Free Stones in the Road by Nick Wilgus Page A

most expensive restaurant in town, which was not saying much, in the grand scheme of things, this being Tupelo, Mississippi, birthplace of Elvis, but even so it was way out of my league. Any place that charged four dollars for a glass of water was beyond me and probably always would be. And who in hell would pay four frikkin’ dollars for a glass of water?
    Mr. and Mrs. Ledbetter seemed perfectly at ease, as did their son. Noah and I looked like butt-scratching hillbillies seeing the sights in the Big Town.
    I put the menu down, suddenly decided.
    “I think Noah and I will be on our way,” I said, standing up.
    “What on earth do you mean?” Mrs. Ledbetter demanded.
    I held out my hand to Noah, the look in my eyes saying that it was time to leave. He did not question this look, merely stood.
    “I’ll leave you to it,” I said. “Y’all have a good time.”
    “Wiley, what the hell?” Jackson demanded too loudly.
    “I’m not comfortable here, and I would like to leave,” I said to him. “I’ll see you later. Or not. At this point, I’m not sure I care.”
    I took Noah’s hand and marched off, my face burning with a flush of embarrassed blood.
    “Wiley, wait!” Jackson called.
    He followed us to the front door. I went outside and stood on the sidewalk, trembling with an unaccountable anger. A troop of motorcyclists passed, and I glimpsed the Confederate colors on more than one shiny metal surface.
    “Wiley, please,” Jackson said, taking my arm.
    “Noah and I are going home. Care to join us?”
    “I can’t leave my parents just sitting there. It would be rude.”
    “And your mom—she’s not rude?”
    “She is what she is.”
    “And what is that?”
    “When you figure it out, Wiley, you let me know. I’m the one who’s had to listen to that for almost thirty years.”
    “Obviously she doesn’t like me, so what’s the point?”
    “She’s never liked any of my boyfriends.”
    “I thought I was your only real boyfriend.”
    “I mean, any of the boys I ever dated or brought home. They’re never good enough. And for that matter, I’m never good enough for her. Never have been and never will be.”
    “She has no right.”
    “She has every right. Don’t you know who my mom is?”
    “You’re assuming I care.”
    “Her father was a senator.”
    “So?”
    “Her mother was a wealthy heiress.”
    “And?”
    “She was an only child, Wiley.”
    “And this is important because…?”
    “Man, you are dumb about some things.”
    “Am I really?”
    “Yes, you are. I’m an only child too, Wiley. Where do you think that money is going when she dies?”
    “I’m sure I don’t know, and I’m sure I don’t care,” I said.
    “I stand to inherit a rather large fortune… and you don’t care ?”
    I was surprised by the look of desperate, almost angry earnestness on his face.
    It was safe to say that I did not stand to inherit much when Mama died. Maybe a truck, or a couple of the four-wheelers, or the china she received when she married Daddy. I did not come from money, did not understand how some people could be so wealthy when all I ever saw were people scraping by and barely surviving.
    “Is it starting to sink in now?” Jackson asked. “You and me? Getting married? Me, only child, only heir? You, thanks to gay marriage, possible son-in-law? Noah, my parents’ only grandchild? Are you starting to see the picture?”
    “So you might inherit some money,” I said.
    “Well, duh,” he said.
    “And what has that got to do with me?”
    “Do you think my mom is going to leave her money to me if she doesn’t approve of my life partner?”
    I did not respond to this right away. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I thought. I was extremely offended but couldn’t put my finger on the exact reason why.
    “Please, Wiley,” Jackson said, pulling on my arm. “I told you this was important to me. Come back inside. Sit down. Make nice. Do it for me.”
    “I’m not letting your mother or anyone