As noted, Tree and Barb would talk over her options. She drank wine and smoked Madame Wu’s while Tree indulged in Seagram’s and Marlboros. It was a nice day to sit out on the deck. As Barb talked she loosened up a lot. By the way if you wonder how Tree ‘sort of’ won his court case the black judge in Arkansas is Gunner’s cousin. He doesn’t like rednecks any more than the blue state professor. He is hoping marrying Tree would so abhorrent to Barb she would choose 7 years in the Hooker, Oklahoma Reparation farm as a breeder and milk cow where he is a plantation master and could use her at will. Let’s join Barb and Tree at the Tree estate…
I hold my wine pretty well. The longer I drink the longer Tree does… well he would have drunk anyway. I have to keep him talking so I find out what the undisclosed option three is. I don’t let on that I would marry him before considering going to the reparation farm. In my undergraduate studies at the UVM I did an ‘internship’ and vowed never to be mounted to those infernal machines again. But in the in the art of the deal you never tell your opponent what you will or won’t do. I even lie to saying I would rather have my fine breast be treated as udders and have strangers impregnating me before anyone could call me ‘Mrs. Tree’.
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He tells me I could go by my maiden name. Isn’t he such a progressive? You would never know it by looking at him. I’m not getting anywhere quickly on ‘option #3’. I think I need to help my odds. Start slow I think. I feign that I am getting warm and lose my top and a bit later the lacy bra. I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglass but I damn well know where they are locked.
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I inject little nudges into the conversation that he could give me a hint about the third option but he is too thick to get it. At one point he glances away. I look but don’t see much of anything but trees. I excuse myself saying “I have to powder my nose.”
“You can piss off the deck if you want.”
“Thanks but no thanks” I reply as I walk into the house. Passing through the kitchen I see a glass door with a padlock and maybe 25 sets of car keys hanging from pegs. If I can get in it I can sneak out tonight and get to my blue state. I rummage through the drawers and find a meat tenderizing hammer. I beat on the glass but it holds. Tree yells from the deck “It’s a half inch thick bulletproof glass, Barb. Don’t hurt yourself!”
Shit! I didn’t think about the windows being open! I use the restroom and return to the deck knowing a fine pair of tumescent breasts isn’t going to get me the information I want. I’ll need to redouble my efforts. I think I am getting both drunk and stoned. I walk around the back side of Tree’s chair to steal a glance at both the wet spot in the crotch of his pants and look up to what he was glancing at earlier. I couldn’t see it from my angle but from his you can see a path that leads to the Hill of 100 Crosses™. I can see a few of the empty crosses through the narrow clearing. It is chilling sight but at least I have a good idea what option #3 is. I go to the bar and pour yet another glass of wine forgetting I have not had a bite to eat since yesterday. I light a Madame Wu, sit in my chair, and look at him asking “ So my choices are becoming a human cow, a trip to the hill, or marrying you?”
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“If that’s what you think, Barb.”
“What is a ‘Northwest Arkansas style wedding’” I ask.
“It is more formal than you would guess. The groom wears a tuxedo an the bride a white wedding dress which will be sort of ironic considering your ongoing affair with Goldman. There are groom’s men and brides maids that…”
“Do I get to choose my bridesmaid?”
“Of course; there are a few other nuances but you can handle them” he replies.
“What if it doesn’t work out” I ask.
“You clean me out of half of what I own and head back to your blue state” he says.
Barb’s mind is made up. She isn’t about to go to the reparations farm and won’t even consider the Hill of 100 Crosses™. Barb gets rather drunk and loosens up more as the night goes on.
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The wedding is held in mid-September. Tree hires the judge for the ceremony, a lawn care company to dress up the place, and hires the caterers and the tent company that has served so many crucifixions.
Her bridesmaids, Siss, Messa, and Erin, help Barb into her wedding gown…
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…after doing whatever girls do when left alone! They pose for their traditional NW Arkansas wedding pre-ceremony photograph.
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The ceremony is pretty normal until it is almost over. The preacher says “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may grope the bride!”
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…and he does! I’ve had enough to drink I really don’t care. I hear the elderly lady behind me to my right exclaim “I do love traditional weddings.”
Yes I married Tree. After the ceremony we pose for our pictures under the real hanging tree.
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Tree turns out to be less an ogre than I thought he would be. I quit wrecking his cars once I figured the car could be mine some day when I divorce his ass. Then something happened I had not counted on. I am carrying his baby!
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I am so mad at both him and me! But he hired a professional photographer to make a portfolio of my ninth month.
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…He really better than ‘not bad’…
Barb Moore –Mrs. Tree…
Thanks for watching this tale and to the star, Ms. Moore
It’s really over…
Tree
