Chapter 3: TMI
1249 Words
ABIGAIL'S POV
I locked the gate with ease and gestured for him to follow me into the house. The warm smell of biscuits and gravy filled the house and I suddenly felt at home. I licked my lips and smiled as I watched mama set down a basket of warm biscuits, a gravy boat, a small plate of butter, and a jar of strawberry jam. A container of honey sat on the table as well.
“Breakfast for lunch?" I raised an eyebrow at my mama as I sat down at the table.
“I figured trouble over here needed a little southern welcome." Mama winked at John, and I paled.
I knew what she was doing. She was trying to get me to fall for this stranger that had bumped into me. Her schemes never got past me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Of course. My mama makes the best biscuits and gravy in this whole town. She'll tell ya." I placed my napkin in my lap, taking note of how he sat down and did the same.
“Is that right? Well, I must be the luckiest man in the world to get to taste them." John flirted.
“Oh stop. Ms. Abigail here makes the best pancakes in the south." My mama pointed at me with a spoon, and I blushed.
“I don't. Stop, mama." I brought my glass of orange juice to my lips to hide my blush from John.
“She does. Her old best friend, Tim, couldn't get enough. He'd come over on Sundays after church just to have some." Mama swirled the spoon through the air.
“Tim?" John peered over at me, and I sighed.
“Oh… little Timmy moved away years ago. Hasn't been back since. Word has it, he's settled down with a couple of kids in Phoenix." Mama took off her apron and sat down to join us. “Always kinda hoped he'd marry Abigail."
“Mama!" I yelled at her with a threatening tone that made John laugh at the table beside me.
“It's alright. I'm glad that you liked Tim so much. He sounds lovely." John smiled.
“Eat up. Get more meat on those bones." My mama grabbed the basket of biscuits and shoved it towards the man at the table.
“Alright, alright. Thank you." John took the basket and placed two biscuits on his plate.
“Should grab one more." Mama winked at him, and he laughed, placing a third one down.
“Mama, leave the man alone." I whined and took the basket from him, placing two on mine.
“What? A growing man needs to eat." My mama poured gravy on top of her own biscuits and passed the gravy boat to John.
“It's alright. My mother is a lot like you. Never let us eat too little. Probably due to growing up with so little as a girl." His laugh was infectious and lit up the kitchen like a summer day and I didn't know how to feel about that.
“It's never good to work on an empty stomach." Mama winked at us.
I sighed and thanked John as I took the gravy from him, staring at my mother like she was clearly planning something. I knew her. This was all a part of her plan.
“What smells so good?" My father walked into the house, tapping his boots on the outdoor mat.
“My world-famous biscuits and gravy." Mama peered up to kiss my father. “We got a guest, a Mr. John. Just flew in from the big city that our little Abigail came from."
“Well, it's nice to meet you, John." My father walked over and held his hand out. “How you likin' our little town?"
John stood up and held his napkin in his hand, while shaking my fathers with the other. “Nice to meet you, sir. It's nice. I'm enjoying it."
“He ran into our Abigail down at Marty's and offered to buy her lunch to apologize, but I thought it'd be nice to have him stay for a meal instead." My mama winked at my father, and I knew they were both in on the damn thing.
“Sounds about right." My father sat down at the table. “My name's Bill and this is Mary."
“Oh, silly me. I forgot to introduce myself." My mama rolled her eyes at herself. “Her sister is headed in with her husband. They got a baby on the way. My head's been a tizzy."
“It's alright. Thank you for inviting me to have a meal with you." John smiled and grabbed his fork.
He froze when I looked over at him with my hands up in prayer. It was a common family practice in my home. I didn't abide by it outside of it, but I knew I was expected to say grace before a meal. He set his fork down and mirrored us. My mama said her usual prayer and we all echoed an 'amen' before we grabbed our forks to eat.
“Farm is getting less crops this year than last." My father sighed and made his plate.
“Seems to be that way every year." My mama sighed and took a bite.
“Why?" I took a bite of my food.
“Who knows," Father shrugged, “Could be the weather or the ground?"
“We'll be okay. Hens are laying good, and the cows are producing milk. That'll get us by," Mama shrugged. “Did you show John the horses?"
“No, I ran out of time." I blushed and buried myself in the meal in front of me.
“I'd love to meet them. How many do you all have?" John smiled.
“A dozen or so. Millie is Abigail's mare." My father outed my horse like it was just an old friend at the table. “Got her when she was a little girl."
“Daddy," I complained and glared at him.
“What? You should go see Millie; she's getting pretty old." My father ate another bite.
The meal went on about old stories of me as a little kid and the strange city man had just sat and basked in it like it was normal. I had no idea how he had sat through all that and not cringed. It was so embarrassing and all I wanted to do was hide under the table like I was a small child again.
“I'm really sorry about that. My parents like to show off their first born like a trophy." I rolled my eyes and focused on driving into town. “So, I'm assuming you're staying at Betty's Bed and Breakfast?"
“I am. How'd you know?" He laughed beside me.
“Oh, I don't know. Only place in this small town to stay really." I laughed and gripped the steering wheel in my hands.
“Why did you leave? This town seems so amazing and nice. I mean, I get why you came back home." He shrugged. “And don't apologize for your family. They were wonderful."
“I wanted to go to college somewhere new. I'm more of the adventurous type." I shrugged.
“What'd you major in?"
“Business." I sighed. “I know it's boring."
“No, not at all. Although, I majored in it too so I'm a bit biased." John laughed.
- Writer
