Page 19 of Miles. Alton & The 9:04 (Modern Mail Order Brides #19)
M ae didn't want to admit how nervous she was to meet Thom's family.
In her brief dating history, she'd only made it to this step in the relationship once during graduate school.
Johnathan Moreland, a brilliantly clever political science major, had invited her home for dinner to meet his family, a conservative African American family with strong political ties who seemingly hated every program the government had created to feed or house the American people.
Much of the dinner conversation revolved around handouts to those people , educating those people , and freebies to those people .
“ Those people are the workforce which keeps business and factories running,” Mae interjected.
“While it may not be in your scope of understanding that an educated public benefits us all, it is equally obtuse to believe that an uneducated public is a burden, whereas they work hard, ensuring generations to come that we sustain an unsustainable way of life on a limited pile of resources, thereby enabling us to continue the American void of vampiric consumerism. Your wealth has removed you from the real people, cushioning your life which unfortunately simply limits in your scope of understanding the real America.”
A trip to Kansas with her very Caucasian fiancé, whom she had met two weeks ago was high on her list of What Am I Doing ?
In her mind, the argument raged on, but she was convinced this would show his true colors.
If, and this was part of the deal breaker, someone tried to touch her hair or ask if she was the same color all over and he said nothing to defend her, then it would be over. She looked at Thom and smiled.
“You're deep in thought over there,” he said to her.
“Yeah, I was wondering how old is this Subaru? You must have had this since college,” she said.
“I have, and it runs great, good gas mileage, reliable,” he replied. “So, we will need to stop to shop. Would you like a mall and Macy's or to hit the outlet coming up?”
“An outlet is fine. I can grab a few things from Old Navy,” she said as he arched his eyebrows. “What? Not everything I own is designer.”
He held up a hand in acknowledgement of the correction as he hit the turn signal for the exit.
He located a parking space, and they went into the store.
He expected her to take much longer than she did.
In the store, she grabbed a pair of pajamas, jeans, and a casual dress and added a pack of underwear, a sports bra, socks, and a neat little pair of boots.
Two long sleeve shirts were added with a pair of hoop earrings and she was done.
What surprised Thom was her next move. A Le Creuset store was directly in front of Old Navy and Mae stood on the sidewalk, staring. She said nothing, just stared.
“Do you want to go in?”
“I do, and I want to buy an engagement present for us,” she told him, walking towards the store. “I think the kitchen should be an energetic color like this orange here.”
A woman in the store asked if she could help Mae.
Twenty minutes and fifteen hundred dollars later, there was a complete starter set with a cassadou, a braiser, a Dutch oven, and a mini tea kettle in an orange color.
Thom couldn't stop smiling as they loaded the heavy items into bags to get to the car.
“Why are you smiling so much?”
“You're nesting,” he said, grinning at her. “Wanna make out?”
“Thom, we're going to be late for lunch at your Aunt's,” she told him, touching his arm.
“I know, but the idea of you buying cookware for our home has turned me on so much, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to drive,” he said, looking at her. “We'll get there, but that cute hairdo isn't going to look worth a shit.”
“Stop it and drive mister,” she said, twirling her hair.
It was then that Mae Weston made up her mind.
His family could be a group of toothless mountain people who made their own moonshine, she wouldn't care.
Thom Brown was hers and she'd just dropped fifteen hundred bucks on cookware so she could be barefoot in that cute kitchen making them new recipes she'd found online.
The smile on her face stayed for an hour and a half as they arrived in Leavenworth, exiting the interstate to arrive at the farm, which had a little white farmhouse, as cute as a button with a wide front porch.
Thom tooted the horn twice as he rolled up the gravel drive, waving to a very pregnant woman with a cascade of brunette hair.
“That's Katherine, my brother Gael's wife,” Thom said. “They live in the carriage house.”
Mae noticed a GMC truck attached to a silver bullet airstream camper. She pointed at it. She didn't want to assume anything at this early point.
“My sister Kimbrae and her husband. They bring the camper to stay in since they have a dog,” he said, “a really weird looking damned dog which comes in the house anyway, but hey, they don't have or want kids. The dog is it.”
Thom parked the vehicle and instructed her to leave everything in the car for now. He led Mae to the front entrance of the home and tapped on the frame. He smiled as a head full of grey hair appeared at the small window in the door.
“I have a key, but Aunt Sue also has a shotgun named Henry. I knock so there are no misunderstandings,” Thom said as the door opened.
A petite woman in a housedress answered the door with a warm smile and a big hug for Thom. He hugged her back, then stepped to the side. He pulled Mae forward.
“Aunt Sue, this is Mary Weston, who has agreed to be my wife,” he said. “Mary, this is Aunt Sue.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mae said, offering a genuine smile.
“Pleasure, Mary. Thom, you're late. Go wash up for lunch; you too, sweetie,” she said, pushing them towards the bathroom.
When they exited the bathroom, Mae noticed a man and the woman Katherine coming through the backdoor.
Thom passed out hugs as he introduced Mae, bringing her into the sunny, bright dining space.
A black man, who looked like a college history professor, entered from the kitchen carrying a platter of fried chicken.
Mae tried to hide her surprise when a black woman carrying a basket of rolls and a bowl of mashed potatoes followed behind him.
She smiled at Mae, blew a kiss at Thom, and disappeared, returning with a bowl of peas.
“This is lunch?” Mae asked, looking at the heavy meal.
“Yes, I have to spend the next two hours on the back of a tractor tilling soil, mixing in mulch, and preparing the beds for fertilizer tomorrow,” Thom said.
“Everyone, this is Mary. Mary this is my brother Gael, his wife Katherine, my sister Kimbrae, and her husband Dr. Peter Brown, no relation. Everyone, this beautiful woman has agreed to be my wife.”
He grinned from ear to missing ear as everyone, only said, “Hmmp.” Mae didn't know what that meant or how to take it, so she left it floating in the air. Everyone joined hands, Gael blessed the food, and plates were filled. She waited for the first question, which came from Gael.
“Mary, what is it that you do?”
“Please, call me Mae, and I'm responsible for the corporate giving department for the railroad,” she said.
“We have programs and projects which focus on education as well as sustainable projects like community gardens in neighborhoods where homes too close to railroad tracks make the areas uninhabitable. The gardens bring in a sense of community.”
“Oh wow,” Kimbrae said. “And the education portion?”
“There are 101 counties in Illinois. We adopt one school per county each year and help meet their needs with fundraising or sometimes much needed repairs like new gym floors, sporting equipment, and whiteboards, and in one case, the salary for an additional teacher.”
“Sounds very rewarding,” Katherine said, rubbing her belly.
“It was until about six months ago, and now, I am looking at what can be next for me,” Mae said.
Katherine asked, “What happened?”
Mae explained the shift in energy at the company. She also mentioned not wanting to overreact, and maybe she was being highly sensitive.
“My daddy always said if the bees are buzzing loud, the queen is in danger,” Katherine said.
“I suggested she go in on Monday and quit,” Thom said.
“If, after everything she's helped them build, no one wants to stop the bullies from closing in, then leave. They are going to truly appreciate what she did for the organization when she is no longer there to make them look good. I think she can start her own business or non-profit. If she did it for them, she can do it for herself.”
“Thom, easier said than done,” she told him. “Those forms of initiatives need a great deal of legwork, manpower, and a cause that no one else is championing to make work. I just don't know if I have it in me right now to start over, and if I'm starting over, I want to do something I enjoy.”
Aunt Sue asked, “Thom, is she your mail-order bride?”
He was halfway through a yeast roll when he stopped and looked at Mae. He shook his head slowly, holding up his hand. A swig or three from the lemonade to wash it down came next.
“No, she's not,” he explained. “I had three candidates who came to see the house you told me to build, Aunt Sue, as well as the museum. It was horrible. I kid you not, it was like Goldilocks tries Tinder. The first one was just mean. The second one had too many hobbies, and her plan was to have lunch with me, then meet with the beekeepers, the stamp collectors and the local ghost hunters.”
“And the third?” Kimbrae asked.