The Honey Sweet Tea & Sugar Club

Fran didn't particularly like the people around her. Or the fact her supposed friends like to gossip behind her back because, even though they were old as old goes, they still enacted their younger selves.

Despicable, all of them. Fran thought.

Minne, the old prune beside her, flashed her a sugary smile. Fran didn't reciprocate but looked at her. Being the leader never suited Minne, because despite being aged, Minnie's dark complexion makes her look like she was still in her forties. She is an example what the kids called, "black don't crack."

Fran wouldn't have liked to agree, but she couldn't be the fool. Besides, she was one of the oldest here. She has the right to think and do whatever the hell she wants.

"Alright! Woman of The Honey Sweet Tea and Sugar Club," Damn, Fran missed being called that, the word woman had such a youthful tone. "We have a special guest coming today! And I want you to keep all your old eyes glued back to the seat as the guest is as fine as sweet tea."

Even Maria laughed, her eyes glazed over as her small, crippled body shook her wheelchair. She was looking the wrong way. 

Fran rolled her eyes.

"Now, now, hush down! Before he comes, let's go over some rules. Because Lord knows how we are goin' to act."

A flutter of giggles filtered throughout the room. Followed by multiple coughing fits. But that did stop Helen—a woman whose sexual life is more active than all of them put together—from saying:

"What are rules when we are this old?"

"Yeah, Minne, you know we don't need none!" Another said.

"Come on!" And another.

Fran didn't mind listening as more protests came. Because as far as she knew, if she was sitting on her porch swing outside with a cup of sweet tea, all was fine.

Watching Pearl suddenly getting up, get a cramp, then be helped down, made her distracted enough not to notice the gentleman standing beside her with hands in his pockets. And indeed, was he a gentleman when, Fran, seeing the abrupt silence and stares at her said:

"What on God's green Earth are you looking at me for?"

Putting a finger to his lips, he leaned down beside her and said, "How well you look on this fine afternoon." 

Fran jumped, and nearly pulled a muscle, as she turned around to see a man, in his early seventies with neatly kept white hair and bright blues for eyes. She couldn't believe she was finding him attractive in the least, but realizing what he said, the little flame burnt out instantly.

"And just who do you think you are?" Said Fran with a hand on her chest.

"The man of your ladies' dreams, I hope?"

A cascade of giggles weaved throughout the porch, even Maria did. Fran whipped her head around, crossing her arms, finding her a unmovable rock if any tried to move her. She couldn't help it when she felt blood rush to her cheeks, even more so when Helen pointed it out. Fran's hands fisted tightly.

"Well, you joined us earlier than expected, Mr. Hampshaw! Why don't you take a seat and introduce yourself?" Waving a handout, Minne warmly welcomed him.

"If you don't mind it, then," He looked to Fran and her mostly empty bench. She looked the other way. "Do you mind if I sit next to you?" 

Fran did and said nothing.

Taking that as a yes, he plopped himself down right next to her.

Fran squeaked.

But Mr. Hampshaw didn't seem to notice her discomfort as he then put an arm on the back of the swing, and stretched out his legs. 

"Call me Hugh," Fran could see Helen drooling from here. "And as for an introduction, you can say I lived on a boat for most of it. Hell, I was even born in one." An echo of oohs and ahs filled the room. He was going to need more than that to impress Fran. "And I traveled around the world. Seeing the most beautiful lands and women might I say. But none as pretty as all of you here today!"

And on and on he went, talking about trips that made any mother gasp. Or times where he thought he was lost in the belly of the ocean, dark waves pouring out over and under him and hanged onto his boat, La Sirène. Which she knew was French and translated to The Mermaid.

How original. Fran thought to her herself, her body still tense.

He also told of times where he was kidnapped by tribes deep in the Amazon, as they thought he was the white devil, which was startlingly similar to what Fran was feeling at that moment. And of another time where Hugh had to lie to a drug lord so he can escape alive, he reassured everyone he wasn't. Fran wouldn't be surprised in the least if he was one at this point.

Then, Minnie pestered someone to get him a drink. Maria almost made a move to do, if it weren't for Pearl's speedy recovery and movements, Helen would be there in a second. And thankfully, there was a moment of silence before he said to her in a low voice:

"What is your name?"

Well, Fran couldn't avoid him now, as he was looking straight at her and no one else. She sighed.

"Fran. And-" She was almost going to say: and yours? But that was stupid, she already knew his name.

"And?"

"I didn't say that."

"No? I was so sure-"

"No."

"Fran And. A very nice name." 

A moment passes. Then another. 

He lets out a heavy sigh.

"When was the last time you went on an adventure Fran And?"

Her lip reeled back, "You little-" Then, getting a look from Minne, she tries to relax. "If I said no, would you stop bothering me?"

"Maybe but probably not."

"You are such a child, my grandson acts better than you." 

"And your husband?" He said and looked over at her.

"He was a true man."

"Was?"

"Dead."

"Ahh, dead is becoming a common word these days."

Fran looked over to see if Pearl was done yet. She was still choosing a cup. Dear God, how long will she take?

"And your adventure?"

"What?"

"You didn't answer my first question."

"Oh," that caught her off guard, "only one." She looked down.

"Please do tell, your life sounds more interesting by the second."

"I will not."

"Where were you?"

"Nowhere."

"How fascinating! What happened in nowhere?"

Fran found Pearl farther along as she now held a clear cup in hand and started to set it down in front of the pitcher. Which was nearly empty. Fran wanted to groan. She had to find a way out of this conversation, so she played along.

"I ran from the police."

"What did you steal?"

Maybe not. Fran's jaw dropped and didn't pick it back up until she asked, "How did you know?"

"I just do," Hugh smirked back.

"Well, I was in Paris, and naturally, I wanted a vase from my flowers. But I couldn't speak French well since I just moved there. So when I went to buy my vase and some other things in a little corner store, I didn't realize I forgot to pay until it was too late. Soon, I was being chased by the police."

"Do you miss it?"

"The police?"

"No. The rush of it all? Making mistakes and loving them?"

"Well, I wouldn't say love-"

"But not worry?"

"Yes," She smiled, a little one. Hugh saw and did the same. "There is such little weight to everything then. I could make a wrong turn and find myself not regretting it."

"I couldn't agree more. Especially after the death of my wife."

That snapped her back straight. "Oh, I-"

"Didn't know? It's fine, that is behind me now. As of all of my mistakes are."

She opened her mouth, trying to find the words, but couldn't find any. Fran found that they shared more in common than she had with any other woman here. But just as she was express to that, Pearl came with a cup of sweet tea.

"Here is your sweet tea Mr. Hampsh- I mean Hugh." She gave a little laugh before he gave her a nod. Then reluctantly, she found her way back to her seat.

Hugh, smiling at Fran, took a sip of the sugar-reduced sweet tea and made a face as if it were made of lemons instead. 

He leaning closer, whispered to Fran, "This is just cold tea."

And, heart hammering in her chest like a girl again, Fran said, "I know." Then gave out a little laugh as he went into a fit of laughter.

And for once, she thought she found someone to smile and laugh with again.