Original story, consenting adults... Yada Yada... Text appearing in Italics describes Rita's inner voice and dreams.
I try to give my characters their own voice with it's own slang and attitude. If my grammar and slang hasn't run you off yet, carry on. Thank you.
Rita, Chapter 2.5: An Angel Awakens
Pensacola, Florida. Present time.
When last we saw our three weary travelers, they were taking a couple of days to rest. Rita found herself more tired than usual. She had worked and worried over every detail of getting herself and Phillipe to the States. Rita always found that a good workout was the cure for this feeling. A long beach run and karate with "Little Brother" served nicely.
The remainder of their Sunday was devoted to beach, rest, hydrate, repeat. Rita and Tony disappeared for a few hours for a "romantic siesta." What Phillipe and the girls he met did or didn't do remains a young gentleman's discretion.
....
Monday Morning
Rolling out early was easy for our trio, with their bodies still on euro-central time. Rita and Phillipe both voiced regrets that they didn't have another day on Santa Rosa Island. Tony felt the same way but kept it to himself. Tony's friend was usually prompt but was not at the appointed Waffle Hut at the appointed time.
Tony dropped his phone into the seat. "Pat went to the wrong Waffle Hut. He'll be here in fifteen minutes or so."
"That's OK. It is still early." Rita said, then turned to Phillipe. She could easily see he was getting nervous. "Let's go stretch, little brother. Come on."
Tony sat in the Buick checking e-mails and reporting in with Robert and Isabella Renard via text. He felt good. The day off, on the beach, had been a well needed break. They all had some pink on their cheeks and sand in their clothing. Rita was right, another day would have been grand. The stretch idea was sounding good.
Tony found the others on a grassy area nearby that was obscured from view by a large truck. They were stretching and joking around, in contrast to their usual solemn demeanor. "I see you guys are feeling good today."
Rita hugged Tony grinning. "It is a beautiful morning, and I am with two handsome friends." Rita chuckled and gave Phillipe a playful shove. "Pip seemed to be getting nervous."
"Relax kid. You will be fine. You are here to learn, and it should be a ton of fun."
"I know, Tony. It's very exciting, but it is all strange to me."
"When you meet some more people you will be more comfortable. The people here are very friendly." Rita said. "Well, not as friendly as the beach girls." She said inducing Phillipe's cheeks to become much pinker.
"There is an old saying about 'southern hospitality'. It's a real thing. Southerners are polite and expect others to be polite. You will fit in, kid."
"You need to take him away from all this concrete and steel. Show him a small-town farmer's market or take him fishing. That's the real Florida." Said a man Tony's age, stepping around the truck. He was almost as tall as Tony with a rounder face and graying temples. He was deeply tanned like most Florida residents.
"Pat! Hey old man. How are you?" Tony said and shook his friends hand. "Guys, this is Eldredge Patterson. Pat, this is Rita and Phillipe."
Rita stepped up and took Pat's hand. "Hello, Mr. Patterson. It's nice to meet you in person."
"The pleasure is mine. Your picture barely does you justice."
Phillipe approached Pat with a smile and a handshake. "Phillipe Gaston. Thank you for helping us."
"Good grief, Peanut. Do you source your people through a modeling agency?" Pat asked, laughing.
"It could look that way. I'm glad you are here, Pat. I was getting tired of being the ugly one."
"I see you are taking good care of my car." Pat said.
"How do you figure that is your Roadmaster?"
"When you finally sell it to me." Pat turned to the others. "I offered him twice Blue Book and he laughed."
"Then you can be Clark Griswold. I don't get it. The big car is handy sometime, but I would not seek it out." Rita commented.
"They call it 'a sleeper'. Looks slow but is really fast." Tony was getting defensive about his wagon.
"I would rather have the Porsche 996 he has stored in La Rochelle, if it were running correctly." Phillipe offered up.
"He bought it like that, cheap. He thought he could fix it and make a profit. Turned out its gonna cost a fat stack of Euros to fix."
"Shit! If all three of you are going to gang up on me, I'll go get coffee." Tony shook his head.
....
After a few more friendly jabs between old friends, the group occupied a booth in Waffle Hut. Rita advised Phillipe to load up on some carbs. He passed on waffles and ordered grits with butter and cheese. It was close to the polenta he had eaten most of his life.
"Dang, Peanut. You need to come home more, you are getting a French accent like these two. If you combine that with some southern drawl, you could wind up sounding... Cajun!" Pat said chuckling.
"Oh no, I say. I ain't gone be talking like dat!" Tony retorted with a perfect Southern Louisiana accent. He cracked up everyone including two guys at the next table.
"Mr. Patterson. Why do you call Tony, 'Peanut'?" Phillipe asked.
"It was a Navy nickname. Not everyone gets one like in the movies. I was 'Corndog' for a while, but my name has a built-in nickname. Tony is 'Peanut' because he's from Georgia, famous for peanuts and peaches. We already had a "Peaches."
"I was glad that a cute girl got 'Peaches'. You worked with Katy stateside. How is she?" Tony asked.
"She is doing really well. Still in the Navy. She married some clown and had two kids, one of each. That clown left her, now she's with another clown. She seems happy."
"We are trying to call this young fellow, 'Phillip' while we are here to sound more English." Rita said.
"Phillip, then, OK. Your English is good. Try to slow your pace and drop your pitch a little. Most people here only speak English." Pat sipped his coffee and checked his watch. "There is some pop-psychology thing going round the internet that says that multilingual people have a different personality for each language."
"I have heard of this. It is rubbish!" Rita said.
Phillipe snickered into his napkin, looking across at Rita.
Tony chuckled and put his arm around her. "My love, you could be the subject of a paper on that, and Isabella would write it."
"You are a silly man, Tony." Rita protested.
"Oh, really? Your Spanish personality is very serious and humorless. Your French personality is light, feminine and very sweet."
Rita cut glances at Tony and Phillipe. "What about my English personality, Peanut-man?"
Phillipe butted in. "Your English personality is sweet and funny, Rita. But..."
"...But English brings the sarcasm out in you sometime." Tony didn't want to say anything critical, but he was sure it was what Phillipe was about to say.
The comment would have shut most people up. Rita reached across the table to hold Phillipe's hand and looked at Tony. "I'm sorry, guys. I am trying to work on my smarty-mouth. Most of the time, I am just trying to be funny. Other times, it is my duty to point out how silly you are."
"You are right my love, part of your job description." Tony smiled and side-hugged Rita. "Nice tan, old man. Have you got a boat?"
"I have something much better than a boat. I have a girlfriend that owns a boat, a nice boat." Pat looked at his watch again. "OK, folks, let's go find some guys to beat up Phillip."