The moment I saw the flashing red-and-blues in my rear-view I knew I was fucked. A black male being pulled over in his deceased uncle's pickup on a secluded road in rural Georgia...
"Shit...!" I blurted out to no one as I slowed the truck and pulled to the shoulder. I cut the engine and tried to follow the officer's movements in the mirror. It was still dark out at 5:00AM.
License, insurance, title papers, Uncle Jonathan's death certificate...I went through the checklist and made sure my hands were in plain-sight as the officer approached on the passenger side.
"You know why I pulled you over, sir?" A small but authoritative voice accompanied the high-beam of the flashlight.
Two things caught me off guard: it was a woman and she was very short - her face was just barely visible over the door. I was certain she was standing on her toes.
"Yes, ma'm", I replied handing her my documents. "I only noticed that the headlight wasn't working last night. I was gonna replace it..."
"This your truck, sir?" she cut me off.
"Actually, no ma'm. It was my uncle's. He passed away a few weeks ago, and I'm here in town getting his affairs in order."
She looked over my Philadelphia driver's license and shuffled through the papers I'd given her and found the death certificate.
"I'll have to check this out, sir. Wait here."
"Where the hell you think I'm going...?" I mumbled as she walked back to her cruiser.
Ten-minutes later she returned with my documents. This time she was on the driver's side. I could see her face a little better - freckles, blue-eyes, red-hair pulled back in a tight bun.
"Alright, Mr. Clayton. Everything checks out. Please have the headlight taken care of." She passed each item back to me one-at-a-time. "And, sir...sorry for your loss. I knew your uncle...he was a good man."
That last part REALLY caught me off guard.
"Thanks. Thank you." I stammered. "Yes, ma'm. I'll get it fixed today."
She walked back to her patrol car and we were both on our way.
The remainder of my day was uneventful. I visited the lawyer and signed everything - Uncle Jonathan had never married or had children - he'd left everything to me and my mother. Mom had passed last year, so her portion came to me - her only child. I spent the rest of the day at the County Clerk's Office, and before going back to the farm I stopped to have the headlight changed.
I was now the owner of 20 acres of Georgia farmland. I had NO IDEA what I was going to do with it.
Since I was definitely NOT going to do any farming of my own, a friend who had been in a similar situation recommended that I sell the equipment - Uncle Jonathan did have a few debts outstanding to be resolved. So I made a few calls and set up an auction for the coming weekend.
There was a pretty good turn out on Saturday. Almost everything sold. I covered all the outstanding bills and had enough left over to cover expenses for a few months while I decided what I wanted to do. I was a city-boy by nature, and the "farm-life" was not my style. But after a few days staying in my uncle's (now MY) house, I started to feel relaxed. Maybe "living for the city" had run its course in me...
On Sunday I ventured into town for breakfast and some supplies. A very "Mayberry" kind of place, but the people were cordial. I was expecting "rednecks and Klansmen" but found none - a VERY pleasant surprise.
At the local diner, I settled into a booth for some grits and coffee and the local paper. I was reading about the local football talent being recruited by Georgia Tech when I was interrupted.
"Hope you got that headlight squared away, Mr. Clayton."
I almost didn't recognize her. She was heavier and older than I had realized, probably not that much younger than me (mid-40s). Her heart-shaped face was covered with freckles. She wore light makeup, and an Atlanta Brave's baseball cap, with a tuft of red-ponytail protruding from the back. A faded grey t-shirt that was definitely way too small, which only made her boobs seem that much larger, jeans and pink, platform-style flip-flops, adorned with daisies.
My eyes stayed fixed on her breasts longer than they should have, because her height put them directly in my "line of fire".
"Yes, I did, Officer..." I stammered, pulling myself together. "Did it that very day."
"Good." she smiled. "Would have had to run you in if you didn't."
"Can't have that." I shot back.
"I'll let you get back to your paper." She grinned as she walked away.
My eyes followed as she moved off. Flat-buns and wide hips, thickness where it counts in the thighs. Slight belly-roll and very pale skin. A tattoo on her right elbow. And a lot cuter than I remembered.
I'd almost forgotten the exchange and went back to the paper when she interrupted me again.
"The name's Betty, by the way. Betty Craddock." She gave me a BIG-GEORGIA smile as she extended her hand. I smiled back, stood and accepted her firm grip.
"Very nice to officially meet you, Miss Craddock. Guess you know my name already." (Derrick Clayton)
We both realized that we were still holding hands longer than necessary and made brief, awkward small-talk.
"So, maybe I'll see you around?" she finished again.
"I hope so," I smiled. "Seeing you again would be nice."
She smiled, blushed and turned to go. I checked her out again as she left the diner.
I decided to take my time and stay in Georgia a while longer. I sold several acres of land to neighboring farms for a tidy profit. I retained 5 acres and the house, which I decided to renovate.
Over the coming weeks, I developed a routine about town. I became a regular at the diner on weekdays, which is where I usually saw my new friend, "Officer Betty" (my nickname for her - she continued to call me "Mr. Clayton"). We smiled and innocently flirted, before she blushed and went on duty.
Something about her in that uniform was really hot!
The rest of the time I put my contractor and handyman skills to good use fixing my new home.
One night I got an unexpected visit. As I was clearing up wood-scraps from the front porch, a patrol car pulled into the yard. Officer Betty and a male officer got out and greeted me. She introduced her partner, Dan, and I gave them a tour of the house and my renovations.
Dan was a friendly enough guy. Although he seemed a little suspicious of the all-too obvious flirtations between me and Betty.
The visit was brief, and as they were leaving, Betty pulled me aside while her partner returned to the car.
"I hope you don't mind me stoppin' in unannounced like this..." she said almost shyly. "I just wanted Dan to meet you, and I wanted to see how you were gettin' along."
"Wow..." I said, taken aback. "I never felt so safe in my life."
