Page 11
Story: Sutton's CEO
“You didn’t drink the sacramental wine again, did you?” I asked pointedly.
Martha is pretty serious about the sacramental wine. The thing is that Martha and Earl were the caretakers of the local church. But Earl tended to have poker games in the chapel and grow marijuana in the herb gardens.
Earl pouted, “I came across some extra funds and spent them at the tables. How was I to know Father had forgotten the collection plate?”
“Earl!”
But it was no use arguing. Earl was who he was, and Martha would forgive him eventually.
“Do you have enough blankets?” I went to the closet to pull down an extra one. They there threaded and bare, but with enough of them, he should stay warm.
“You can’t just let him stay here,” Mr. Williams said with authority.
I had forgotten about him, damn it.
“Have a heart, Mr. Williams. He has nowhere else to go.”
The man’s eyes shot icicles at me, “I do not need a heart, Miss Landry. You, however, could do with a strong dose of common sense. It would appear that you were born without it. He looks like a vagrant and smells to high heaven.”
Earl sniffed his soiled jacket and wrinkled his nose. He turned to look at me hopefully.
I couldn’t help the huff of laughter, “Yes, Earl, you can shower in the morning.”
“Miss Landry, I must stop this absurd situation. You can’t have a strange man sleeping in your home!”
I turned to Mr. Williams, raising a brow. “I know Earl. He is not a stranger. You, however, are. Should I throw you out on your ass?”
Earl smirked at Mr. Williams, and I stifled a smile. “Go to sleep, Earl.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came his scratchy reply. “Turn those lights off on the way out, would you Sutton?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Good night, Earl.”
“Good night, Sutton.”
Mr. Williams followed me back out into the small living area. I knew what he saw offended him. My furniture hadn’t been new since the sixties, and there was not a damn thing in the place that matched. But it was clean, and it was mine. And I wouldn’t let him get the better of me.
“What now, Mr. Williams? Are you going to sleep on the couch?”
He eyed my narrow sofa in distaste. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
I almost offered to trade him, but my feet were aching, and my bed was calling my name. I went to the hall closet and found a few more blankets with a pillow.
“Why don’t you try and get some rest? The morning will be here before we know it.” I tried to smile at him, but it came out more like a grimace. “Do you need anything else?”
I prayed he didn’t.
“I shall be perfectly situated. Don’t worry about me.” His formal tones were in such contrast to my simple home.
“Good night, Mr. Williams.”
I turned to enter my bedroom, which unfortunately was right off the living area. Just as I was shutting the door, I heard his reply.
“Good night, Miss Landry, sleep well.”
If only that had been the case.
Chapter Five
Martha is pretty serious about the sacramental wine. The thing is that Martha and Earl were the caretakers of the local church. But Earl tended to have poker games in the chapel and grow marijuana in the herb gardens.
Earl pouted, “I came across some extra funds and spent them at the tables. How was I to know Father had forgotten the collection plate?”
“Earl!”
But it was no use arguing. Earl was who he was, and Martha would forgive him eventually.
“Do you have enough blankets?” I went to the closet to pull down an extra one. They there threaded and bare, but with enough of them, he should stay warm.
“You can’t just let him stay here,” Mr. Williams said with authority.
I had forgotten about him, damn it.
“Have a heart, Mr. Williams. He has nowhere else to go.”
The man’s eyes shot icicles at me, “I do not need a heart, Miss Landry. You, however, could do with a strong dose of common sense. It would appear that you were born without it. He looks like a vagrant and smells to high heaven.”
Earl sniffed his soiled jacket and wrinkled his nose. He turned to look at me hopefully.
I couldn’t help the huff of laughter, “Yes, Earl, you can shower in the morning.”
“Miss Landry, I must stop this absurd situation. You can’t have a strange man sleeping in your home!”
I turned to Mr. Williams, raising a brow. “I know Earl. He is not a stranger. You, however, are. Should I throw you out on your ass?”
Earl smirked at Mr. Williams, and I stifled a smile. “Go to sleep, Earl.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came his scratchy reply. “Turn those lights off on the way out, would you Sutton?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Good night, Earl.”
“Good night, Sutton.”
Mr. Williams followed me back out into the small living area. I knew what he saw offended him. My furniture hadn’t been new since the sixties, and there was not a damn thing in the place that matched. But it was clean, and it was mine. And I wouldn’t let him get the better of me.
“What now, Mr. Williams? Are you going to sleep on the couch?”
He eyed my narrow sofa in distaste. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
I almost offered to trade him, but my feet were aching, and my bed was calling my name. I went to the hall closet and found a few more blankets with a pillow.
“Why don’t you try and get some rest? The morning will be here before we know it.” I tried to smile at him, but it came out more like a grimace. “Do you need anything else?”
I prayed he didn’t.
“I shall be perfectly situated. Don’t worry about me.” His formal tones were in such contrast to my simple home.
“Good night, Mr. Williams.”
I turned to enter my bedroom, which unfortunately was right off the living area. Just as I was shutting the door, I heard his reply.
“Good night, Miss Landry, sleep well.”
If only that had been the case.
Chapter Five
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