We emerged from the bedroom to find Dice in his kitchen putting away groceries. “Oh, let me help,” I said and hurried over to give him a hand.
“I can handle it,” he said.
“I’m sure you can, but I want to help.”
“Thanks.”
“I was thinking I would make breakfast for dinner—scrambled eggs, bacon, grits, and pancakes. Is that okay with you?”
“That sounds great, but you don’t have to cook for me.”
“I enjoy cooking, and it’s my way of thanking you for letting me stay with you.”
“You’ve already thanked me.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’ll keep doing it. It’s just the way I am.”
“Do you need any help with dinner, or would you rather I stay out of your way?”
“At the risk of sounding rude, I’d rather you stay out of my way.”
Dice chuckled. “No problem. I know some of the old ladies get downright ragey if someone enters the kitchen when they’re cooking.”
“It’s definitely a thing. I have no idea why it happens, but it does.”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll leave as soon as we’re finished with the groceries.”
Once the groceries were put away, Dice left the kitchen. I put in my earbuds and got lost in an audiobook while I was cooking.
An hour later, everything was ready. I proudly carried the platter of food to the kitchen table and called for Dice.
“Finally,” he said. “That smell’s been making my stomach growl for the last twenty minutes.”
We sat down to eat, and I waited with bated breath as he took his first bite. “Mmm,” he groaned. “This is delicious.”
“Thanks,” I beamed. “I’m glad you like it.”
“If there’s enough left, I’ll take a plate over to Ink when we’re finished.”
“You guys seem pretty close. How long have you known each other?”
“Twenty-something years? We’ve been friends since we were teenagers.”
“Oh, did you go to high school together?”
“Not exactly,” he said in a way that made me think I might have ventured into a topic I shouldn’t have. Instead of asking another question, I waited to see if he would continue. To my surprise, he did. “What do you know about the history of the farm?”
“I know there’s a contract that prevents it from being sold outside of the family, but that’s about it.”
“Before Phoenix inherited it, a man named Octavius was running it. Octavius was not a good person. In addition to running the farm, Octavius was involved in guns and drugs. To staff his operation, he loaned money to people he knew wouldn’t be able to pay it back and made them come work for him when they couldn’t. As in, he sent men to their homes and brought their whole family to the farm at gunpoint. They weren’t allowed to return home, or even leave the farm property, until they had worked off their debt. I was sixteen when my family was brought in. Ink arrived with his parents a few weeks later.”
I stared at him with a look of complete shock on my face. Of all the possibilities, I would have never guessed they met in such a traumatic way. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. To both of you. We don’t have to talk about this.”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “This isn’t a bad story. Being brought to the farm ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to explain that, because it really sounds like you and your family were kidnapped and held hostage at a labor camp.”
“To put it bluntly, my parents were pieces of shit. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother liked pills. Neither one of them could keep a job for more than a few weeks. We were constantlymoving from one shithole to the next. I’d been taking care of myself since elementary school. So, I didn’t think it was all that bad when my parents were taken to one part of the farm, and I was sent to another. I had my own room, a comfortable bed, clean clothes, and plenty of food to eat. The only things they expected of me were getting passing grades and staying out of trouble. For me, living on the farm was an upgrade.”