Chapter 7
“That was some good fishing today. We caught more than I expected.”
“We did. I didn’t expect to catch any.”
Willow teased Tommy about his fishing once they were back at his place for the evening. He really did catch a lot of fish. A lot more than Willow remembered her dad ever catching. There had to be about thirty or more fish in his cooler, and he wanted her to help him clean them so he could fry them up.
Fried fish and grits was one of her favorite meals. Growing up in the south, that was a staple for her and her family. Especially when her grandma came over to show her parents how it was done. Her grams would open them up, clean them, fry them up real good, and set them against some of the creamiest cheese grits ever.
“Dang girl, who taught you how to gut a fish like that?”
“I’m not just some pretty face, you know?” Willow laughed. “I grew up near the water. I’ve been cleaning and gutting fish almost my whole life. I know how to fry them up too.”
He seemed to fall for her even more after hearing that. The fact that she wasn”t afraid to get her hands dirty made him hot for her too.
“I’ve never seen a woman who wasn’t afraid of some fish guts,” he laughed. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, there’s a lot more to me than you think. Fish guts is just the start of what I can do.”
While Willow scaled and gutted, he rinsed and seasoned the fish with what he called his “infamous blend”. Whatever spices he had mixed together smelled good even before the fish hit the grease. Once they were all cooked and they got the fish guts all cleaned up, they went inside to shower so they could eat.
In her shower, Willow thought about how great of a day she had had with him. It was the most fun she had in a long time. She felt like she had said that before about Monica, but hanging out with Tommy was more fun than that—maybe because she liked Tommy on a more romantic level than she did Monica.
After her shower, Willow came out to an empty kitchen. Tommy was still upstairs showering, so she took it upon herself to find the ingredients she needed for her granny’s cheese grits and got the flame going. She wanted to surprise him when he came down, you know? Show him she could cook too.
“You making grits?” he asked as he came into the kitchen. “I must say Willow, you are really one of a kind. Most women I know are so scared of ruining their figure, they’ll stay away from anything with carbs in it.”
She laughed so hard at that because it was true. Brandi was one of those women. Anytime they went out for a night of fun, she always had to replenish her caloric intake by eating nothing but keto meals.
“That’s the truth,” Willow said. “Nearly all of my friends back home are on the keto diet. They all tell me I”m lucky to have the metabolism I have because I never gain much weight, but eat whatever I want. I tell them it’s because I”m always so stressed and depressed.”
A lot of things came out whenever she talked to Tommy. It amazed her how open she was with him, because she was never like that with anyone. Not men, anyway. Willow saved all of her secrets and worries for her closest friends. And even they only got half the story.
Tommy and Willow sat at the table that evening laughing, eating fish and grits, and reminiscing about old times in their lives. He told her more about his friendship with Charlie and how they met Mark, too.
Mark was a terrible guy. Seemed to have always been. Charlie wasn’t so bad in the beginning, according to Tommy. It was only when he met Mark that he wavered and started to take that dark turn. But even still, nothing could have been said or done to make Willow forgive him for the betrayal he caused her.
“You still keen on that divorce?” Tommy asked.
“Very much so.” She glared at him sternly. “Nothing will change my mind about this guy. I don’t even know him for crying out loud.”
He looked perplexed for a moment. Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take another step further with her because of the relationship he once had with Charlie. To be honest, it made Willow angry.
“Why do you ask?” she questioned. “Are you thinking there’s some hope for us?”
“Us?” his eyes peered into her. “You mean… you and Greg?”
She did mean her and Greg. Charlie. Whatever. But when she thought about the way he took her question, she wondered if Tommy thought there was hope for them in the future.
“Yeah,” she said. “Greg. Whatever his name is.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Lots of women say they’ll get a divorce but even when they move on, there’s still some sort of connection she has with her old life.”
“Well, believe me…” Willow said. “I’m done with him. There won’t be any connections. No lingering or harboring old feelings. I want nothing to do with him ever again in life, and the sooner he’s found and my divorce is final, the better. I couldn’t be more serious about that.”
There was a shimmer of hope in Tommy’s eyes that evening. They didn’t even talk about Charlie for the rest of the night. Instead, they laughed about how well Willow could gut a fish and enjoyed cold brews on his deck while they watched the stars.
“I’m getting sleepy,” she said. “I think I”m gonna call it a night. You’ve had me out all day.”
“I did, huh?” he chuckled. “I guess I could use some sleep too.”
He followed her up the deck, back into the house. Their arms brushed against each other slightly as he turned to close the sliding glass door behind them. Willow felt a spark, and she was sure he did, too, because when she turned to say goodnight, he finally pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss that she had been waiting for all day.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s fine,” she smiled. “I wanted to.”
She went to bed thinking about his kiss. His lips were so soft and full of passion; she wanted to crawl into bed with him. Willow felt like she tossed and turned the entire night because she yearned for him so badly.
When she couldn”t stay asleep, she got up in the middle of the night and roamed the hallways of his home. Everything was so nice and orderly. There wasn’t a single item out of place. He reminded her a lot of the way her dad used to keep their home. While Willow and her were the slobs, her dad was a clean freak whose life was run by his OCD.
She chuckled at the old photos of him and his fishing buddies she saw hanging on the walls. Tommy was a real character before his marriage took a toll on him. Willow was the same way. She hated how two people whose lives were so full of life and love had the unpleasant experience of marrying people who drained that life right from their being.
She thought about what her life would have been like if the times had changed and she had met Tommy years ago instead of Charlie. Willow probably would have been happily married and settled down with the children she wanted to have. He may have been better off, too.
During her midnight stroll, she stumbled upon Tommy’s home office. It was dark, except for a single candle he left burning. It sat on the large oakwood desk in the center of the large room. There was a picture underneath the candle. It was a picture of his mother.
“Aww,” she said, lifting the picture from its placeholder. “I wonder what she was like.”
Remembering the times when people wrote messages on the backs of pictures, she flipped it over and sure enough, there was a message there to be read. She felt like a creep for reading it, but she read it anyway.
My dearest son. My only son. The light of my life. I wish you all the success in the world when I”m gone. May you meet a woman as strong and resilient as you are, who will be able to shower you with all the love you so deserve. Live on, my sweet child. Love always, Mom.
P.S. may she be as great at making your favorite country fried chicken as me.
That message brought tears to Willow’s eyes for more reasons than one. It was a sweet message that reminded her of her own mother’s gentle touch. It also made her sad for him. Knowing his mother had passed on and that picture of her was something he cherished so much made Willow wonder what kind of pain he was holding inside.
The following morning, she woke up earlier than he did. She did it purposely so that she could make him breakfast—the same way he had for her. Instead of making a traditional spread, Willow decided to do something a little more intimate.
She whipped out some of her gram’s old recipes and made him a real southern spread that was full of love, inspiration, and devotion. Biscuits and gravy made from scratch, a side of country fried chicken, and cheesy eggs with freshly squeezed pineapple orange juice. The country fried chicken had the place smelling so good that Tommy nearly slipped down the stairs coming to see what Willow was up to.
“Good morning.” Tommy came into the kitchen just as she sat his place down on the table. “I thought I”d do something nice for you this morning. Since you’ve been keeping me company.”
His eyes were wide and his mouth even wider. He looked astounded but also a little sad. Willow knew it was because the dish she made was one of his favorites from his mom. She just hoped he liked it as much as he did his mother’s.
“This is my favorite,” he said. “My…”
His words got caught in his throat, but Willow already knew what he wanted to say. His mom used to make it for him. She paid close attention to the note his mother left for him and thought it might have warmed his heart a little more to have it again.
“My mom used to make this for me all the time,” he continued. “It’s been a while.”
“I hope I”m as good a cook as her. I haven’t made this in a long time either. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was a kid.”
It took him a minute to lift his fork and finally dig in. When he did, it was as if the summer breeze set sail on his heart and brought him back to every single memory he had with his mom. Willow almost cried when he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair to savor the feelings he felt at that moment. She knew it had to be breathtaking.
“Wow.” He pointed his fork at his plate because he couldn’t speak. “This is amazing. Wow. Tender. Juicy. Flavorful. And this gravy! You made this all by yourself?”
“I did.” Willow laughed. “I had to take a peek at my grandmother’s recipe, but for the most part, that’s all me.”
“Amazing,” he said. “I’m almost ashamed to say this, but this might be better than what my mom used to make.”