Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

geez. I'm sorry. I didn't know anybody was— my momma's gonna tan mah hide over this the very next time when I go home." His dark eyes couldn't possibly open any wider. Peter's pa had turned, startled, and now stood with his camcorder still trained on the young man standing in the doorway looking as though he might bolt at any moment. Peter nudged his pa.
    Stepping forward around his parents, Peter stuck out his hand. "How— er, I mean hello. I'm Peter Jenkins. You must be Marcus Wiggins." The other boy jerked his gaze away from Peter's father and the camera to meet Peter's eyes. "Ah, yeah. Marcus. That's me." He took a half step forward into Peter's personal space, leaning in to whisper in an urgent undertone. "Brah, I'm sorry. I didn't know your parents were here. My apologies."
    Peter gripped his hand a little more firmly. "It's alright, man. Appreciate if'n you could apologize ta Ma though."
    Marcus nodded, and stepping back, turned to Mrs. Jenkins. "I'm very sorry ma'am. My momma'd take a switch to me if she heard what I said in front of you."
    Mrs. Jenkins held out her hand, laughter in her eyes and tone. "I reckon I've heard worse outta Peter over the years."
    Mr. Jenkins belatedly recalled that he was recording the whole interaction, dropping his camcorder to his side and stabbing a finger at the off button. He stepped forward as well. "No harm, son. Are them what they call dread-locks?" He pointed at Marcus's hair. Peter smacked his own forehead, and Mrs. Jenkins smacked the back of Mr. Jenkins head. "Ezekiel Alfonso Jenkins!"
    Marcus laughed. The white of his teeth shone in a startling fashion against the dark chocolate of his skin. Peter had played ball with several black fellows on the high school team, and he'd asked Mitzy and Lisabeth a whole lotta questions about what you could and couldn't say to a black person. They had admitted to not knowing everything, but Mitz, as usual, got right to the heart of the solution.
    "If you don't know, just ask them politely, Peter. If you start out by saying you don't know and go on to explain about where you grew up, they'll probably treat you like you're an exchange student or something. And then they'll tell you how to be polite."
    Peter dropped his head forward, shook it once, and then looked up to meet Marcus's eyes. "Marcus, you'll have to forgive us. Me and my folks, we lived in Appalachia all our lives until about a year and a half ago. There's a lot we ain't never seen before, and we don't mean no harm, just sometimes we're a little… well, truth be told, a lot ignorant. If'n I say or do something to offend you, please tell me so's I can learn how to be more polite."
    Peter's pa gaped at him. His ma got teary eyed, turning and hiding her face against her husband's shirtfront. Peter's gut filled up with rocks and baby black racer snakes, all writhing and tumbling up together. Marcus looked faintly alarmed.
    Peter's pa broke the slightly awkward silence which had fallen, turning with his wife still cuddled up against his chest to clap a heavy hand down on his boy's shoulder. "Son, I've never been prouder of you. It takes a man to admit he don't know something; and to ask them as does to teach him, well, that takes a good man. I 'bout busted when your coach put you in to play first string for your high school football team. I was prouder still when you graduated with honors from that fancy high school and got accepted to a college. But I don't think— no, I know— I've never been prouder of you than I am right now."
    His pa stopped talking then, jerking Peter forward into a rough three-way hug with his ma snuffling all over his neck. His new roommate still stood, wide-eyed by the door. Marcus opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to get any sounds to come out.
    "Ah… okay? I didn't know that was a real place. I thought they made it up for that Beverly Hillbillies movie." Marcus's absolute sincerity shone in his face, and Peter couldn't help snorting with laughter.
    "Well, I reckon we'll both have a sight to learn over the next few months then. I'm Peter. Nice to meet you." Peter stuck his hand out of the tangle of arms and bodies he was stuck in with his folks, just as if he hadn't introduced himself before. Marcus snorted, finally stepping away from the doorway to shake Peter's hand.
    "I'm pleased to meet you, Peter. I'm your new roommate Marcus, and I think we'll get along just fine, Brah." Marcus grinned at Peter, gripping his