. He sat on the bed of his old green Ford flatbed truck, parked adjacent to the dusty red dirt road. A rusted sign stood propped up against the truck’s tire which read TURNIPS 4 SALE.
The area around him was quiet save for the sound of a far-off tractor working the pecan farm. Pastures surrounded him from every angle. Behind him, a dilapidated barn barely stood upright and beside it was a single-wide trailer, its siding covered in radioactive-colored green algae. The doors and windows were boarded up and the words JESUS SAVES were painted in red on weathered, old plywood above the trailer in what looked like a makeshift two story addition. A rusty water tower loomed near the property, the words BILLY BOB LOVES CHARLENE painted across it in a gaudy John Deere green.
He hadn’t seen a single car pass by in over an hour and midday was sneaking up on him. The relentless sun beamed down on his forearms which were tanned from his daily work outdoors. He wiped the sweat from his brow and slapped a mosquito that threatened to bite his neck. The faint sound of classic country music crept out through the opened windows of his truck and he tapped his boot along to a familiar twangy tune. He glanced at his watch and sighed. It was past Noon and no sales. He looked around him and decided to call it a day. He pulled out his phone and sent his mother a text: “I’m packing up for the day, Mama. I’ll stop by and see you soon.” Soon after he hit SEND, he looked up from his phone to see a cherry red Corvette parting a cloud of dust and he thought to himself that the driver was surely not from around these parts.
To his surprise, the Corvette pulled over to the side of the road and out stepped the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He quickly stood to his feet and wiped the pork rind crumbs off of his shirt and out of his beard. A quick glance at her license plate confirmed she wasn’t from Georgia, but from Hollywood. The look on her face as she stepped out and slipped on her Chanel sunglasses read: “This must be where rednecks come from.” She wore a white body-con dress which accentuated her summer tan and she struggled as she walked through the dirt in her matching high heels. She tightened her ponytail, cleared her throat, and approached him with a friendly smile.
“Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’m…lost.” She threw her arms up in defeat and let out a soft, anxious laugh. “I must have missed my exit and I need to get back onto the interstate.”
Marcus nodded thoughtfully, trying not to get lost in her scent or how her dress fit snugly to her body. Don’t be a creep, he told himself. Forcing himself from his thoughts, he nodded once more.
“Uh, yeah, sure, I can help you out. You said you needed to get to the interstate?”
She grinned. “Yes, I’m heading south for vacation.”
He shot her a curious look. “Just you?”
“I’m meeting some friends at their condo.”
He smiled softly. “Sounds like fun.”
His eyes fell to her wringed hands. No wedding band, he thought. He scratched his beard and looked behind him. “If you follow that road way up yonder past the caution light, you’ll pass by this little country store. There’s an old Coca-Cola sign in the front, two rocking chairs—you can’t miss it.
“If you have time, you’ve gotta stop in and ask Miss Vera for some of her sweet tea. Now, if you go on down the road a piece more, you’ll reach an intersection. If you take a left, it’ll take you to the interstate, but if you take a right, it’ll bring you right back here to me.”
She smiled with sparking brown eyes that put the finest diamonds to shame. “Thank you so much. These damn GPSes, they do more harm than they do good.”
They shared a laugh and he followed her to her car. He held the door open for her and she slid into her luxury leather seat. “Thank you again,” she said.
“Not a problem. You take care.” He closed the door to her car and watched her drive away, the cloud of dust returning once more.
He leaned against the truck bed and scowled at the song playing from inside of his truck. “I’m so lonesome I could cry,” crooned Hank Williams, causing Marcus to get up and eject the cassette tape, throwing it on the rusty floorboard.
He climbed onto the bed of his truck and sat in silence as he thought about her pretty face, realizing that he never even asked for her name. What a fool he was. That was why he was alone. That was why he’d never find love. He thought for a split second that he could try to catch up to her, at least get her name, but he drove an old Ford truck and she was in a Corvette. There was no catching her. Someone like her would never go for a guy like him anyhow, he thought.
He started to pack up for the day, stacking the crates of fresh turnips and organizing them neatly in the bed of the truck when his phone dinged. It was Mama.
“Hey son,” she texted. “A pretty young woman just stopped by to see me. Said you sent her there to have some of my sweet tea. I gave her a big full glass. Bless her heart, she probably could use it. See you soon, love ya.”
He smiled from ear to ear as he read the words on his phone. He shook his head in disbelief. She actually stopped for some sweet tea. He wasn’t sure why, but something felt right about that.
The turnips were loaded back into their crates and Marcus finally decided to call it a day. He climbed into the old Ford truck and placed the key inside the ignition but he never turned it. His hands were frozen and his eyes were fixated on the road as he watched a cherry red Corvette stir up dust, making a beeline for his location.
She pulled the car over and stepped out, two mason jars of sweet iced tea in her hands. Marcus slowly stepped out of his truck, never once taking his eyes off of her beautiful face. They met halfway between their vehicles and he fumbled over his words as he tried to come to terms with the girl of his dreams standing right in front of him once more. Surely this was a heat stroke from the Georgia climate. Surely his mind was playing tricks on him. But he knew he wasn’t hallucinating when he heard her low, smoky voice.
“You never mentioned that Miss Vera was your mother,” she said facetiously with suspicious, narrowed eyes.
He simpered and his dark eyes fell to the ground. “It’s a small town,” he said simply, biting his lip as his eyes returned to her.
She acknowledged his remark with a smile. “I thought you’d be thirsty,” she said, offering him one of the mason jars. He accepted the drink and they clinked their glasses, then took a sip in unison. She tried to stifle a gag but she failed. “That’s… so sweet,” she said with a grimace and a cough before taking one more sip.
Marcus chuckled. “Then why are you still drinking it?”
She took another drink. “I can’t seem to stop. What did your mom put in this to make it so addictive?”
“It’s a secret,” he said. They shared a laugh which died off a bit too soon. He started to speak and then halted, his mouth snapping shut. He chewed on his lip and he could feel the red creeping up his neck. He was terrible at this. She stood patiently waiting with that beautiful smile on her face, allowing him to gather his words. “I never caught your name,” he finally said.
She grinned. “That’s all that you were wanting to ask me? I thought you were going to ask me out on a date!”
He tittered, fumbled over his words. “I… I… Um…”
She stood self-assuredly and reached out her hand. “My name is Abby.”
He accepted her hand, which was soft and smooth, and shook it. “I’m Marcus.” Feeling more confident, he spoke again. “And I would ask you out but I thought you had a beach house or something to get to.”
She smiled, biting her lip, and he decided she was officially the most adorable woman that he had ever met. “I’d much rather be here with you.”
His heart skipped a beat at her words. He blinked rapidly, trying to process all that was happening. The shock from her words nearly made him miss what she said next.
“Do you cook?”
“I try,” he answered humbly. He’d won first place in the town’s chili cook off for the past 11 years and made the best chicken and dumplings from scratch that ever existed.
“How about you show me how a southern gentleman treats a lady? I’d love to try some of those turnips you’ve got.”
“I’d love to. Follow me to my place and I’ll feed you some good ole country cooking,” he said with a wink.
He’d never felt more confident than he did in that moment. The woman of his dreams wanted him to make her lunch! Or was it supper time? He’d lost all sense of time since meeting Abby.
“Can’t wait,” she said gleefully, and then leaned in and kissed him on his bristly cheek. His face burned. He attempted to resist smiling like an idiot but this woman evoked emotions inside of him that he’d never felt before and he melted into a puddle.
“Follow me,” he said, gathering himself just enough to form somewhat of a solid, human shape once more.
He decided that day that he was going to do whatever he could to make Abby happy and maybe, hopefully, she’d choose to stay.
***
Thank God for good directions… and turnip greens.