JUST ANOTHER GEORGIA ROMANCE
by
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1951 · April · The Outskirts of Relee, Georgia
“This must be love.”
She almost whispered but mostly breathed the words upon his chest.
She lifted her cheek and turned her eyes into his face, conscious of the draw of her nakedness along the bareness of his ribs.
“Oh, Nora,” he answered softly.
“I always wondered how love would be,” she murmured as the flush of passion faded from her abdomen. She felt it now dew-like; settled, silken perspiration, upon her breast. She pushed herself further into the mold of his arms and kissed him. “I always hoped love would make me feel like this. I always hoped it would come like this.”
Her lover embraced her¾impulsively, anxiously.
“I love you, Nora. Oh, God! Please know that I love you.”
He dropped his lips upon hers and kissed her longingly. She kissed him with matched ardor. His passion accrued again at his thighs. He kissed her, this time, ferociously.
She feigned shyness and tore her lips away. Her deep blue irises peered playfully into his rainy gray ones, and she laughed.
“On the other hand, maybe this little yellow Studebaker is to blame. It’s perfect for a Georgia romance; its convertible top just screams for indecent exposure; and with that long circular chrome nose that reminds me so much of your beautiful . . . .” She giggled. “I’m so naughty! Oh! I’ve never behaved in such a way. Yes. This must be love!”
He laughed. She studied him for a moment, her lips pursed.
“And you make it better because you’re so handsome and so smart. Do you really think one day you might leave
“What about
“I’m certain of one thing: you’ll be rich someday. You look the part; your shirts starched; your trousers crisp; your shoes shined¾and that gorgeous gold watch.”
He shook his head and smoothed back the wave of goldened brown at his temples. He gave an embarrassed chuckle.
“When I hear my vanity admired by someone else, Nora, I feel so ashamed. I say to myself: Maybe I don’t know what I do.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I . . . I don’t. Not always. That’s part of why I brought you here. We came to talk, you remember?”
“Yes. To talk to me, you said. But since you first made love to me
Formats Book Details The Book
Beulah, Georgia, 1951, the leather back seat of a tulip-yellow Studebaker—therefrom springs the story of four romances from four generations so impassioned as to change lives and to endure lifetimes; indeed, to endure still; to repeat, blossom, succeed, as everyone, everywhere, awaits Just Another Georgia Romance. This short novel allows no single of its four love stories to stand alone, though each is so singular, so intensely personal. The central one—begotten by the other three—tells of Natalie Merrywell and Blake Davis who meet upon the floor of the Merrywell Tobacco Auction Warehouse one sweltering August afternoon. They do not remotely know the secrets they carry as they fall more deeply in love from the moment of their first encounter to novel’s very end. Nonetheless, neither the Montagues nor the Capulets of Shakespeare’s pen hold an edge up on the aversion the Merrywell and Davis families experience when they discover the love between their handsome and talented offspring. They fail to realize that their mandate to end this modern-day relationship comes much too late; that it cannot be ended, only stilled. About J J Garrett
J J Garrett is a product of Georgia. He is a novelist, a poet, a researcher, and an educator. He holds a Ph.D., M.Ed., and B.A. from various Georgia colleges. He has lived in and traveled most of the U.S. and Central America. He has consolidated his search for lore into six novels and seven chapbooks of poem (now in anthology) with a resolve to return literary fiction back to Planet Earth. He is married; has too many animals around the house.
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