Page 41 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

“That’s hard work you’re smelling, sweetness.” Ranson winks.

“Hard work smells like stinky fish.”

“It’s killing me that I can’t hug you.”

“Take a thorough shower, where you get every inch of you clean, and you can hug me all you want. Hell, I’ll even let you hold me in your arms.”

“Bet.” He smiles.

Lyric

Lyric takesanother bite out of a piece of fried bass, and it’s heaven. She looks over at Ranson, who is laughing and joking with Jamar and Big Head. Having him here at first felt like she was doing him a favor; taking him away from his family drama and allowing him to relax and have a good time with her people. But it’s quickly become apparent that his presence has been amazing for her too. Unlike Jamar, she rarely has brought a man to a family gathering. She mainly brings the girls. None of them could make it this trip, but bringing Ranson has been a wonderful experience. Even if he did get caught stealing moonshine for Gigi.

“Eunetta, is the cobbler almost ready?” Cerese asks.

“Just about. Speaking of which, girl, you know who I was thinking about?”

“Who?”

“Ms. Franny. You remember her? We used to head over to her place in Tupelo and get her blackberry and peach cobbler.”

“Girl, I still have dreams about that.”

Ranson looks over at the ladies and looks like he’s in shock.

“Ranson are you okay?” Lyric asks.

“Yeah, uh … Mrs. Fuqua?”

“Ms. Cerese, baby. There are a lot of Mrs. Fuqua’s here too.”

Ranson chuckles. “Of course. This Ms. Fran you’re talking about, did she have a husband named Roosevelt?”

“She sure did!”

“Those are my grandparents!” Ranson exclaims.

“No kidding? You know you look a little like Mr. Cobbs now that you mention it. Lyric, did you hear that? Your man’s people are from Mississippi.”

“I was born and raised there.” Ranson puffs out his chest with pride.

Record scratch! This is too much information to ingest.Ranson is Southern.And my momma and auntie knew his grandparents?

“You’re Southern,” Lyric says, stunned.

“Yes ma’am,” he says with the return of his twang.

“But the Hamilton kids were all born and raised in LA,” Lyric replies.

Ranson gets up and offers her his hand. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.”

Lyric takes it, and they walk away hand in hand from the family, wandering into Uncle Doc’s large garden.

“Man, Patrick would love this.” Ranson beams.

“That’s the guy you’re introducing to Aimee?”

“Yep, and he’s very excited to meet her. Iintroducedher to him as ‘the good doctor’ as per her instructions.”