#fascinated. whole other world i know nothing about and some people regularly partake in. a whole other culture lmao

[lokh]

being like man i probably gotta talk to people/make friends. finding out ways to make that happen irl and being like ykno what nevermind

[thesportssoundoff]

What Happens When You Take A Bad Idea And Make It Worse? LET’S TALK ABOUT THE BRAWL FOR ALL!

Joey

March 11th

The Mother Fucking Brawl For All.

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd actually get around to this but there are miracles around us and what better time than now? The Brawl For All is generally regarded as one of the worst ideas of all time in a business with an entire genre dedicated to grown men and women smashing each other with fluorescent light tubes and slamming one another on beds of nails and thumbtacks. In a business that up until the mid 80s featured nazis goose stepping around and up until 2003 or so regularly and routinely featured women wrestling in their bloomers, the Brawl For All is the one idea that every human being unanimously believes was a disastrous failure. It's the one unanimous tire fire that not even it's most ardent supporter can put out. Not even WCW's junkyard battle royale which featured multiple injuries due to WCW not gimmicking the cars and just having guys taking bumps onto cars and through glass windshields is hated this much. The Brawl 4 All is one of those things people can't even sum up with "It was bad!" and move on. You have to go through layers and layers and levels of badness. You have to view it almost as an affront to your sensibilities, as a personal attack on you as a fan. Hell not just as a fan but as a human being!

Vince McMahon and company have failed in previous ventures before and ventures after. The XFL, the World Bodybuilding Federation, the ECW relaunch, 65% of the undercard Attitude Era angles, their really expensive WWE Films attempts. Some could even argue that the brand split originally was a failure in some respects given that Smackdown never really got going on its own and Raw declined sharply from the brand split onward. That said those failures at least had SOME inkling and morsels of promise behind them. Not the Brawl For All. It was a bad idea from the start, a bad idea during and made even worse by what happened afterwards. Also? The Brawl For All is one of those things that every wrestling fan and every wrestling personality has a hard opinion on, the kind of shit that lends itself to so much gossip, rumor and conversation. Over the next few weeks, I want to discuss the Brawl 4 All a bit more. I want to delve into it because it's as close as we'll ever get to a universal no hope no spin failure by the WWE and because...well...it's one of my favorite fuck ups of all time. It's always been something that fascinated me from watching it live as a casual fan to laughing at it as a smart fan when I stumble across it to making a near yearly pilgrimage to youtube to watch every single fight of it I can find before it got yanked. It's one of those wrestling stinkers that like December 2 Dismember or the Heroes Of Wrestling card that I'm magnetically attracted to. Every wrestling fan FEELS for the Brawl For All even if those feelings are utter disdain for everyone involved with it.

The Concept And How Fucked It Was From Jump

To get why this even happened, you have to go back in a time capsule. Despite catching fire in 1998, the WWF (for the purpose of being as thorough as possible here, we're gonna call 'em as they were when this happened) is still struggling to keep track with WCW Nitro. They're in the midst of an 83 week long ass eating from Ted Turner's Atlanta based wrestling promotion and "good ideas" are running dry. Understand that at this point the WWF has the single hottest property in the business but that sole property isn't enough to get over the hump vs the NWO, the cruiserweights, an ascending Bill Goldberg, Bret Hart, the return of Sting and what was genuinely just a better overall card. Even if Wrestlemania 14 gave birth to so many great stories going forward (Austin vs McMahon, the hard reboot of DX as a faction, Kane vs Undertaker's first match), WCW is in the midst of its highest grossing year ever. Vince McMahon has James Harden putting up 50 points a night and winning on his back but he's still looking up to the Golden State Warriors. Making matters worse, both companies are in the pro wrestling equivalent of an arms race.  Remember how when the UFC and Bellator in 2014 and 2015 signed anybody with a pulse because they were trying to fill up two insanely bloated schedules? It's a bit like that. Anybody who is good (and not a walking flag factory so to speak) is either in WWE or WCW at this point which means if you ONLY have two hours of content, you've got a lot of guys doing nothing.

The Brawl For All on its surface and without malice seems like an awful idea to try and remedy that. Pit sixteen dudes in a shoot tournament and let them go at it with set rules in place. It gets guys on TV, gives them something to do and at the end, in theory, the winner doesn't just get a big financial prize but come out in the end as a star. It's a chance to do something with a section of guys who are doing absolutely nothing at all. Sounds good, riiiiight? Well now let's break into some sexy rumor mongering about what this really was about:

-We can start with the mastermind! Vince Russo is the man who apparently concocted this concept which should be somewhat redeemable if what I laid out above was entirely 100% accurate. It's not entirely the case, even according to Russo's own words. Per Vince Russo, a large reason the Brawl For All came to be was that he had a beef with one of the wrestlers (Bradshaw aka John Bradshaw Layfield aka that guy who got flattened by ring announcer Joey Styles) consistently bloviating that he was the toughest guy in the locker room. Right off the jump, any sort of noble designs are whittled away. Now often in pro wrestling, there's 100 different stories to the same single event often shared by people IN the same room. Imagine how pronounced it is that a) everybody agrees that it was Russo's idea, b) everybody is under the impression that it was over a tiff with a pro wrestling with no shoot fighting experience and c) EVERYBODY agrees it was one of the worst concepts imaginable. The Brawl For All's entire seed was planted not so much out of a design to get guys work and on TV but out of wanting to see a loud dude get punched up. That's insanity out the gate.

-The Brawl For All was by invitation only and depending on who you believe, the process to select wrestlers was rather...exclusive. Bruce Prichard discusses in his podcast with Conrad Thompson that he was the guy who had to round up the talent to fill enough spots in the tournament. Prichard says he had to play to the egos of wrestlers and in a separate interview, Bart Gunn talks about how he got recruited basically by another member of the writing team as well. The name Bart Gunn will become pretty important down the line so jot that down in your notebooks real quick. Wrestlers were recruited with what seems like a pretty easy enough pitch and one I'd imagine that the UFC uses today  with their fighters; basically a "I mean don't you believe you're the toughest dude here?!" and a "We'll pay you!" and we're off to the races. Despite this, the Brawl For All struggled to get people to fill in the spots in no small part due to the fact that no star is going to partake in an absolutely stupid concept like this when they can just make their money being a star. The Brawl For All isn't even a TUF; it's a PFL tournament where all the dudes nobody else wants are lumped into a tournament format with the golden carrot of a $100,000 prize at the end of it.

-Perhaps worth more than the $100,000 prize was the either legit or illegitimate golden carrot of the winner getting to work a program with "Stone Cold" Steve Austin. Understand that no one single act was as hot and drawing as much money at this time as Steve Austin was. He was the it guy, the biggest star in the business and noway near close to peaking as a talent either. The Brawl For All $100,000 prize? That's cool and all  plus that was basically the downside guarantee for a year's worth of work. The opportunity to work with Stone Cold on a pay per view? That's the big money ticket. That's the opportunity to be a made man like how working with Hogan in the 80s was. For top guys, that opportunity may come along at any given point. Again going back a bit to TUF and the PFL, imagine if the UFC offered eight of its guys the chance to compete in a tournament for $100,000. Enticing! Now imagine the winner gets to fight Conor McGregor on a PPV. Tell me if it doesn't get every guy not named Khabib and Tony Ferguson jumping into it. That would be a great no doubt can't miss opportunity!

EXCEPT

-It was probably a lie. Scratch that. We can factually tell that any sort of Austin match for the winner was a lie since every person involved (sans one) says it was real and the winner never actually got said shot. Imagine if the tournament wasn't build on anything truthful but instead on a "The winner will be in the mix" from Dana White. While Bruce Prichard says there was no official plan for the winner to face Steve Austin, everybody else involved from talent to wrestling guru Jim Cornette seems to suggest there WAS a plan in place for the winner to win. That is, assuming of course, the winner was the guy they thought was going to win all along. More on that in the future but just know that the Brawl For All's fighters were flirted with a hush hush unofficial promise of facing Steve Austin that was probably never going to be fulfilled unless won by a specific party. Bart Gunn says he was told the winner would face Stone Cold and well....more on that at another time. Let's just say sports entertainment and combat sports have a long storied history of perhaps listening to the matchmakers a bit too closely.

-The rules for the Brawl For All? Well those were a mess. According to Bruce Prichard, the rules were still being worked out the week of. According to Steve Blackman (a dude who Bob Holly admits would've won the whole thing), there were plans to allow leg kicks and those rules just happened to get yanked the week of. The glove size seems to change depending on who you ask as the WWF says they were 16 ounce gloves but Bart Gunn argues repeatedly they were 22 ounce gloves. Some of the guys admittedly didn't even think it was a shoot fight either and at least one fighter fought thinking it was a work. According to Bart Gunn, even halfway through the tournament he kept expecting it to be a work suddenly.  The "official" Brawl For All rules had points for takedowns, points for a knockdown and points for more punches thrown across three one minute rounds. The scorecard part doesn't even matter at this point. To be honest, it didn't even matter then.

So let's talk about the big problem here

So imagine putting together a tournament designed around the concept of "Who's the toughest guy!" in a show where the audience is conditioned to believe that the toughest guy is the world champion or if the champion is a heel, the toughest guy is the babyface chasing said champion. We already in theory know who the toughest guy is or at least we're willing to suspend our disbelief. Also if we're to believe that the winner of the tournament is the toughest guy in the company, why aren't the big name tough guys we've been told are the tough guys competing in it? The concept falls flat right there on its own but the hole isn't deep enough. We gotta go from six feet to nine feet so now imagine that you've come up with this concept that pees on the first rule of your product. Make it worse. Make it so that the audience is being told to believe that what they see HERE AND ONLY HERE is legitimate.  NOTHING is as frustrating in pro wrestling as "a shoot." For those not addicted to sports entertainment meth, a shoot is something on the program that the audience is led to believe is real. Now for something to be "real" on a show that's already "real" then that in turn means what we're seeing is fake, right? So a "real fight" on pro wrestling ultimately means that what we're seeing is fake. Now most wrestling fans since the 70s and 80s have probably believed wrestling in some form or fashion is/was not real. We accept it as entertainment and as Jerry Jarrett once lovingly put it "theater of the illiterate." The key is to not remind us that what we're seeing is clearly fake (a problem wrestling fans seem to be having right now with Ronda Rousey). Reminding the audience that what they're saying is predetermined scripted fakeness and then asking them to invest into the REAL portion of the product that breaks their illusion only works if a star is doing it. It doesn't work if a bunch of random dudes and mid carders are doing it. Imagine if in the middle of one of those UFC Embedded gimmicks, we saw Conor McGregor rehearsing the press conference lines and then he went out to try and sell his beef with Cowboy Cerrone as legitimate. You've already hurt the audience's feelings and the Brawl For All actively did that at a time where all WWF fans wanted was to watch Stone Cold kick ass and DX make inappropriate jokes. You've brought DOWN the segment.

So now we're nine feel into the hole. Let's go sixteen feet deep. Nope! Let's go from here to fuckin' middle earth on this bad boy; pro wrestling is a TEAM effort. It requires two or more able bodied people to work together to create a magnificent fake fight spectacle that tells a story and ends with you becoming emotionally invested in its finish and what's to come. That requires participation. Now come up with a tournament where guys are going to beat the holy shit out of one another FOR REAL and then have to go back to participating with one another as if nothing happened! Every single wrestler involved in the Brawl For All has spoken about the bad blood and residual effects the Brawl For All had. Also remember these are not trained fighters either. Some of these guys are amateur wrestlers who probably haven't done that for years. Some dudes dabbled in kickboxing or BJJ on their spare time or in years outside of wrestling had some formal combat sports . Some of these guys were bodybuilders by trade and some of these dudes were just pro wrestlers who happened to have a few "So and so cleaned out a bar room with one hand and six beers!" type magical fishing trip stories. So you're taking a bunch of ego driven (some chemically enhanced) guys and sending them out there to beat each other up on a Monday or a Tuesday and then magically get over it in time to make the house show loop where they're going to team together. We've officially come out the other end through China, folks.

And yet despite all of this very obvious right in front of our faces warning signs, the Brawl For All existed.

Next time we'll talk about who was in it a bit more---and why IF the Brawl For All had a true tertiary motive designed to elevate one guy to superstardom, it was an even bigger failure than humanly possible.

[guttersvillemayor]

Unexpected In So Many Ways

[It was unexpected, he was unexpected. He was invited on the trip by mutual friends who talked about how funny, smart and even sexy he was. Although that last one was mentioned in a wistful tone by the recently-singled gay man in the group who would have happily rebounded with the gorgeous man who now stood before me asking if I wanted to go see the Beaver Falls and Colorado River. The group we’d tagged along with were the one who had made the reservations well in advance but he was the only one interested in taking the full hike along Havasu Creek. I wouldn’t say I was a very outdoorsy person or a fan of hiking in general, but since I couldn’t imagine myself ever coming back here again, I easily agreed. The trip started off with the whole group together hanging out at the Navajo and Havasu Falls getting to know one another with those in the group they were less familiar with, and that’s how I became friends with Pedro Guerrero.

By the time we made camp between Havasu Falls and Mooney Falls, he and I had found that despite the age difference, we had a lot in common. Big families, although mine came from siblings and his was more from extended family. Religious upbringing, both Catholic although we didn’t practice like our parents did. Slightly similar taste in humor, books, entertainment and some music. But there were also the differences between us that let us learn more about the other person. However, we didn’t get too personal in backstories and such, like what brought us both to travel across the country. Yet still it felt like I had always known him and that he knew me in a way that no one else ever had. It was probably the main reason I found myself that next morning curled up in his arms after us staying up late talking. We ate breakfast with the group before setting off on our own towards the Beaver Falls. Along the way we kept talking about what would be considered little inconsequential things, but somehow they felt like a window into who each of us really was. It didn’t feel like small talk so that by the time we got to the falls, I had no doubt he and I would probably stay up late again and share a tent and sleeping bag.

I took several pictures of the beautiful landscape around us and sneaked a few of Pedro when he wasn’t looking. There was something about him that was so down to Earth and yet at the same time was just indescribable. At one point, he turned around and almost caught me snapping a photo of him. His smile wide and bright as if it was the most natural thing in the world for this person he just met to be taking his picture while he gazed up at the waterfall in front of him. “You better send me a copy of that one cause I’m sure it’s beautiful.” With a quick nod of my head, I turned my camera away to take other shots of the falls and the slowly descending sun. Pedro offered to set up our camping accommodations if I’d be willing to make our dinner. Something I was more than happy to agree to do. I wasn’t sure what real campers or hikers would eat on their trips, but I’d lucked out in that the more experienced members of the group offered to get the necessary food supplies for everyone if we chipped in to pay them back. It was a good thing they offered cause I’d never known before about freeze-dried meals at least not in the camping sense.

Of course, as someone from Louisiana and New Orleans, especially, I knew about MREs thanks to Hurricane Katrina. But these freeze-dried meals were different. I’d watched the night before as the others had put together the food so I had a pretty good idea of what to do, and besides I did have some idea of how to cook in general and follow instructions. So while Pedro set up the tent, I started to boil the water for the food before going through the meals he’d picked out for us this morning from the group’s supplies. With a raised eyebrow, I called out to him and held up the package I just came across.] Seriously? I can almost promise you that this is not at all authentic. [He had to step a little closer to get a better look at what I was holding up, but he ended up laughing as soon as he noticed I was holding a meal labeled ‘Louisiana Red Beans & Rice.’ “I was just trying to make you feel at home while out on the road. Thought you would enjoy it and even grabbed some dried sausage to add to it.” With another laugh, he walked back to finish setting things up while I shook my head in reply.] While I do miss some good food from home, I have rarely found any dish that has the name Louisiana in it to actually taste like something I’d find in New Orleans. [He laughed again and we returned to companionable silence while we finished our tasks.

Once he was done, Pedro sat down next to me and dug into the packet of red beans I’d cooked. Hearing his hum of happiness at a good meal, I shook my head once more.] I promise you, that doesn’t taste like real Louisiana red beans and rice. [Turning his head towards me, his rich chocolate brown eyes catching mine and pinning me in place as he spoke. “Well then I guess you’ll have to show me sometime what those taste like.” Mutely, I nod my head and take a quick bite of the food while I try to recover from my reaction to him. “But for now, these taste pretty good. Thanks for making them.”] This was nothing. Thanks for putting up that. [I motion back to the tent which probably would have taken me a lifetime to put together no matter how easy he said it would be if I did it. We continued to talk about what foods we enjoyed while finishing our dinner and once we were done, it didn’t take long to clean everything up.

By this point, the sun had fully set and the moon was bright enough for us to see around our camping area. I watched in fascination as Pedro pulled out his sleeping bag as mine was already set up in the tent. My eyebrow shooting up in confusion as to what he was planning. Seeing my facial expression, he just chuckled and continued on spreading it out on the ground and grabbing a pillow before holding out his hand. “Senorita.” My own chuckle bubbling up at his gallant ways as I place my hand in his.] Senor. [And with that he helped me lay down on the covered ground before joining next to me. “Now this is better than any book, TV show or movie I’ve ever seen, don’t you agree?” I simply hum in agreement because what could anyone say when staring up at a beautiful night’s sky with what looked like thousands of stars shining down on us.

This wasn’t the first time I’d seen a starry night out on the road away from the big cities, but I’d never really stopped and laid down to enjoy them. It felt like this was something Pedro did regularly. As if he went through life at his own pace. I definitely went through life at a pace of my own, but it still felt rushed and confused and like I had no idea where I was going or how I would get there. I was so absorbed in the stars and my introspection that I almost jumped at the feel of Pedro’s fingers interlacing with mine. His hands were rough and yet smooth at the same time. The contradiction of his touch feeling very much like a Pedro thing. And what started off as a few soft and slow trailing brushes of his free hand over my arm escalates as he shifts on the sleeping bag to face me instead of the stars. The intimate touch of the backs of his fingers against the length of my jaw is enough to steal my breath away, but it’s the look in his eyes that has me frozen in place almost as if I’m going through an outer body experience watching his lips descend to my own slowly and cautiously. But the moment our lips touch, it kickstarts me into reacting. My hand shoots up to grip the back of his neck and while I’ve experienced a few kisses in my lifetime, it’s as if my body has a mind of its own and knows exactly what to do in this situation.

Who knows how long we lay there making out, not pressing any further until at one point, I feel his free hand start to slide down towards my chest. And while my body is on fire wanting to feel more of his touch, those same flames seem to lick the more rational part of my brain that has me breaking apart our kiss and resting my hand on top of his. I’m thankful for the dim light of the campfire which hopefully isn’t making it obvious about my growing blush as I rush through what I feel compelled to say at this moment.] I don’t want you to think that I’m not enjoying this, that I don’t welcome all of this. But I think it is only fair that you know that this isn’t something I do… ever. [My gaze shifting away from his as the mortification of my admission slowly grows now that the adrenaline of our make-out session has begun to subside. “What do you mean ever? Like you never make out under the stars or with people you’ve just met?” His tone gives away his incredulous thoughts despite the humor he tries to tack on at the end. I shift my body so that I can sit up because as much as I really don’t want to talk about this, I can’t deny that this is something that has to be talked about.] I mean I’ve never made out with anybody… ever.

[The silence stretches out for long enough to have my anxiety spike and I pull my hands into my lap to nervously pick at nails. “You said you’re 30, right? Are you saying that not one guy in all those years has realized how amazing you are before now even enough to simply make out with you?” It was as if his words speared me right in the heart, putting words to the insecurity I’d felt for so very long at reaching adulthood with barely any form of intimacy that I’d seen others partake in, to feel like such an outcast and oddball. To feel as if I was never good enough for anyone. If his hands hadn’t gently grasped my face, I no doubt would have fled from the sleeping bag to put distance between us. From his piercing words and gaze. But seeming to notice how vulnerable he’d made me, he quickly pulled me in for another kiss. This one soft and gentle and lingering, as if he was trying to soothe whatever hurt he might have caused with the clear action and message that I wasn’t unkissable like I’d believed myself to be.

“I hope I made that well worth the wait, senorita.” HIs words are soft and whispered against my lips to where all I can do is nod my head and feel his grin at my eager response. He pulls me back in for another series of kisses that are sweet and yet somehow still imbued with a passion that strokes the flames inside of me and I have to pull away once again.] Not that I enjoy continually pointing out how inexperienced I am, but I bring it up because while I enjoy kissing you… a lot. I’m not ready to… I don’t want you to think… [I can’t seem to find the right words to let him know that while I’m attracted to him and feel things for him I’d never truly felt for anyone else, I wasn’t ready to push too far, too fast into uncharted territory with someone I’d just met. Thankfully he seemed to understand as he raised a finger to silence my rambles. “No worries, hermosa. We have time to go as fast or as slow as you want.” Unable to say anything back, I show my appreciation by initiating a kiss of my own.

And for the next few hours we made out and slowly explored each other’s comfort zones until the campfire died down enough that we knew it was time to climb into our tent and find some rest. His arms wrapping around my body and pressing me to him while we slept. It was all new and exhilarating and I didn’t know how to process it all before falling asleep comfortably in his arms. The next few days were much of the same, with hiking and conversation throughout the day, snapping photos and getting to know each other better as people. And then at night, we laid out under the stars talking about slightly more intimate topics and getting to know each other’s bodies.

There was something different about that last night as we were planning the next day to trek back to the helipad to return to our vehicle and civilization. I didn’t know when I’d see him again, if I’d ever see him again. But in those few days, I’d felt closer to Pedro than I’d felt to any other person in the world. It seemed so clear to me that I couldn’t go back without fully giving myself over to that connection. So when it came time to pick a spot in the main campground for him to set up our tent, I made sure it was far enough away from most people that there would be some privacy. He probably figured I’d thought of this for our make-out sessions that had gotten more hot and heavy with each night. However, after dinner when he went to go grab his sleeping bag to lay down under the stars, I made sure to douse the campfire we’d set.

The moon was more than full enough to illuminate the area in case we needed to see something. His gaze looking up at me questioningly as he finished laying out the bag and I walked over to him and interlaced our fingers.] I want to thank you for this trip. I didn’t expect to find someone like you on the road or ever, really. But the past few days have been beyond what I could have ever hoped for in my life and I hope that you won’t mind doing me a favor tonight. [His eyebrow lifting in the sexy way I’d noticed it did whenever he was curious about something but didn’t have the words to ask what I meant. Letting one hand slowly work its way to the hem of Pedro’s pants, I lightly tease the top of them and bite my lip to gain my courage to ask my favor. The intake of his breath at my actions gave me the small boost of courage that I needed.] If you’re willing, of course, I’d really like to see what I’ve been missing out on… all of it, I mean. [A nervous chuckle escaping me as I wasn’t sure how else to ask someone to sleep with me, to look past my inexperience and virgin status that had felt like an invisible scarlet letter for so long. But it seemed I’d found the right person and Pedro dipped his head to press a soft kiss to my lips and whisper. “I’d be honored.”

He insisted that we not jump right to the end and we started that night as we had every other night by slowly making out and slowly building up to other things. Giving myself to Pedro was not something I had expected by any means. I’d pretty much resigned myself to live a solitary life indulging any notions of motherly instincts on my nieces and nephews. But as Pedro slowly made love to me under the stars, I felt that maybe my life wouldn’t be what I had assumed, what lot I’d consigned my life to be. That maybe there was more yet for me beyond what I saw. That night would forever live in my memory as well as Pedro’s touch would be forever burned and branded on my skin. It seemed like it was never going to end until eventually we fell asleep and the sun slowly rose the next morning.

We stayed quiet most of that day as we packed our things and headed past the first falls to the village. Each of us reaching out for the other from time to time for little touches and kisses. It wasn’t until we were back on the hilltop and approaching our vehicles that either one of us said something. “I don’t know if you’d be interested or not, but I’d like to see you again.” I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how unsure he sounded, as if somehow I would ever refuse Pedro.] I’d like that. Maybe we should exchange information? [My teasing words highlighting how we’d gone days and shared intimacies never before crossed and yet hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. As we swapped phones, I input all my information from my full name to phone number even down to the addresses for my parents’ house and the Alabama beach house, before handing his phone back to him with a gentle kiss saying goodbye for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So it shouldn’t have surprised me when the same man who I unexpectedly gave my virginity to, the man who unexpectedly got me pregnant and who I’d given my heart to unexpectedly would follow along those same lines and show up unexpectedly in the same small town I was currently staying. Apparently while I was trying to subconsciously hide from my family and the pregnancy that was turning my life upside down, I had never considered that the man who had helped do the turning would ever find his way to Fairhope or Point Clear, Alabama. Yet there he stood with a huge smile on his face as if he was expected… didn’t he know he would always be unexpected to me. “Talk about crazy. I was just about to call you since I realized I didn’t know exactly where your place was here in Fairhope.” My reply comes out immediately, more from my unflattering habit of correcting or answering things I shouldn’t than anything else.] Point Clear… My family’s vacation house that I live at is actually in Point Clear, but they butt up right next to each other and overlap in some ways. This is, of course, Fairhope and not Point Clear…

[I would have kept going if not for his laugh at my rambling and more importantly for the soft, lingering kiss he presses to my lips. My body is frozen in place for a second before instinct kicks in and I kiss him back. He is chuckling softly when he finally breaks our kiss. “God, I never get tired of hearing you ramble on, woman.” I’m blinking as my brain catches up with everything that is going on. How does one process the father of their unborn showing up unexpectedly and just kissing them out of the blue. Thankfully, or not really when I think about it, I’m saved from talking as I hear Dahlia’s voice chime in. “And who might this be, Ems?” It’s then I remember I am not alone as I was out with Dahlia and Reba for some lunch after my doctor’s appointment. They were only in for the day, claiming to have brought me some much needed supplies from New Orleans. How they had pulled this excursion off without Wendy or complaint from my brothers was a mystery to me, but I appreciated having them earlier as the whooshing sound of my baby’s heartbeat reverberated through the ultrasound room. Now I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do as I introduced them to the baby daddy. No doubt a blush has creeped up my neck and I’m not sure if the nauseous feeling in my stomach is from morning sickness or simple anxiety.]

Guys, this is Pedro whom I met while out on the road. Pedro, this is my sister-in-law Dahlia and my brother Jackson’s hopefully soon-to-be fiancée Reba. I’m sure I’ve mentioned them a few times in my stories. [He chuckles softly and it only adds to the conflicting feelings in my stomach as I would usually melt at the sound. “Yes, she’s mentioned you a few times.” “All good I hope,” asks Dahlia with a teasing voice while they all shake each other’s hands. “Oh yeah, all the bad stuff was focused more on her brothers.” This causes both Reba and Dahlia to laugh. “Of that there can be no doubt,” Reba chuckled. “Were you all just going to lunch?” I don’t know what to make of the hopeful look on Pedro’s face, but I can tell the gears are turning in Dahlia’s head from her expression. “Sadly, we just finished eating an early lunch so that Reba and I could head back home before rush hour traffic.”

“Oh.” His short answer says so much and if I wasn’t afraid I’d lose my lunch before, I’m close to blowing chunks now from the flipping of my stomach. “But obviously, we’re just here visiting Emma Jean so you two can stay and catch up.” Reba pins me with a serious look while she starts to wrap her arms around my body and whispers into my ear. “Talk to him about things and give us a call after, okay?” With a quick nod, I hug Dahlia next as she places a soft kiss to my cheek and relays a whispered message of her own. “He is yummy, but don’t let this opportunity to talk to him go to waste.” I keep nodding my head as both of them bid farewell to me and Pedro. My eyes stay glued on them as they climb into Dahlia’s vehicle and start to drive off, waving goodbye. “So… that’s the infamous Dahlia?”

Taking in a deep calming breath, I nod and shift myself to once again take in all of Pedro.] Yep, the very one. Although Reba can have her moments too. [Trying not to catch his notice, my gaze runs over Pedro’s visage and taking note of any little changes since the last time I saw him before the new year. “It’s clear that they both love you very much just from those few moments.” A hum of agreement sounds forth as I fight with myself to not blurt out what I’m thinking.] What exactly are you doing here, Pedro? [Great job, Emma Jean. Smooth, real smooth. He chuckles showing how unoffended he is by my outburst. “I never tire of how refreshing you are. I’m here because I missed you, if I’m being honest. You said you didn’t know when you’d be back out on the road so I figured I was more than capable to come see you.” He glances around as his head bobs. “This isn’t a bad place even if it is in Alabama.”] I try not to hold that against them either, but I like the view from our beach house.

[As I’m speaking, he closed the distance between us, slipping his fingers between mine much like that first night alone together and presses a soft kiss to my lips the moment I’m done speaking. “If it’s not too presumptuous and you don’t mind showing me, I’d love to see this view.” From the twinkle in his eye and the intonation of his voice, I know what he’s trying to say without spelling it out for any person passing by us on a random sidewalk in Fairhope. I wasn’t sure what to do. There was so much to tell him and yet I still didn’t know if I should tell him. But there was no doubt that if I didn’t agree to him coming back with me to the house, he would know that something was up. In another world where I wasn’t pregnant with his child, I would have happily taken him off the second he randomly showed up. Dahlia and Reba here or not.

So as hard as it was to do, considering I’d just heard my child’s heartbeat and got a print-out picture of them, I did my best to act as if I wasn’t pregnant until I could figure out what I was going to say, if anything, to Pedro.] I think that can be arranged. [A teasing grin slowly spreads across my face as I motion towards his jeep, which he usually had hooked up to the back of his camper that was no doubt left at a park or somewhere similar. I make sure he takes us to that first so that at the very least he can park it at my place before leading Pedro towards what had been my sanctuary through all the upheaval in my life, including him and his child.]