My Better Life

I look down at the strawberry and vine patterned plates. When Gavin asked why he hadn’t fixed the broken hinge on the front door, or mended the screens, I didn’t have an answer. I could only think about how Bobby had always made time to fix things, and with three jobs, I never seemed to have the energy or the time.

Gavin saw the look on my face, and I think he thought I was remembering that he’d never helped out before, because he’d nodded and said, “Forget I asked. I’m here now. Okay?”

Gran whistles and spoons the pan fried chicken onto a big ceramic platter. “That boy sure is trying his darnedest.”

I rub my finger over a chip in the edge of the top plate and frown. The thing is, I’m not so sure Gran and Diedre are right. I don’t think he’s trying for the honey pot. I just think he’s trying to be happy in the life that he believes is his.

“How much longer ’til he pays his debt? ’Til you cut him loose?” Diedre studies me with a frown, like she knows what I’m thinking.

I shrug. “Big Tom paid him on Friday. By what he earned and his help around the house, I’d say in two months we’ll be square.”

“Make it one.” Gran frowns at me. Clearly she doesn’t think I’ll be able to resist Gavin longer than a month.

“Alright. One month.”

It’s not like a month is long enough to change a life, or fall in love, or do anything that you’ll regret.

We set the table and bring out all the dishes. The kids swarm the table, and Gran smacks their hands away from the chess pie. Somehow Billy has escaped the chicken run, and I shout after him as he runs away, “That’s your brethren on the table. You better behave!”

Gavin laughs as I run after Billy and I get a happy feeling in my chest when I hear him chuckling.

When we’re all seated and grace is said, everyone scoops the potatoes, greens, cornbread and chicken onto their plates like we’re starving and this is our last meal.

“Slow down,” Gran chides.

Gavin’s next to me, his thigh plastered against mine. Seating is tight—there’s eight of us after all. His foot tangles with mine in the tall grass and a zing sparks up my calf, lighting up my whole body. I look over at him quickly, my eyes wide, knowing a bright blush is covering my cheeks. But he doesn’t acknowledge me, he just keeps rubbing his foot up and down my calf, a small smile on his face as he picks up his cornbread.

Well.

I can’t eat with him touching me. It’s not possible. His foot tangles around my leg and he pulls me even closer. The tingle on my leg travels up and starts up a throb in my core. I grab my glass of iced tea, condensation already running down the glass, and swallow a long gulp.

Gavin gives me a satisfied look and takes another bite of cornbread.

I kick his shin.

He coughs, choking a bit on the cornbread and then hits his chest.

“What is it?” Gran scowls at him. “Don’t you like my cornbread recipe?”

She looks like Billy the rooster when he’s about to start a fight, all puffed up and chin out.

Gavin shakes his head and aims a charming smile at Gran. “Not at all. In fact, I was wondering where Jamie learned to cook. Now I know, she learned from the best.”

Gran levels a disbelieving look at him and then snorts. She shoots Gavin an I’m watching you look. “I hear you’re fixin’ the house.”

Gavin nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes on him, her scrawniness only drawing out her extreme hardheadedness.

“From what I’ve seen, you’re not worth the salt that goes in your butter. My Jamie’s too good for you.” She taps her head. “Forget anything else, but remember that.”

Gavin watches Gran, and I get the feeling he’s taking everything she says to heart. I shake my head. “Gran, he doesn’t—”

Gavin brushes his hand over my thigh and I cut off.

“It’s alright.” He turns to Gran and nods. “I’ll do my best to be a good husband.”

The table goes silent, even the kids look wide-eyed between Gran and Gavin. Elijah has a chicken leg halfway to his mouth and Tanner pauses mid-reach for another piece of cornbread. The crickets chirp around us as Gavin and Gran stare each other down. I think Gran’s silently telling Gavin to watch himself or she’ll bury him under the mountain, and Gavin is telling Gran that he’s my husband and he’s doing his best to prove he’s a good man.