Chapter 3: White Collars on Red Necks

The Simmons and Sterlings attempt to bond over their first meal together, but to no avail.

Dinner that evening was promptly served, and it seemed that it would be something the Sterlings would enjoy: down-home Southern comfort food, painstakingly whipped up by the Simmons family based on a suggestion from Rosemary. Why, they were even willing to cook up a last-minute dog-friendly meal for Cletus and Clovis. But sadly, it seemed not even that could put them in a better mood. Bad enough that their farm would take forever to build back up, but now they had to spend that time in a swanky mansion, living amongst the branch of humanity they despised more than anything?

Gathered around the expansive dining room table, Rosemary's folks-mainly her parents-frowned as platters upon platters were carried out and set down all around, though Kendra and Kendall appeared to be a little more optimistic, taking in the scents of all the delicacies they grew up eating. Meanwhile, Zeke looked as indifferent as ever.

"Heh, look at those idiots serving the feast themselves, trying not to look like a bunch of freeloaders," Paul muttered, maintaining his sneer. "We know you're lying to us, so just fess up already!"

"Who cares about these guys? I'm more worried about our youngest daughter," Lorraine replied.

"Mr. Sterling, I keep trying to tell you-" Mark Jr. interjected.

"Shut up, boy!" Paul snapped.

"Can't you two at least try to keep an open mind about this?" Rosemary pleaded, sitting down between her husband and mother. "I know you guys are weary about the upper-class, but these guys are different. Plus, I was able to convince them to help us rebuild the farm, and I'd really hate for you two to make them renege on the deal."

Both parents just looked away with a huff, but quickly loosened up a bit as soon as supper commenced. The minor conversations around the table briefly ceased as everyone served themselves, passing around platters of chicken fried steak with white gravy; chicken gizzards fried in an airy, beer-infused batter; bacon-garlic mashed potatoes with bits of skin and chives mixed in, topped with a homogenous sheet of shredded cheddar; the type of buttermilk biscuits that could be peeled apart in thin layers, and so, so much more.

Uptight as they were, the Sterlings just couldn't say no to a taste of home, and each and everyone of them enjoyed what was served, even to the point of eating until they were all but stuffed. During their breaks to let everything digest, they also willingly participated in the conversations around the table, though they ultimately weren't quite as pleasant as the Simmons' were hoping they'd be.

"Mmm, y'know this stuff ain't half-bad!" Paul admitted, wiping his mouth. "But y'all are gonna have to try way harder than that in order to butter me up- Holy s**t, is that real tasso ham in the green beans?! That stuff's so hard to come by!"

"Yep." Junior nodded with a wry smirk, watching his unwilling father-in-law dig into his helping.

"Mmf, mmm, ohhh... ahem, this changes nothing." Paul narrowed his eyes again.

"Suit yourself." Junior shrugged.

"So are you sure you ain't gotten no work done?" Lorraine asked, popping a hushpuppy into her mouth.

"Um, yes," Katrina cocked a thin black eyebrow, pouring some gravy on her steak and potatoes.

"Absolutely positive?" Lorraine pressed on.

"Yep. No work done. Not unless ya' count gettin' my grays dyed every so often," Katrina explained.

"If you say so." Lorraine rolled her eyes. "And for God's sake, put your napkin in your neckline or somethin'. You look like a w***e."

"Oh, now don't be gettin' jealous 'cause I breastfed two kids, instead of four."

Meanwhile, Justine didn't say much but instead spent the meal checking out the new twins who sat next to her, mostly talking quietly amongst themselves. Compared to her, these two were built like amazons; she just felt so safe near someone so tall, being only 5'5" herself. Justine couldn't help but let her eyes explore their bodies, taking in their lengthy curtains of hair, their skin complected in the shade of cocoa-butter, and their modest endowments. Their loose Bohemian tops that were bunched at the bottom, paired with cropped leggings with mesh accents on the sides and braided thong sandals. She pictured herself running her fingers through the twins' hair, or maybe helping them brush it. She imagined letting either one of them lead her in a slow-dance, pulling her into a passionate kiss afterwards. Or maybe she'd-

No no no, stop it! This isn't about me! Right now, we have to focus on making Primrose's life better, Justine shook her head to snap out of it, lightly enough to not draw attention to herself.

To try and keep her mind off her new acquaintances, she instead turned to her twin brother, who seemed to be engaged in yet another contentious discussion with Paul.

"So I really hesitate to ask, but how are you treating my baby girl?" the latter asked.

"As my equal, sir. And let me tell you, living with her is an absolute blast. We both enjoy cooking, cleaning, and raising our daughter, and we're always thinking of ways to spruce up the house some more." Junior nodded, wiping his mouth. "Of course, Rosemary does most of the work."

"Excuse me?!" Paul raised his voice again. "Our daughter's nothing but a slave to you?!"

"N-No! No, I didn't mean it like that! Numerous times, I've tried to get her to take breaks or at least share her workload, but she refuses every time. I am not above getting my hands dirty, in fact I'd say I'm just as hard of a worker as my dad," Junior explained.

"Ha, bullshit! Everyone knows elites don't do chores! None of y'all ever worked a day in your goddamn lives!" Paul raged, his fists trembling.

"Geez, this guy's more standoffish than Junior when he's consumed too much gluten," Justine muttered.

"Dad, please! Simmer down! Just please-" Rosemary chimed in.

"No, I'm not gonna simmer down, young lady! This man is playing you! He's just using you for free labor in more ways than one, trying to produce as many heirs as possible for when his dad kicks the bucket!" Paul ranted on. "Men like him ain't capable of love! Any 'love' he has for you is nothing but a big, fat ruse!"

"H-How dare you-!" Junior glowered at him.

"Quiet! Now Rose, just why on Earth did you have to move us here of all places?" Paul quieted down a bit.

"Because, Dad, I feel it's important that every child grows up with both sides of its family in its life, and the farm being destroyed provided the perfect opportunity for us to meet up and try to bridge the gaps between us," Rosemary explained. "Like it or not, Junior and I love each other more than anything. He's never mistreated me even once, and we want to patch things up between our families for our baby's sake."

"Well then you two are wasting your goddamn time," Paul said coldly.

A stunned silence fell over the table for a good few minutes, save for a few small noises that came from everyone quietly eating. During the brief interlude between courses, the Simmons all noticed that all of the Sterlings aside from Rosemary herself couldn't stop fidgeting on the spot, their hands and arms trembling as if they were desperate to get up and do something.

Things did pick up once dessert was served: a homemade pear cobbler served with Madagascar vanilla ice-cream. Things were peaceful during that course as well, until Lorraine was able to detect a hint of milk stout, the secret ingredient to her own recipe. And Rosemary's admission to making the dish in an attempt to ease her folks into the gathering didn't help at all. Just why on earth her daughter would willingly hand a family recipe over to a family of freeloaders was beyond her.

---

It took a ton of coaxing to get both of her parents to calm down, but by then, both of them just wanted to crash for the night. To get ready for that, both families gathered on the front doorstep again with their luggage in tow, a slightly tense mood shared between each and every one of them.

"Alright, so why don't we decide who's going to sleep where. Of course, you are all welcome to travel back and forth between the two mansions whenever you wish," Mark explained. "So, Sterlings. Which of you want to sleep here, and which of you want to sleep at Junior's place?"

"Well obviously, we're going back to my place." Junior nodded, holding Primrose in his arms as he stood by Rosemary.

"And I'm comin' with. Gotta make sure you don't do anything to hurt baby-cakes," Lorraine replied, making him roll his eyes. "You coming too, dearest?"

But Paul didn't answer, instead directing his attention towards Mark, who did nothing more than give him a small smile in return. He just deepened his glare, taking in the sight of that well-kept, clean-shaven, olive-toned skin, resulting from a touch of Greek heritage. His graying chestnut hair gelled and slicked to the side. His toned, muscular physique covered up by his slide-sandals and casual, country-club attire, all topped off with that ice-cold glass of tonic and gin in his hand. To Paul, he really did look like one of those airbrushed billionaires, who happened to be the type of people he despised most. The type who exploited the labor of everyday working-class people just so they could splurge on themselves some more. The type who had no concept of hard work or empathy, but still pretended to be on the same level as those who did.

"Eh, I think I'll be staying over here. Better keep an eye on his dad, too," Paul remarked at last.

"Fine then. I needed to practice my abstinence anyway." Lorraine folded her arms.

"I dunno. Both sound so tempting," Kendra commented.

"Well then, why don't we split up and tell each other what each house is like tomorrow?" Kendall suggested. "Same goes for the dogs?"

"Genius!" both twins squealed in unison.

"How about you, Zeke?" Rosemary asked her brother, who just shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment.

"I... I honestly have no opinion," he said quietly.

"Well you'll have to choose. You strike me as a bit too old to have all your decisions made for you," Justine chuckled.

At this, Zeke looked up and felt his cheeks flush at the sight of her grinning at him, noticing her great body clothed in an open Hawaiian shirt over a ruched crop-top with ruffled edges. Those sweat-pants cut off so high that the large pockets hung out, showing off her legs remarkably well, and not to mention those tan locks cascading out from under her Panama hat.

"Er... I guess I'll go where you're going," Zeke stuttered. "Gah! ...I-I mean... wow, that came out wrong."

"Then it's settled." Mark nodded. "We will see you all in the morning, where we will then make arrangements for your little farming situation."

Nobody else dared to speak as the large group split up, some of them piling into the limo to head towards Simmons Manor Jr. Those who weren't going couldn't help but notice the way Zeke hurried into the car to snag a spot right by Justine, a cautious yet still enamored look on his normally blank face.

"Heh heh, wait 'till he finds out she's a lesbian," Mark giggled to himself, making Paul narrow his eyes even more.

---

Later that night, after the mess from dinner was cleaned up and all the guests had turned in for the night, Mark and Katrina busied themselves in their own bedroom getting ready to follow suit, though it didn't stop them from turning on the TV to watch Up Late with Teddy Griffin, a long-running late-night talk show.

"And as for the joke of the night... airplane food, am I right?" a voice spoke from the screen, earning quite a bit of laughter from the studio audience.

"Ugh, can't believe that wench! Callin' me a w***e like that! Who does she think she is?!" Katrina growled, stepping out of the bathroom in a short, skimpy nightgown with laced edges. "Like I ain't allowed to show off a little skin at my age. Maybe once I turn seventy-five, I'll change my mind, but right now? Pfft, count me da' f**k out."

"Look, honey, I know they're not the most refined family out there, but surely they'll come around," Mark replied, shifting a bit to make room for his wife.

"Yeah, well I hope they won't take too long to do that. It ain't even been a day, and I'm already sick a'those hicks." Katrina pulled the covers up, adjusting the strap on her nightgown. "Startin' to think that maybe we's puttin' in all dis' work for nothin', at which point we should just send 'em back home to freeze to death."

"Oh come on now, don't think like that. They're not just any folks, they're Rosemary's folks, and they need our help. We were kind enough to let Rosemary into our lives, and so now we have to do the same with the others. And in order to win them over, then we'll have to be the better people," Mark explained. "Plus, like it or not, we have a granddaughter in the mix, and our first grandchild at that. We have to do this for her sake, if no one else's."

"Alright, fine. For Primrose." Katrina sighed in resignation.

"Now first thing in the morning, I'm gonna see what we can do about that farm and then talk it over with Mr. Sterling," Mark suggested. "While I'm doing that, why don't you join the kids and help them connect with the rest of the family?"

"Sounds like a plan," Katrina replied as the two kissed goodnight.