Free Outcast by Lewis Ericson Page A

girl he slept with. It would have only exacerbated the situation.
    Tasha shut off the ignition. Tirrell faced straight ahead.
    â€œYou know it’s hard for me to open up. I’m not good with sayin’ I love you, you know that. My mom and Noonie are the only ones I could ever say it to and mean it.”
    â€œIt’s not the same thing, Tirrell.”
    He looked at Tasha. “I know it’s not the same thing, but I still have a hard time sayin’ it. I know I fucked up, but I don’t wanna lose you. I know what you wanna hear, but I’m not ready. Give me some time to figure all this shit out. I know I’m askin’ for a lot. If you can’t . . . If you don’t want to . . . I understand.”
    Tirrell’s vulnerability was disarming—his eyes even managed to tear. She kissed him softly on the lips. He followed with a more passionate one.
    â€œWhat are you going to do now?”
    â€œBelieve it or not, I got a job down at the garage with Marquis. It’s not the Army, but it’s somethin’.”
    â€œYou’re gonna have to tell Miss Betty soon.”
    â€œI know, but not yet.”
    â€œShe’s gonna get suspicious when it’s time for you to go back. What are you gonna say then?”
    Tirrell shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe by then I won’t be so scared of the truth.”
    Tasha stroked his cheek. “Thank you for at least telling me.”
    â€œDo you wanna come in? There’s some peach cobbler left from yesterday.”
    Tasha looked up toward the house. “I don’t think I need anything to eat. I’m too big as it is.”
    â€œStop doin’ that. You’re not fat. I wish you wouldn’t put yourself down. There’s nothin’ wrong with you, girl.” He leaned in and kissed her again. “C’mon, we’ll be quiet so we don’t wake Noonie up.”
    The pair got out of the car and headed hand in hand into the house. They found Betty reclined in her favorite leather chair perched in front of the television. The opening door startled her awake and the TV Guide slid off her lap to the floor.
    â€œWell, look a’here,” she said, clearing her throat. She readjusted her reading glasses and sat up.
    â€œNoonie, I’m sorry,” Tirrell said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it, baby.” Betty smiled at Tasha. “I guess everything is all right with you two.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Tasha responded.
    â€œI invited Tasha in for some cobbler,” Tirrell added.
    â€œOh, well let me go warm it up for you.”
    â€œYou don’t need to do that, Noonie,” Tirrell insisted. “I can get it. You should go on to bed. We’ll try not to make too much noise.”
    Betty yawned. “Well, all right. I guess I will. Y’all eat as much as you want, hear? There’s a little bit of meatloaf left in there, too.”
    Tirrell kissed his grandmother on the forehead. “We’ll manage. You get some sleep, okay?”
    â€œGood night, baby.”
    Betty gave Tasha a hug and squeeze before retiring to her room. Tirrell turned off the television and he and Tasha went into the kitchen.
    Tasha leaned against the counter, smiling, as she watched Tirrell fill two bowls with heaping spoonfuls of cobbler and pop them into the microwave. He turned and noted the expression on her face.
    â€œWhat?”
    She shook her head. “Just watching you. I can see how much you love your grandmother and I can see how much she loves you. I know if you told her what happened she’d understand.”
    Tirrell shook his head in disagreement. “I’m just not ready to deal with it.”
    The beeping microwave interrupted the emotions that started to well up inside him. He pulled a carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer and topped the steaming delight with a scoop.
    Sitting together quietly at