ALABAMA PINES—JASON ISBELL

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September 16th, 2015
High Valley Farm
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"Now hold a cotton pickin' minute. It sounds almost like yer sellin' yer soul to the devil," she interjected.

Morgan and her mother sat beside each other at the table, scouring through the contract.

She agreed that the terms laid out were a bit off-putting but unlike her mother, she was hooked on her potential salary. They wouldn't just be able to pay the backlog of rent but also buy the property outright. Her family would be set for life.

"I'm surry pumpkin, but this is wonky. I got a strong feelin' in the ole Berta." Her mother flipped through the pages. "What's that say?" she asked.

Because her mother was illiterate, she struggled to understand most text and had become reliant on Morgan and her father for most things.

Morgan slid the binder closer and read aloud. "Duties and responsibilities asked of the second party by the employer are an obligation and should be fulfilled."

Her mother was quick to shake her head in disapproval. "I don't know 'bout this. It's best to keep a-lookin'."

Sighing, she nodded and closed it shut. "Alright, ma. If ya say so."

Morgan felt a bit pessimistic in her endeavors. She had a job offer in front of her that paid more than what they could ever have hoped for and still, her mother was telling her not to take it. As if there were many more options out there. There weren't. Nobody wanted to hire a woman whose only experience was tending the fields.

Not wanting to go against her mother's wishes, she decided to drop it and instead focused on a worry-free night with Rhett. Like the good old days.

"I'm gonna get dressed," she told her mother, pushing off the table.

"Well, Imma be here. Probably goin' to watch me some westerns 'til yer father gets on home," she said with a sigh. "Ya have fun, alright?"

Morgan nodded, gave her mother's shoulder a squeeze, and headed to her room.

Rooting around her closet, her body danced to the tune of her stereo as it blasted country rock. She fluttered around her room, hauling things on until she was all dressed up and ready for a dinner out with Rhett.

• • •

By far the best barbecue in Shelby County, it was unsurprising that The Shed was packed with large crowds of hungry customers. Most were young families, too tired and stressed from work to make a home-cooked meal.

The Shed was a country-style restaurant with a flair for musical entertainment. Most of the bands that played ranged from either amateurs and music enthusiasts to undiscovered artists looking for their next big break. In any case, it was all the rave in Pelham; a home away from home.

"Howdy folks, welcome," a hostess cordially greeted as they walked in. "Party of two?"

Rhett nodded and as they were led down the aisle, he took Morgan's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her heart did a double beat as he smiled over at her. She missed holding his hand. They slid into a booth in the back as the hostess handed off the menus.

"Yer waitress should be right with ya shortly."

Left alone, Morgan skimmed through the menu, though she never ordered anything other than the beef brisket. It was just a natural habit of hers.

"Whatcha gonna get?" she asked.

"I was thinkin' the Tri-Tip Platter."

Morgan chuckled and shook her head. Rhett was a true southerner. Former bull rider, football fanatic, and steak lover, he was as country as country gets.

A waitress in a cowgirl get-up with clanking boot spurs sauntered over to them.

"Howdy, I'm Rory, I'll be yer waitress for tonight." She paused as she did a double-take. "Rhett, is that you?"

Morgan looked between Rhett and the waitress out of curiosity as his face lit up.

"Look what the cat drug in. It's been a long time. How ya been?"

"I'm finer than a frog hair split four ways," she jested.

As they both shared a laugh, Morgan watched in silence. She had been with Rhett for two years and had never heard or met this woman before. She trusted him, but she couldn't deny that she felt a bit concerned about what type of relationship they had in the past.

"Rory this is ma' girlfriend Morgan, darlin' this is Rory. She's one of the best mechanics in Alabama and tough as a pine knot."

Rory shook her head, her braided pigtails swaying under her hat. "Oh, hush up. Sayin' that, yer gonna get yerself into a brawl." She turned to Morgan. "Howdy, and nice to meet, sweetie."

"Hi," Morgan said back with a sheepish smile.

Rory had to be a couple of years older than herself with hair as dark as a crow's feather and eyes just the same.

As she pushed up against the table to allow a server to pass by, Morgan caught a glimpse of a sobriety necklace hanging through an unbuttoned part of her vest. When Rory saw her staring at it, she was quick to tuck it back in and deflect with a cough.

"So, what can I get y'all?"

Ordering their food and drinks, they waited for their server while listening to the soft thrum of a guitar. By the time their drinks came out, Rhett had become distracted by a toddler at the next table over. He looked adoringly at the red, plump cheek child, pulling faces in the hopes of making her laugh.

Morgan had been quietly observing them, smiling whenever he would get a small giggle out of her.

"I can't wait to have one of ma' own." Rhett grinned, turning back around to face her.

Morgan and Rhett had been abstaining from sex until marriage. It was partly their choice and partly her family's belief system, though her parents never pushed it on her. Children had always been on her timeline, and she wanted nothing more than to have his child, but it was the marriage part that was holding them back. Without that question, a future between the two could not be made.

"Darlin' did ya hear what I said?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked to Rhett's large hand cradling hers.

"'Bout children?"

He chuckled. "Well, yes and no. I asked if I could take ya to Blue Water after dinner."

Morgan beamed, her cheeks throbbing from all her smiling. She loved going to the oasis. It was an everyday attraction for most scuba buffs, but for the locals, it was much more than a simple diving spot. It was an escape. A rich and beautiful escape.

"I'd love that."

• • •

After having passed the deserted parking lot in front of the facility building, Rhett took it slow down the trail leading to the water. It was pitch dark and the only light source that brightened the road came from the Bronco's high beams.

As Morgan peered out of the window and to the pine forest, she thought back to all of the high school parties that took place at Blue Water. One's that she never enjoyed but went anyway.

"Reminds me of high school all over again," she noted sarcastically.

Rhett chuckled but kept his eyes trained out on the road in front of him.

Both of them were graduates from the same high school, only a class year apart. Even during his teenage years, Rhett was charming and charismatic. He was popular not because of sports but from how likable he was. Morgan, in contrast, was quiet and reserved. She kept to herself most of the four years.

They were very much an unlikely pair, and it was only after high school that they met one another at a country nightclub. A scheming set-up that led to a blooming love between the two.

"Just like how I remember it," Rhett sighed as the lake came into view.

She surveyed the waterline, the moon casting a sheen on its surface. Not much had changed over the years besides a newly built dock.

Pulling up to the water, Rhett shut off the engine but kept the music playing. He reached in the backseat and brought out a blanket and a case of beer.

Morgan couldn't stand the taste of alcohol and she was relieved to see that he later pulled out a ginger lemonade. Her favorite.

They laid on the hood of the Bronco, sipping on their drinks and cuddling close in the wool blanket.

"So, whaddya think 'bout what I said earlier?" Rhett asked, speaking over the reedy vocals of the music.

She looked over at him puzzled. "Whatcha say earlier?"

"'Bout children. How many would ya want?"

She smiled and rolled her head over to look up at him.

"Two. I'd want two boys."

"Really? How 'bout this. One boy and one girl?" he countered with a quirked brow.

Morgan double countered, "How about one boy and then later . . . one more boy."

He snorted. "Two boys and one girl?"

She mused over it and realized she loved the sound of it. Two roughhousing boys and a pigtail little girl. It was perfect.

"I like that."

He grinned and pulled her close, kissing her temple. They both turned their eyes back to the starlit sky before Morgan spoke up.

"Whatta 'bout the military?"

Rhett looked back at her. "Whatta 'bout it?"

"When we have little youngsters runnin' around, will ya still serve?"

It was a loaded question and she knew that.

Rhett was a very patriotic man. He loved his country like one should, but that love often times eclipsed over his judgement. She didn't want him to miss out on portions of his children's lives because of the wrong kind of love.

"I don't know yet," he shrugged, using his arm as a pillow. "We'll take it by ear."

Rhett suddenly hopped off the hood of the truck, it squeaking from the shift in weight. He held out his hand to her.

"I want to show ya somethin'." He urged, "Come on."

Her forehead wrinkled inquisitively as she slid her hand into his. She followed behind him as he led her down the dock and closer to the water.

"What're ya doin'?" she chuckled.

"Have a look." He gestured.

Nearing the end of the dock, she peered down into the lake that held her rippled reflection. Her eyes squinted through the dark as she saw a wooden box drifting in the water.

"What in tarnation," she said bewildered, kneeling down.

She scooped it up and shook away the water dripping from it. Twisting it around in her hand, she tried to find a way to open it but the box was sealed shut.

"Open it," Rhett encouraged.

"I can't," she said, biting her lip as she put all her might into it.

"Ya sure?"

"As sure as eggs are eggs."

"Dang it," he sighed, taking it in his hands and getting in a power struggle with it. "This was supposed to be romantic."

Morgan giggled as he began to sweat and he tossed her a lopsided grin.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I got it. Almost there."

He grunted a few more times, twisting and pulling at it before finally popping it open.

"Gosh," he groaned, wiping the water from his brow. "I'm as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

Morgan couldn't help but smile big when she saw him take a knee and her eyes glinted when they landed on the ring.

"Morgan Blaire, would ya do me the great honor in becomin' ma' wife?"

This was one of the easiest questions for her to answer in her whole, entire life.

"Heck yee-ah!"

Copyright ⓒ 2019, Desarae A Dotson. All rights reserved