Shaking The Sugar Tree Part 51 Online

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"Are you really that political that you wouldn't get married until it's legal here?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'd have to think about it. It doesn't seem right, but maybe I'm being foolish."

He seemed to recover a bit of the wind in his sails.

"All right," he said. "Let's get engaged. And when gay marriage becomes legal in the state of Mississippi, then we'll get gay-married in the state of Mississippi. And I'll wait for you. However long it takes. Until then, we'll just be engaged and the whole world will know we're waiting for history to catch up with us. One way or the other, Wiley Cantrell, I want to be by your side the rest of my life. So what do you say?"

He held out the ring again.

Noah offered a bright smile as he watched.

I hesitated for a long time. Ridiculous as it was, I had never imagined that Jackson Ledbetter or anyone else would ever propose to me. I hoped. I dreamed. But I had never allowed myself to believe that it might actually happen. A defense mechanism, perhaps, to avoid the pain of hopes being dashed. But there it was. And now that Jackson had asked, now that he was kneeling there with a ring in his hand and looking at me, I did not know what to say.

What's wrong, Daddy? Noah asked. Noah asked.

I don't know, I admitted. I admitted.

Don't you want J. to be my daddy?

I lowered my eyes.

He moved closer, refusing to be put off.

Say yes, Daddy, Noah urged. Noah urged. Say yes and then we'll be a real family. Say yes and then we'll be a real family.

"Well?" Jackson prompted.

I turned to look at him; the sight was rea.s.suring. Looking at Jackson Ledbetter, I knew I'd do just about anything he asked me to, and probably a whole lot more. Somehow I knew there weren't that many men in this world who could make the b.u.t.ter slide off my biscuits. I'd never find anyone else like him ever again.

"You need to ask my son's permission," I said.

He turned to Noah: I want to marry your dad. Is that okay with you?

Do you love him as much as I do? Noah asked. Noah asked.

You know I do. I love him very much. And I love you too. I want us to be a family.

Noah grinned from ear to ear.

So do I have your permission? Jackson asked. Jackson asked.

You can't be a doofus, Noah warned. Noah warned.

I won't be, Jackson a.s.sured him. Jackson a.s.sured him. So... what do you say? So... what do you say?

Noah nodded.

"Good deal!" Jackson exclaimed.

They turned to me and Jackson held out the ring again.

"So what do you say, Wily Cantrell?" Jackson prompted.

"I don't know," I said. "What's in it for me?"

"What's in it for you?" Jackson asked, outraged.

"You want me to marry a d.a.m.ned Yankee who smells like the cologne counter at Belks?" I asked. "Surely I have a right to expect something more."

"Don't call me Shirley," Jackson said. "You're going to marry this d.a.m.ned Yankee and you're going to be happy."

"You gon' shake my sugar tree?" I inquired.

"And then some. And if you don't put this ring on your finger, I'm going to kick your Confederate a.s.s right up between your shoulder blades."

"I could use my b.u.t.t cheeks for Mickey Mouse ears," I pointed out.

"Come on, Wiley," Jackson said. "Will you marry me?"

"I can't afford to buy you a ring like that," I said.

"Which is why I also bought this," he said, retrieving another package and displaying it.

"You know I don't believe in D-I-V-O-R-C-E," I said.

"Stop stalling, Wiley," he replied. "Will you, or will you not, be my husband?"

"I reckon I will, Mr. Ledbetter," I said. "I do indeed."

"Yes!" Jackson exclaimed, putting the ring on my finger and kissing me full on the lips, so hard and so pa.s.sionately that Noah put his hands over his eyes and giggled.

Afterward, as Jackson and Noah got busy setting up the new Xbox and trying out their new games, I sat on the sofa and watched my two men, a ridiculous smile on my face that wouldn't go away.

Maybe things do do change in the South, I thought. Or maybe all we could do was change ourselves and hope the South would eventually catch up. change in the South, I thought. Or maybe all we could do was change ourselves and hope the South would eventually catch up.

I picked up my phone and called Mama.

"You'll never guess," I said.

About the Author.

NICK W WILGUS grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in a variety of small towns in Michigan. The child of an alcoholic father whose drunken binges left the family in constant poverty, Wilgus ran away at age fifteen and joined a right wing religious cult, but was eventually rejected and shunned because of his s.e.xuality. After living on the streets, he was taken in by an Italian family. He eventually put himself through school and has lived and worked all over the world, including almost two decades in Bangkok, Thailand, where he worked as the chief subeditor for the Bangkok Post. grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in a variety of small towns in Michigan. The child of an alcoholic father whose drunken binges left the family in constant poverty, Wilgus ran away at age fifteen and joined a right wing religious cult, but was eventually rejected and shunned because of his s.e.xuality. After living on the streets, he was taken in by an Italian family. He eventually put himself through school and has lived and worked all over the world, including almost two decades in Bangkok, Thailand, where he worked as the chief subeditor for the Bangkok Post.

He sold his first short story to The Horror Show The Horror Show when he was seventeen, and has since published almost a dozen novels and a screenplay. He was nominated for a Lambda award for his first gay fiction t.i.tle (2003) and also received a Best Screenplay nomination by the Thai Film a.s.sociation (2012) in addition to being named one of the best general columnists in Mississippi (2011). when he was seventeen, and has since published almost a dozen novels and a screenplay. He was nominated for a Lambda award for his first gay fiction t.i.tle (2003) and also received a Best Screenplay nomination by the Thai Film a.s.sociation (2012) in addition to being named one of the best general columnists in Mississippi (2011).

He currently lives in Tupelo, Mississippi, birthplace of Elvis.

Website: https://sites.google.com/site/wilgusworld/home Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WilgusWorld

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