Southern Chance (Southern 1)

Olivia just looks up and still says nothing. “Don’t tell me the cat’s got your tongue.” He winks at her, and I have to save her.

“That’s enough, Romeo,” I say to him, and he looks over his shoulder. “Don’t waste all that charm on Olivia. She’s immune to it.”

He runs his hand through his hair, making his arm flex. “Is that so?”

“Um,” Olivia says. “Um.”

“Goodness gracious,” my mother mumbles. “Casey, you get the bags upstairs.” She looks at my father. “Let’s get the food on the table.”

“Mom,” I say, and she holds up her hand.

“Don’t even mom me. You are skin and bones.”

I shake my head. “I’m not.”

“Hush up,” my mother says. She turns on her sneakers and walks up the two steps, letting the door slam behind her.

“Um, Kallie,” Olivia says from beside me when Casey walks up the steps and my father holds the screen door open for him. “Is that your brother?”

“Yup,” I say, nodding my head. “That would be Casey.”

“Why have I never heard about him or seen pictures of him?” she asks, and I put my hand up to my head.

“There is a picture in my bedroom of me on gradation day with my family,” I say, and she tilts her head.

“That man is not in that picture.” She points at the door. “He’s married, right? He has a herd of children.” We walk slowly to the front door.

I throw my head back and laugh. “I don’t even know what to say to that, but the answer is no. He is not one to be tied down.”

“Good God,” she says. The smell of my mother’s cooking hits me right away, and my mouth waters.

I pull open the screen door, and my feet don’t move from the spot. It’s almost the same from when I left. All that’s changed are the paint colors. But when I walk inside, the pictures lining the wall are all there. Pictures from our childhood to high school and then college. There are a couple from Christmas, but I’m not in those, and my hand comes out on its own, and I trace the frame. “See, he’s in this picture,” Olivia says from beside me. “He’s definitely not in the one in your room.”

“He’s just in the back, and you don’t notice him.” I laugh, shaking my head. Then I hear Casey walking upstairs and then jogging down the steps. “Definitely not,” Olivia says from beside me.

“I set her up in my old room,” he says and then looks at Olivia. “I can give you a tour later if you want.”

“NO!” I shout out the same time Olivia says, “Sure.”

“Goodness gracious,” my mother says, coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands on the apron she is now wearing. “Why the yellin’?”

“Nothing, Ma,” Casey says. He walks past us, and I look at Olivia who watches him like he’s her last meal on earth.

“We have a pact,” I say.

“What pact?” She looks over at me.

“We aren’t allowed to date each other’s brother. It’s a universal thing really. Friends are not allowed to date the other’s siblings.”

“I don’t have a brother,” she informs me, “but if I did, and he looked like that, I would let you date him. I mean, date is a strong word since I gave up on dating, but I would let you find out if he wears boxers or briefs.” She points at Casey.

“It’s boxer briefs,” I say. “There, now no need to find out.”

“He could make me forget,” she says, and I groan. “Fine, fine.”

We walk into the kitchen area, and it’s just like it’s always been. All six burners on the range have a pot of them. The long wooden table in front of the big island also has food on it with a vase of fresh flowers in the middle. Something my father always does is bring her fresh flowers every single Friday. “It smells so good,” I say to my mother, and she just smiles.

“Go wash up and then have a seat.” She points at the bathroom, and Olivia and I both go wash our hands. When we come back, the table is set, and Casey and my father are bringing plates to the table.

“How many people are coming?” Olivia whispers, and I shrug.

“Everything is bigger in the South,” I say, walking to the table.

“Heehaw to that,” Casey says and then looks at Olivia. “Saved you a seat, darlin’.”

“You.” I point at Casey. “Stop that right now. We have a pact.”

“It’s null and void.” He smirks. “Has been since you left.”

“How many?” I ask him, thinking of how many of my friends he’s hooked up with and broke their hearts.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.” He sits down, and I look around.

“I don’t see any gentlemen here,” I say, grabbing my own chair and sitting down. “You.” I point at Olivia. “Come sit here next to me.”