Chapter 15

Mr. Bell was waiting inside the store. He smiled when he saw me, stuck out his hand and said, "Shake." I waited for him to tell me what he wanted but he just motioned for us to head outside, so I followed him.

We walked to a new Chevrolet Suburban. It sparkled in the sunlight and the inside was just as clean. Mr. Bell seemed to have every possible accessory and the car was so clean it looked about two days old. He saw me admiring his ride and said, "I bought this to carry things back and forth from the marina, and discovered I liked it so much, I almost never get my Caddy out of the garage, anymore.

"Mother loves the Caddy, so she drives it to her hair appointments, the women's meetings and our country club, for lunch with her ladies, while I drive this beast. You like steak, son?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," he said. "I asked your mother for permission to take you out to lunch and she was agreeable. We're going to have us steak at Mama's Place. She's been in business so long, she's like family. Hell, she might as well be family for as nosy and opinionated as she is all the time. You'll like her and she'll love you. I promise.

"We are on a bit of mission, son. There's a man I want to meet you and I'd like him to meet you just as you are, so I'm not going to tell you anything about him except that he'd like to meet you and have lunch with us.

"Let it be just what it is and I promise to tell you all the details after. OK?" What? I wasn't going to argue. Not likely.

"Yes sir." Mr. Bell was about fifty, with a fringe of gray at the temples and perfect posture. He dressed the part of a southern lawyer and carried himself with the dignity of a southern gentleman.

We drove in silence to Mama's Diner. Seriously - Mama's. I remember David Brenner joking that you should never eat at a place named Mama's and never take a waiters suggestion after ten p.m. That joke was on my mind as we walked in and seated ourselves.

The place was well worn. There were old photos and even older posters around the dining room, which gave it a friendly, homey kind of feel. There was a smattering of people having lunch but it was not crowded. A woman, who had to be the famous Mama, almost ran out of the kitchen to greet Mr. Bell and I watched, amused as she hugged, kissed, hugged again, kissed him yet again and exclaimed over and over how happy she was to him.

When her joy was finally fulfilled, Mama turned to me and demanded Mr. Bell tell her what he doing out with such a beautiful young boy. No kidding. She actually referred to me as – beautiful, young and a boy. At least she got the young and boy part right.

"This, my dear cousin, is Mr. Brian Morse. He and his mother are new to Branson and they are among of our most valuable clients. Please treat him as if he were one of our family so he doesn't go home and speak evil about me, tonight."

Mama turned her gaze on me and with just a hint of warning in her tone said, "You best not be speaking evil about Jim Bell, boy. He is the closest thing to a wise man Branson has and anyone you tried that shuck on, would slap the stupid right off your face. Jim is one of the brightest, most talented, kindest and sincere people we have in this town and you best be on your best behavior, if you know what is good for you." She was working up a good head of steam and Mr. Bell decided to derail her, quickly.

"Cousin, young Brian and I are going to have Mama's special. You know how I like my steak and what to put with it. Brian, how do you like yours?"

I smiled at them both and replied, "Medium well, please ma'am, with chips and creamed corn. Thank you very much." Beth Ann would not like to hear I forgot my manners.

"Oh, Jim. I swear I'm having a case of the vapors. Imagine a boy with the manners of a perfect gentleman. You have pleased me so much that I may just have to adopt you, young man." She was pleased and her face showed it. Mr. Bell must have been her favorite cousin, because she mothered him from the moment we arrived and harassed the cook and bus boy, unmercifully trying to please him.

"Millie sends her regards, Martha and if you'll excuse us, this is a working lunch. I have to get this young fellow back to work on time, or answer to my brother."

Martha wasn't falling for any of that. "Jim, there ain't no way you're taking orders from Hank and you darn well know it. Hank and Coulter are more afraid of you than they were of your mama and that's saying something. So don't run that shuck on me.

"I'll get back to my kitchen when I feel like it and not one second before but you two have your lunch meeting and I'll be around to make sure everything is fine."

She hustled off towards the kitchen just as a man pulled out the chair she relinquished and sat down. Mr. Bell nodded and got a nod in return and both men seemed content to sit quietly. I wasn't sure what we were doing here, so I stayed silent and waited to see what developed.

Martha came back before long, took the new man's order and drifted off without a word. That seemed strange and I was looking forward to having it explained by Mr. Bell, later. When our iced tea came, we enjoyed the first sips of cold tea and then Mr. Bell opened the meeting.

"Brian Morse, meet Charley Hillman. Charley, this fine young man is none other than Brian Morse." He inclined his head and we exchanged greetings. That out of the way, I waited, patiently. Charley Hilman was younger than Mr. Bell, but not by a lot, rough and ruddy. He seemed like someone who was as comfortable at a bar fight, as he was at Sunday School. He looked like he was used to working hard and his hands had seen some heavy use.