With A Twist(74)

Now, I’m not so sure, since the prospect of another interview is causing only some mildly happy feelings, and I’m much more concerned with finding a nice place for Wyatt and me to meet.

Yes… Annapolis is the perfect place for us to get together, and I’ll have to verify with him in the morning when he can get away so I can get it planned.

I know we can make this work.





Chapter 23





Wyatt





I pull up to my sister’s house in downtown Edenton, North Carolina and parallel park on the street. Aubrey married a small-town attorney by the name of Chester Plum… I kid you not… and they live in a gorgeous, pre-Civil war home just a hundred yards off the Albemarle Sound, and a little over an hour away from Nags Head.

It was mandated that I attend Sunday dinner at her house, and since Andrea and I couldn’t get together this weekend because she had to work, I decided not to rock the boat and spend some time with my family.

I’ve seen my parents a few times since returning to Nags Head after the slave bust went down. They only live about two miles from me so it’s easy to get over to visit them. Not so easy to get over to Edenton to see Aubrey though but today’s trip was warranted. My parents and my other two sisters, Lacy and Jillian, are going to be there along with Lacy and Jillian’s husbands and an entire boatload of kids.

My sisters didn’t waste any time getting married. All three of them are older than I am and were fine only to aspire to be a good wife and mother. While Lacy went to college, her arts degree has gathered dust since that time, and now they spend their days shuffling kids to soccer practice and making nice, southern homes.

I know I sound like I have little respect for that, but that’s not true at all. In fact, my sisters are all beautiful and loving women. Their husbands adore them, as they should, and their kids are wonderful. They lead damn good lives, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

While Lacy and Jillian live in the Outer Banks, I don’t get to see them as often as I do my parents. It’s just because work keeps me so damned busy, that if I have free time for visiting, it’s usually to see my parents. I’m lucky though, as sometimes they’ll be over visiting as well.

But today is a day for a Banks family get together and Aubrey is hosting. I step through the white, picket swinging gate that borders around Aubrey and Chester’s cream, bricked home. The front of the house faces the street and has a small, covered porch only big enough to walk up to the door. But along each side of the two-story home, they have sprawling, veranda-style porches filled with glossy, black-painted rocking chairs and large ceiling fans to stir the humid air. Baskets of trailing petunias hang over the railing to create a peaceful space to relax in on a warm, summer evening. I head up to the porch on the east side of the house, because the door on that side leads into the large, open-air country kitchen. I know that’s where the family will be gathered.

Just as I reach the door, three of my nephews come barreling out, one of whom clocks me in the hip and yells out, “Sorry, Uncle Wyatt,” before disappearing around the side of the house.

“Hellions, all of them,” I hear from the door, turning to see Chester standing there.

Now, as a small-town attorney, it’s apparently mandatory that you wear seersucker suits, straw hats, and silk bow ties when working. Chester does this to perfection. But when the man relaxes, he really relaxes. He greets me in a pair of frayed khaki shorts with a chocolate stain on one thigh and a threadbare Boston Celtics t-shirt that has a large hole under one armpit.

“Hey man,” I say as I walk up the steps.

“Welcome to family day,” he says drily as we shake hands. “Come on in… I’ve got beer.”

I walk into the kitchen, and I am immediately assaulted with the smell of baked ham and sweet potatoes. A whirlwind of remaining hellions circle around me, grabbing onto my legs and hugging my waist. After all the nieces and nephews are appropriately patted on the head, all except for Jillian’s littlest… Annie Lynn… who insists on staying wrapped around my lower leg, I make my way over to greet the rest of the adults.

For the next ten minutes, I shoot the shit, sip on some beer, and lug around Annie Lynn, who remains attached to my leg. We talk about Chester’s law practice, Lacy’s book club, and Frank—who is married to Jillian—fills me in on his latest business venture… which is apparently an antique store that’s for sale.

When dinner is finally served, we all sit around outside at large tables Chester and Aubrey had set out and covered with white tablecloths. The sun starts to set, and although it’s on the opposite side of the house, it doesn’t stop the Albemarle Sound from turning orange in the dying light.