Our checkout time was 11:00. We didn’t leave the room until 11:30. Today was Nick’s day off, and we had no plans. I suggested that we go to a movie, but the choices Andalusia had were not in our interest. After getting some more Sweet Tea from Hardee’s, we headed to his home in Red Level.
Today was the day I saw Nick for the first time outside, in the sunlight. There was something about it that made it special. I don’t know why or what. I mean, it’s not like he looked much different, because he was a very beautiful man – but something about the sun and Nick really made me see more of his beauty in detail – like his beautiful eyes. I could look at this man forever, no matter what time of day, and be completely satisfied.
I have always loved riding in cars, even when there wasn’t much to see out the window. This ride was especially nice, because I had his hand in mine. Every now and then, he would lean over and kiss me.
Andalusia is a town with a population of 8,000. Red Level, on the other hand, is a town of about 8 – or so it seems. Nick decided to take the scenic route, which consisted of trees, a few houses, and more trees. We passed by an old post office that was active in the 1800’s, but now looked like an abandoned shack you’d see in horror movies. I’d be seeing more of these “horror movie” settings in my Red Level visit.
I don’t know the actual facts as to why the place is called Red Level, but I can only assume it’s because of the fiery orange dirt with red tint all over the roads. There were also lifted levels where this dirt was visible, so apparently, this was not man-made dirt, even though I would have thought it, because I had never seen dirt this color before.
After taking me on a semi-tour, Nick decided to head home. We pulled up to a house I was not expecting to see. I guess I had to remind myself that I was in the South, let alone miles from civilization. I grew up in suburbia, as well as living in urban settings for most of my life, where there is a distinct difference in the way houses are built. His house was wooden, as opposed to the cemented homes I was used to. Still, the house was nice. Don’t ask me to describe it in detail, because I’ve never been good at those things.
We made our way inside, where I would be meeting Daphne, his mother – my future mother-in-law – for the first time. I wasn’t exactly nervous, as I’ve had to deal with many mothers before, but, at the same time, I didn’t know what to expect. Nick had “warned” me about her, but being that I had a mother, too, I felt confident enough that I would be able to handle any situation thrown in my direction.
There was no introduction, nor was there an immediate acknowledgement. She knew that I was coming, but, I felt that I was just a friend who had been over the house many times before, as if she was accustomed to my presence without the obligations of saying “Hi”. It didn’t bother me, as I never expect anyone to put on heirs, nor would I want them to. Nick went up to her and handed her a Clove cigarette.
“I don’t want no goddamn joint!” was the first thing I heard her say. She was on the phone with her friend, and spoke with him for a bit. This friend was a long distance relationship that was going on two years. He told her that I was making him look bad by giving Nick a diamond engagement ring. Of course, they were laughing about it, and I, myself, had no need to justify the importance of my relationship with Nick, so I laughed with them. I sat on the chair next to hers, Nick sat on the floor next to me, and when she got off the phone, she started in on the questions.
Not five minutes into the conversation, she asked me if I drank.
“No”, I told her, and then she proceeded in telling me about the supposed drinking problems her son had.
This was something that Nick had warned me about – that she would start talking down about her son. But no matter what she said, I knew Nick, and knew that it was not as bad as she made it out to be.
“He knows the story, mom,” said Nick. I looked over at him, and sensed his tension. Holding his hand, I began to rub his fingers in a sense to let him know that it was okay – even though I knew no matter what I did, I would not be able to ease his stress.
After talking for awhile, Nick and I got up to put the dishes away before heading out for a walk in the woods.
He lived about a mile away from a river, and I thought a walk would be nice. We trekked through uneven ground and humidity while fighting off horseflies swarming around us.
We got close to the river, but not close enough to get to the bank. We noticed what looked like it might have been a moccasin trail, and since I’m deathly terrified of snakes, we decided to head back to the house.
We were sweating profusely, and swatting away at the horseflies, but still found a few moments to take some pictures.
Despite the inconveniences, I have to say, I was really enjoying this time spent with Nick, and though I cannot say I favoured these moments over any other I had with him, I can say that I will never forget this walk – and I’m not saying that because of the pictures.
We got back to the house, and Nick wanted to stay outside for a bit. So, we sat on the porch sidesteps, took more pictures,
and talked some more. I told him that as much as I would hate living miles away from civilization, being with him would make it all better.After about an hour or so, we went back in the house, where I chatted some more with his mother. The two of us were getting along just fine, and I figured there might be an exception to the rule of her not liking anyone her son was with.
Nick and I decided to go out to eat, and since his mother rarely left the house, it would just be the two of us. He suggested a place in the next town over – Georgiana.
It was a restaurant called the Kozy Korner, and cozy – it was everything but. There were things there that made us laugh, which turned it all into a fun experience, like the fact that the table numbers were actually taped on a piece of paper on top of the table. We sat at table #3. Then, there were our waitresses – the fake friendly type. None of the three waitresses were genuine, as they came off as young stupid bitches that exist in every town in the U.S. Still, we got a laugh when one of them came over to the table and said:
“Y’all’s is ready to order?”
Okay, say “Y’all’s is” out loud, and you’ll hear how funny and awkward it sounds at the same time. So, now Nick and I have an inside joke that we will share for the remainder of the trip.
Then, we notice something that really put this restaurant in a different place than all restaurants I had ever been to. They actually had the Ten Commandments hanging on the wall. To this day, I cannot nor will I ever understand what the Ten Commandments and eating fried food have anything to do with each other.
Nick and I ordered Fried Green Tomatoes as appetizers. They were slightly inconsistent, but they tasted alright. Ms. Y’all’s-is came back to our table with a pitcher.
“Ya’ll want some more tay?” she asked. She meant tea, of course.
She refilled our glasses with sweet tea, and a few minutes later, our food came. I had ordered my steak medium rare. It came out Well-done. Being a waiter, myself, I’m not one to complain, or send things back, even though I should’ve, because it seemed that our being there was an inconvenience to these waitresses, taking them away from their regulars in the town that they knew. Nick had to remind her of my sweet potato fries that she never brought out. I also had corn nuggets on my plate.
Nick had the seafood platter – fried shrimp, stuffed clams, and fried catfish, with fried okra and French fries. That’s the thing I noticed about the south; everything is fried. If you can eat it, you can fry it.
I had never had catfish, so Nick gave me a piece of his. I’m not really a fish lover, but I had heard that catfish is good. It really wasn’t.
The portions, however, were huge. Neither of us could finish our meals, so we asked for to-go boxes, which Ms. Y’all’s-is seemed to be annoyed with having to get us.
I did not have any cash on me, so I went up to the register to pay with my debit card while Nick went out to the car.
“Oh, I’m sorry”, said Bitch #2, “we don’t have a credit card machine? But we’ll take a check.”
I told her that I had no cash or checks, and she pointed me to an ATM machine at the store just down the street. Since Nick had already walked out, I didn’t know what to do. But Bitch #2 told me to go on ahead.
I walked outside to Nick, who was standing at his car, and told him that we had the opportunity to dine and dash. Being that he lived so close, he did not want to attempt it. I understood his point, despite the thoughts going through my head that I could save thirty bucks.
I went to the store, and just my luck, the ATM was out of service.
“It doesn’t work”, said an employee behind me.
“Y’all know where there’s one that does?” I asked. I do say y’all, being from Florida, but that still didn’t disguise the fact that I was an out-of-towner.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
She then went on to direct me to the nearest ATM. Luckily Nick was from around the area, because I have always had the tendency to tune out directions. I can’t explain the reasons as to why – I just know that my brain automatically shuts off when the words “left” and “right” are used in more than one sentence.
We went to the other place with the ATM, which did not take my debit card. Twenty minutes later, we found a bank that did and we made our way back to the Kozy Korner.
“There they are!” I heard Bitch #2 say to Bitch #3, who was looking out the window for us.
“Oh good”, said Bitch #3. “I told them they all shoulda taken your Rolexes.”
My instinct wanted to throw up my empty wrists and say “Do I look like I’m wearing a Rolex, bitch?” But, instead, I explained to them about the uncooperative ATM’s, and realized halfway through that they weren’t even listening.
Ms. Y’all’s-is took my money, and I tipped her four bucks. Had the service been a little better, and I had been less aggravated, I would have tipped her more.
When I got in the car, I told Nick that I had tipped the waitress.
“You tipped her?” he asked.
“Yeah”, I said, “four bucks.”
“I tipped her!” he said. “I left her six bucks!”
Now, in any relationship I’ve ever been in, this would have blown up into a huge argument. Instead, with Nick, I just had to laugh, because it didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve told you I left the tip.”
This really made me smile. I had never been with anyone who apologized like this. Still, it was a simple mistake, and despite the fact the undeserving bitch made ten bucks off of us, there was no anger towards each other in this situation - (with my exes, it would have been my fault.) – and was just another realization of many that this was the right guy for me.
We got back to the house, and sat in the living room with his mother, watching TV, while she ate her dinner. Nick’s PDA comfort level in front of his mother was surprising to me. At the same time, it made me very comfortable touching him. As I sat in the chair, he sat on the floor, in between my legs. I put my hands on his chest, as he raised his up, holding me – my chin resting on the top of his head. He kept asking me if I was uncomfortable in my seating position, but the truth was, I was most comfortable. All the while, I was holding a conversation with his mother.
She asked if we were planning on having children and mentioned that she wanted a granddaughter. I told her that Nick and I wanted a little boy. I could see the disapproval in her face as I was telling her this.
After awhile, Nick decided to go take a shower, which left some time alone with Daphne and I. She asked me if I had gone to school. I told her I didn’t, and that I had dropped out. This started her on her son. “My Nick-las” she would call him.
“My Nick-las is going to finish school.” (I told her I was very supportive in that and any other choice Nick wanted to make with his life.)
“My Nick-las is not moving out of here. If he does, he is never coming back.”
“I’m going to put a trailer next door, and my Nick-las is going to live there.”
I didn’t exactly realize it at that moment, but, basically, she was telling me that I could not have her “Nick-las”.
When Nick got out of the shower, it was my turn. As the water poured over my skin, Daphne’s words began to effect me. It’s amazing that a simple conversation started working a number on my head, in the worst way. So, I began comparing my previous mothers-in law, along with my own mother to that of Daphne.
I had experienced two mothers-in-law prior to her, and I realized that no one is ever good enough for a mother’s son, especially at the beginning of a relationship.
With all of my long term relationships, I had been warned at the beginning that their mothers had never liked anyone that they had been with, yet, I was always the exception to the rule.
In my last relationship, his mother and I did butt heads from time to time, and she didn’t like much of my personality, just like I didn’t like hers, but, for the most part, we had gotten along.
With Daphne, I got the sense that she did like me, but I also sensed her concern for her son. That is understandable. Witnessing failed relationships always leaves room for doubt in a newfound one.
All in all, when my thoughts came together, my fears began to surface as I came to the conclusion that Daphne will not let her son go.
After my shower, I went in the bedroom. Nick came in, and I expressed my fears. He told me not to worry about her, because he does what he wants to do, anyway.
Nick and I laid in bed, talking for a bit before engaging in sexual activity. Tonight was different, because every simple touch felt so good. I guess I had loosened up, because his hand brought me to ecstasy in ways I had never been before. My body was very sensitive to his touch, and I was more vocal than normal. I just hope to God his mother did not hear me.
When we were through, we talked some more, and then watched a movie. Towards the end, Nick started falling asleep, as he was tired. When the movie was finished, I wanted to keep him up for a bit, so I suggested we smoke a cigarette. This was my way of keeping him awake and with me for a few more minutes, being that my time with him was so limited.
Two minutes after the light was off, there was a knock at the door. Nick got dressed and left the room only to come in a few minutes later. He told me to get dressed and go in the living room to chill with his mother. She was freaked out because she saw someone on the porch messing with one of her chairs.
Like being in a horror movie, I wanted to go outside and check out the situation, but they both told me that that was a bad idea. Personally, I’ve always been bold like that, and being that I’ve always felt there was something watching over me, I’ve never been truly scared of venturing into the unknown – unless there were snakes involved.
Daphne was whispering for fear that they might still be out there, and refused to turn on any of the lights. Nick was hungry, and went in the kitchen to cook us our leftovers – all the while, in the dark, with nothing but a nightlight to guide him through the reheating.
We sat on the floor, eating our food, when, all of a sudden, Daphne decided to turn on some music to scare any predator that might be out there, away. So, at 2:30 in the morning, at full blast, Jay-Z’s “Izzo (H.O.V.A.)” was blaring out of the speakers. I turned to Nick, and we both started laughing, as Daphne walked into the bedroom.
“You really can’t make this shit up,” I said to Nick, and we laughed.
Daphne walked out of the room, carrying her gun, which made this even funnier to me. Talk about nothing to do in Alabama, this experience alone brought something new and different to the whole situation.
When we were through eating, we all went to bed and turned in for the night.
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