Snakes Among Sweet Flowers (10 page)

CAM WASN’T
looking forward to his evening with Ida and Charles. He’d scrubbed himself until he nearly shined, and he’d put on the only pair of dress pants he owned, a pair he’d worn when going to appointments with his parole officer. They fit better than they had then, and he turned around to check out his own ass in the mirror.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself. Only, I doubt the old folks are going to appreciate my fineness.” Cam frowned. “God, I hope not….” He shook off the disturbing thought and pulled on a white button-up shirt, then sat on the end of the bed to put on his socks and shoes. None of the clothes were the latest fashion, and to be honest, Cam thought he looked like nothing more than a convict dressing for a court appearance.

Tom hopped up on the bed to inspect Cam’s unfamiliar clothing, sniffing, then rubbing her head on his arm. “Okay, no orange hairs on the clothes. I already look goofy enough.” He patted Tom on the head before standing and clomping across the room. Dress shoes were as loud as his damn shower sandals.

At his dresser, he pushed his wallet into his pocket and scooped up his keys. He turned a three-sixty in the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, then headed down the stairs. Did people take a present when they were invited to eat at someone’s house? Hell if he knew. And unless he wanted to take a half-empty squirt bottle of Hershey’s syrup, he wasn’t sure what he’d bring. He shrugged and headed out the front door.

As Cam passed the small park in town, he noticed a group of men gathering for what looked like an impromptu game of football. Some had already taken off their shirts as a way to designate their chosen team, and Cam debated pulling over to watch. Probably not a good idea, he decided and kept on his way. Damn, he needed to get in on one of those games.

It was only another couple of turns before he pulled up in front of a tiny white house with bright green shutters. The flowers around the matching mailbox and along the walkway to the front door were in full bloom and looked to be well taken care of. The huge land yacht in the driveway told Cam he’d found the right place.

Before Cam made it up the walkway, the front door swung open and Ida pushed open the screen door. “You’re just in time! We can sit right down to eat.”

Cam smiled at the energetic little lady. Ida didn’t stand any higher than his elbow, but he had no doubt she could take charge of a room full of Vikings if she had a mind to. “Thank you for inviting me. It smells delicious,” he said as he stepped past her and into a house that had nothing out of place. Charles stood in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, smiling and waving Cam in that direction.

And it did smell delicious. Cam felt his stomach gurgle with pleasure at the mere thought of the home cooking he was in for that evening.

Ida followed behind Cam and pointed out his spot at the table before she sat and busied herself with putting her cloth napkin in her lap. “We have always loved company, Camden—may we call you Camden?”

Cam nodded his consent, but Ida didn’t give him a chance to say anything before she continued.

“We used to have dinner parties all the time, but now it seems either we are too tired or our friends are.”

Charles made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a laugh, then passed his bowl to Ida. She took it and scooped out a helping of chicken and dumplings with big white dumplings that looked more like ping-pong balls floating in the thick broth. Cam’s bowl was next to be filled and then he dived right in, not worrying about if he should wait for anyone else first. He hadn’t had chicken and dumplings in years and hadn’t had
homemade
chicken and dumplings since his grandmother had died.

Cam hummed his approval at the savory flavor. “This is better than my grandma’s, Mrs. Evans,” Cam confided. “But I wouldn’t have ever said that to her. She could cook like you wouldn’t believe.”

Ida smiled. “Thank you, honey. Sounds like you loved her. And please call us Ida and Charles. We’ve never stood on formality.”

“Yes, ma’am. My grandmother was a special woman.” Cam ducked his head and went back to shoveling in his food. Talk of his grandmother could make him emotional, but thinking of her love for blue roses and the blue rose wallet he’d taken from Ida’s purse made his heart hurt something fierce.

Ida served up cucumber salad to each of them, then tucked into her own food. The room quieted for a time as they each enjoyed the delicious dinner.

When Cam had finished his second helping, he pushed back his chair and patted his belly. Ida seemed pleased with the gesture, as did Charles. “I have dessert, but maybe we should let dinner settle first,” Ida said. “Let me start the coffee and then we can relax in the living room for a bit while it brews.” Ida started collecting plates and Charles tried to help.

“Please, let me do that. It’s the least I can do,” Cam said, taking the plates from both of their hands before carrying them into the kitchen. He ended up washing the small amount of dishes while Ida got the coffeepot set up and started, and then they both met Charles in the living room and Ida sat Cam between them on the long sofa.

Ida leaned forward and pulled out a photo album from the lower shelf of the coffee table, then sat back, placing the heavy book on Cam’s lap. Cam felt a bit trapped in the situation. The last thing he wanted was to go on a walk down memory lane with two people who probably had enough photo albums to keep him busy for weeks. He looked down at baby pictures and realized this was going to be a nightmare.

“This is Charles when he was a baby, and this is me,” Ida began. “But I won’t bore you with all of that. I just wanted to show you something.”

Charles reached over and flipped the pages, obviously knowing what she was looking for. More toward the middle, they found the page they sought and Cam looked down at pictures of a teenaged couple, the female fresh-faced and beautiful, the male virile and handsome. Both had huge grins, arms around each other and dressed as if going to a party. Cam stared in shock.

“We weren’t always old, you know,” Ida said with a chuckle. She tapped her finger on the picture. “We loved to dance back then, never missed a party.” She flipped the page and there was the same couple doing some out-of-date dance step surrounded by a crowd of other young people in what looked like a gym. “Charles could really cut a rug. All the girls wanted to dance with him.”

Cam glanced over and Charles grinned at him. He could see the handsome teen buried under the wrinkles age had wrought. The discovery shocked Cam for some reason, and he turned away quickly before Charles saw the expression he was sure was obvious on his face.

“When we were seventeen, we’d been dating over a year and thought we were so worldly.” Ida turned the page again and the couple held a trophy between them. “We won the dance contest at the Optimist Club dance,” she explained. “Then I found out I was in the family way.” Ida looked up then, staring at Cam to be sure he understood.

Cam had no idea what to say. He glanced away, not wanting to look at Ida’s sincere but sad expression, and not at all sure why she was telling him this. There were no pictures of children on the walls, and he was pretty sure Officer Rhodes had said they had no kids to help them out. Didn’t he say that?

“There was a doctor in the next county over. He did procedures in the back rooms of his office, and a friend of mine took me there because I didn’t want anyone to know what I had done.” She continued to stare at him, and Cam fidgeted. He couldn’t seem to think of a thing to say. He glanced over to Charles, who now looked down at his hands.
Shit!
What the fuck was happening here?

“It was the most traumatic thing I have ever gone through, and within a day of visiting the doctor, I knew something was horribly wrong. My parents rushed me to the hospital, and I spent the next week there. I almost died, Camden.”

Why had she said his name? What did she want from him? He stared down at the picture of the two happy people with their trophy to keep from looking into Ida’s intent gaze. He heard Charles sniffle and gritted his teeth.

“When the hospital released me, I was told I would never be able to have children, and by that time, the entire town knew what I had done. Not only did I have to deal with regret for the decision I’d made, but with the shame of knowing everyone else knew. Charles could have left me then. Men have never been judged for sex like women have. But he didn’t.” She reached across Cam then and took Charles’s hand, squeezing it in her own. “He even asked me to marry him, knowing we would never have kids of our own.”

Cam glanced between the pair and saw the love in their watery eyes as they exchanged a sad smile. It got quiet for a few moments, and Cam continued to search for something to say, maybe some way to change the subject. He came up empty.

Finally Ida took a shuddering breath and turned her attention back to Cam. “We watched everyone else’s kids while their parents worked or when they went out. We ended up with more kids than anyone else because of it.” She smiled and flipped through some pages to pictures of the pair holding different babies and children through the years.

“The reason I told you this, Camden—” She turned back to stare into his eyes. “—is to say: We all make mistakes in our life. And we are all embarrassed and want to hide them. But sometimes, there is nothing to do for it but to hold your head high and own up to your actions. Sometimes things work out despite it all.”

She smiled and closed the photo album, then leaned forward to slide it back onto the lower shelf of the coffee table. When she sat back on the couch again, she patted Cam’s hand before pushing herself to her feet.

“Well, now, anyone ready for cobbler and ice cream?” she asked as she headed to the kitchen.

Cam found his mouth hanging open and pulled it closed with a snap. He turned to Charles when the man also patted his hand. Charles’s eyes were red-rimmed but clear, and way too knowing. Although, as much as Cam searched, he could find no anger or hatred within them.

What the fuck had just happened?

CAM DROPPED
onto his sofa with a heavy sigh. He hadn’t gotten any farther into the house than the living room. The evening had drained every bit of energy from him, and yet he had little hope he would be able to sleep that night. Damn those old people! What was wrong with him for letting them get to him? It wasn’t like they lived in squalor. They could afford to lose a little money, right? What right did they have to make him feel guilty for it? He should have never gone over there for dinner. It was his own damn fault for being so soft.

With a meow of welcome, Tommasina hopped onto his chest and began kneading. Cam reached up and petted the cat. “You know, I am so fucked,” he said, staring up at the ceiling.

JACKSON GOT
out of his Mustang and walked across the grass to where the other guys were gathering. He’d gone home after dropping off the Watson kids to change into cutoff sweats and a stretched-out T-shirt. No need to wear anything nicer when they were just going to get sweaty and dirty with red Georgia clay before the end of the touch football game.

When the group already waiting saw Jackson approaching, they whooped and cheered. Jackson had missed the last few games and now was remembering why he enjoyed the scheduled matches so much. He needed to make more of an effort to hang out with his friends, even when he was busy as he had been lately.

“Jackson.” Clint Richards made the name come out like a deep dog bark and all the others gave answering barks, clapping Jackson on the back in greeting. “Ready to get your ass beat?” Clint asked and shoved the football into Jackson’s chest.

“It won’t be by you,” Jackson fired back, keeping the ball and turning to the crowd that now circled him. “Have we picked teams?”

“Yeah, we didn’t know if you were coming,” Clint answered. “We can choose again if you want.”

“Nah, just tell me what team I’m on.” Jackson wasn’t going to make everyone go to all that trouble. He was the one who’d shown up late, after all.

After some arguing among themselves, it was decided that Jackson would be on the skins team, and they all split up to start the game. While some of the guys had let themselves go since their high school days, most still looked good enough for Jackson to enjoy the view. Clint had been Jackson’s best friend while in school and also a frequent star in his teenage fantasies, though Jackson had tried his best to never let that show, keeping all his sexual thoughts and actions bottled up, except in private with Grant.

And speak of the devil. “Hey, guys! In need of a cheering section?” Grant called out from the side of the field where he was getting comfortable on the grass with a blanket and water bottle. Ugh. Jackson felt the sudden need to pull his shirt back on.

GRANT STRETCHED
his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his arms. He tried to make it every week for this little high school reunion. Not because he didn’t see the guys around town already, but because of the beautiful display of skin and man sweat. Too bad there was no tackling. It was better than watching porn and he didn’t have to worry about his wife going on a crying jag again if she caught him. Plus, there was the possibility of grabbing some real action from these guys, unlike the porn stars he would never meet in person.

While the majority of these guys were dyed-in-the-wool heterosexuals, that never stopped them from accepting the occasional drunk blowjob, and Grant always tried to make himself available when those opportunities arose. There would be no drunkenness this evening, sadly, but he could still enjoy the view.

Jackson strode out onto the field, his tanned skin sprinkled with golden fur that Grant could still remember licking. It had been a while, though. Jackson had cut him off and good. Not even a drunken blowjob since Grant got married. What a shame. Jackson’s body was still in prime condition, and as he bent over, Grant got a fine display of his firm, rounded backside.