Barlow Definition of Flawless

By D.M. Williams

A prominent billionaire, Robert Barlow of Saint Catherine, Ms struggles with for

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna Williams
• Release date: May 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9781666403817

D.M. Williams

D M Williams discovered writing and the power within words and the joy of creating diverse and entertaining characters at an early age. His stories are creations from real-life childhood experiences and from his vivid imagination. D M Williams was born and raised in the South Bronx of New York City. He relocated to California to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming an accomplished writer. Currently, he lives in Chino Hills, California.

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Barlow

Definition of Flawless

By D. M. Williams

© 2022 Donna Williams/D. M. Williams

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, journal, or blog.

Consulting services – Q By Design, Lil’ A 601 Imaging

Editing services - Q By Design

Cover Design – Donna Williams

ISBN: 9781666403817

The Lure of the South

The Southern language is as diverse alone as the many languages of the world. I never tire of listening to the people around me as I go about my day. It’s pleasantly difficult to find two people with the exact same dialect.  Many will agree this is the allure of the language indeed, with a sex appeal of its own. My personal favorite is the Deep South rhythmic drawl, the sexy accent that can easily hold its own besides the romantic French Gallo. The ear tingling high pitch twang rarely goes un-noticed much like the beautiful woman you never expect to see it hurling from when you look suddenly in its direction. Then there’s the melodic Cajun rhythms of creole that make your heart dance to its fast pace poetic tempo. And let’s be real, the south wouldn’t be genuine without the flavorful dramatic grammar that each of us seems to perfect to our own liking literally changing mundane words into lavish works of art to sculpt our beautiful way of communicating. I believe the southern dialect has a romance of its own far beyond comparison. I have tried to depict only a few of these tantalizing dialects in my works to celebrate what I believe is The Lure of the South. Y’all enjoy now!

Table of Contents

1 Branded                                                            

2 The Little House                        

3 The Mystery Unfolds                

4 Rebecca’s Story                          

5 Injustice Up Close                      

6 End of the Bachelor’s Reign    

7 Closure                                                            

8 Real Life Nightmare                

9 The Search for Chasidy          

10 Kept Promises                        

11 Spiritual Healing                                        

12 Little House Retreat                                  

13 The Trial                                                       

14 Change of Venue                    

15 Making The Move                  

16 Back To Barlow                    

17 Settling In                                                  

18 The Settlement

1 Branded

When first nominated the Most Successful Eligible Bachelor, Robert Lewis Barlow reluctantly accepted, semi-gracefully. For the past twenty-six years the only title he was interested in was Robert L. Barlow, owner, and CEO of Low-Bar Construction. Years of hard work, dedication and struggling to make a name for himself also gives him the well-earned additional titles of owner and CEO of Barlow, Inc., Barlow International, and Rob-Low Superior Innovations. He has never considered himself a bachelor. In fact, to this day he is still very much in love with his deceased wife, Rebecca. Widower? Yes. Bachelor? Only if society has him branded as such.

‘How did I even get tangled up in this mess?’ He asked himself over and over. ‘Who was it that even nominated me?’ No one would tell three years ago. No one is telling now. It is indeed the best kept secret in society news. Now, for the third time in as many years; given the same title, he has become accustomed to his forced ‘social status quo’. His bellowing confidence softly yelling through the camera is much more becoming for a man with his staggering good looks; compared to a nervous, tie tugging businessman barely staring at the same camera for the first time three years ago.

Wavering on the verge of early retirement, Barlow is in excellent health. A tall six-foot two slender build boasting the body of a thirty- year-old. The cameras, along with just about every woman in the audience, all but fell in love with his radiant smile, his clean-shaven face, and his perfectly lined hairline with just a hint of gray over the ears.

This interview, however, hosted a different atmosphere from the previous two shows. Ms. Owens of The Joy Owens Show pushed a bit harder for the juicy stuff. The questions had ventured from fun and entertaining, to deep and intimate. Barlow, not wanting to give off any wrong vibes, answered with extreme caution. Holding the Most Successful Eligible Bachelor reign for the past three years surely must have conjured up some persons of interests. At least, the host thought so. She was sure there should have been someone special to talk about by now. She was determined to reveal his most private and intimate story. Barlow was just as determined, to have it remain his own.

So, Rob, here we are again for the third year in a row. How are you feeling right now? the host asked excitedly.

I’m still in shock from da first show. He laughed softly, glowing with a boyish type of charm that only served as a compliment.

The host joined him in laughter. Since the first show, you have been branded a homosexual and impotent. And you’ve made no defense for yourself. Why haven’t you addressed these comments? Is there any truth to either of these statements?

Well, Ms. Owens, opinions come a dime a dozen and more so with da media than anyone else. Barlow’s sultry tone with an eloquent southern drawl practically flirted with the cameras. It’s how they make their money. Since I’ve nev’r been one who particularly cares what’s said about me, I’m not gonna pretend like I do and stand in da way of someone’s money.

These statements are indeed false then? Ms. Owens persisted.

If I give a definitive answer ta that, someone may be out of a job. He continued to avoid answering.

You’re quite the evader. the host teased. In some reports it’s said that you’ve never even been seen out with a woman. Not at parties, conventions, meetings, anywhere. If neither of these statements are true, what keeps an attractive man like yourself out of the dating scene?

Now that’s where they’re mistakin. I’ve always had a very beautiful woman at my side during every event I’ve attended. In fact, she’s here with me today. I nev’r go anywhere without ‘er.

Aw Yes, Ms. Ethel Middleton. The host replied. "We all know how you feel about Ms. Middleton, the hand that holds your heart. She’s a very lovely mother-figure. But you’re being purposely evasive. We wanna know what keeps you from becoming intimately involved or even falling in love?"

Work, Barlow said firmly.

No one works 24/7, Ms. Owens nudged. There must be more. Does it have anything to do with the ring you wear around your neck?

Barlow looked an inquiring Ms. Owens in the eyes. The memory of his beautiful wife briefly flashed before him. He hadn’t spoken of his wife to anyone except Ethel and his best friend Alan for nearly thirty years. Twenty-six to be exact. She was his most precious secret. Now was not the time to share her with the world. As far as Barlow is concerned, there may never come such a time. Let’s just say, Ms. Owens, that I’m an old-fashioned fella. I don’t casually date. I b’lieve datin should lead to somethin’ meaningful and permanent. Since I’m not lookin for anythin permanent, I don’t date.

Is there any possibility of that changing in the near future? Ms. Owens persisted.

Not in da crystal ball I’m lookin’ in. It’s still kinda cloudy in there, he answered smiling jokingly.

Ouch! That is a heartbreaking statement for the women in the dating community. The audience reacted with a sad awe. Well ladies, it looks like our Most Successful Eligible Bachelor will be just that for a very long time.

After the show, Barlow met Ethel backstage. She didn’t care to be part of the audience, but she could hear the show well from where she was waiting. She wasn’t too fond of Ms. Owens’ mother-figure comment. She couldn’t wait to share that with Barlow. Mother Figure? The first words out of her mouth. For all she knows, I could be one of those couga gals. And you could be my young Hot Honey, she told Barlow.

Barlow laughed. And if you had been in da audience, you could’ve shared that with er. Just think of da ratings da show would’ve gotten after that.

I’m not trying to boost her ratings, huh, calling me old on national T.V., Ethel bellowed.

Well, yur da prettiest, youngest old lady I’ll ev’r know in all my lifetime, Barlow flirted with the motherly love of his life.

Boy, if I’m da prettiest woman you know, then you gotta problem. We really gotta get you out more often.

Just don’t go tryin’ to marry me off, he warned, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Yep. That too. They joked as they left the building. Barlow and Ethel headed straight to the airport to fly off to Madrid. He had business to attend to at his overseas branch, Barlow International.

#

Three weeks later, he returned home with a truckload of mental notes. With his early retirement fast approaching at the end of the year, he had the mitigating task of reconstructing operations in some, if not all, of his branches. He knew he had some of the best people in their professions on his payroll. He took pride in knowing that. His decision wouldn’t be easy and that’s why he had to see his people in action up close and personally before making any decisions. This would lead to several trips to Europe this year as well as the branch offices in Memphis. He was confident who his own successor would be. There were no questions about that. His best friend Alan Ferguson had been with him since the beginning of Low-Bar Construction. There is no other choice. He wanted to make sure he had as good of a team under his belt as he has had. Barlow was taking his hands off everything. Leaving his children, so-to-speak, to be raised by other people. They had to be people he trusted. People he could count on. People who think like he would in order to keep moving the company forward. Once retired, he will be only a consultant. And that, when absolutely necessary.

Unlike most CEOs who did their critical thinking behind a desk, Barlow was more decisive when his hands were busy. Personal projects were his pet peeve when he had things to figure out. He had just finished shopping for supplies for one at The Home Center in Cool River Springs when he overheard a conversation between a customer and a store associate. Listening to the questions the customer was asking, it sounded as though she knew a little bit about what she was doing.  Intriguingly impressed with what he was hearing, Barlow casually walked around to the other aisle to get a peek at the woman.

She barely stood over five feet tall and weighed not more than a hundred and five pounds soaking wet. Her voice was soft and sexy but firm; riddled with a hint of frustration from her conversation with the store associate. Barlow was magnetically drawn to offer his assistance, since it is a subject he’s quite familiar with and he was just about to when the lady looked in his direction. You look like you’ve been list’ ning to our conversation. Whatta you think? she asked in a soothing mellow tone.

There was a distinct familiarity to her voice.  Like he had heard it many times before. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and not become tired. He was sure they had never met before though. She has a face that is quite unforgettable. Smooth and flawlessly silky skin. She wasn’t wearing makeup. But she didn’t need it. Her beauty is naturally captivating. Makeup would only cover up her best features. Well, I didn’t hear da initial question. But it sounds like you’re questionin da quality of da lumb’r compared to da prices. Am I correct?

The woman, now staring Barlow directly into his perfectly painted deep brown eyes of chestnut, asks coyly, Didn’t hear da initial question, huh? Well, you hit that nail on da head.

Barlow flashing his signature charming smile; returned the favor latching his eyes to her own dark brown beauties. I tend to do that on occasion.

Do what? The woman asked, somewhat mesmerized by the tall neatly built stranger. Toned, but not overly muscular. Supermodel handsome. And smelled like she imagined the angels in heaven. ‘Who comes to a home improvement store smelling like a piece of heaven?’she thought to herself, looking him over inconspicuously. "If there is any such thing as a flawless man, he could easily be the definition.’

Hit da nail on da head, he answered.

Having no idea who she was talking to, his reply meant absolutely nothing to her. But she did think it was cute. So, Mr. Occasional Hammar Man…. yor thought?

Well, like any oth’r product, da bett’r da quality, da high’r da price. But yes, you can get a really good quality product for a low’r price if ya know what to look for, he told her.

The woman turned back to the store associate. The first time their eyes disconnected since they’d begun talking to each other. There ya have it. Straight from da mouth of Mr. Occasional Hammar Man.

I’ll tell ya what, Barlow interrupted. Why don’t you tell me what yur workin’ on and I’ll see if I can help you find what you need, he suggested.

The store associate was familiar with Barlow and very early on realized that the woman didn’t have a clue as to who she was talking to. But he got the distinct impression that this would soon change as he watched the beginning of a romance unfold before his eyes.

The woman purposely hesitated. She has already made up her mind as to what she could afford but she wasn’t about to turn down any help from this man. Well, only if yur sure you know what yur doing.

I might know a thinga two, he teased.

The woman began to tell Barlow about the small home she was building for herself and by herself. And how she was in the beginning stages of the foundation work. The more she talked, the more impressed Barlow became with the petite beauty. He couldn’t imagine a little thing like her building an entire house by herself. Small or otherwise. Although she looked like she had what it takes to get it done, he couldn’t be the man everyone thinks he is if he let her build that house alone. He helped her pick out the best lumber for her budget and left her in the competent hands of the store associate to finish her shopping; with the absolute intent of seeing her again real soon.

Thank you, Mr. Occasional Hammar Man. You were a big help, the woman told him.

Yur quite welcome, Mam. Good luck with yor house, Barlow replied.

The woman was grateful for the help, but she was a little disappointed that the tall handsome stranger didn’t even ask for her name. ‘Well,’ she thought. ‘I didn’t ask fa his eitha.’

#

The supplies were set to be delivered the next day. When they arrived, the woman realized it wasn’t the lumber she paid for. She told the delivery driver that there was a mistake, and this wasn’t her purchase. Are you Chasidy Weems? the driver asked.

Yes, but.

And this is 2708 Pecan Grove Rd?

Yes.

Well Mam, this is what da work orda said to bring. What would you like me to do? Take it back to da store? It’s already paid fa, the confused driver said apologetically. I’m just da delivery guy. I don’t handle da papawork.

Chasidy thought about it. I’m sorry. Yur right. Go ahead. Unload it. She suddenly remembered the handsome stranger who had helped her yesterday. ‘It probably wasn’t a mistake after all. And the young man was simply doing his job’, she concluded.

While this conversation was taking place Barlow was making his way to Pecan Grove Road. He had never heard of the place, but few places are hidden from technology. The name suggested a beautiful country setting of a peaceful pasture nestled under groves of pecan trees. When he made his turn onto the road, his imagination didn’t fail him. The pecan trees outlined the property on three sides, hovering over the building site as if they were standing guard over the place, leaving only the entrance to the wind. The building site sat in the perfect spot directly center of the property. It appeared to be about three acres of country bliss. The quiet peacefulness of the place over-shadowed him with every turn of the wheel. He passed the delivery truck on its way out. Shortly thereafter he saw Ms. Weems standing near the pile of lumber.

Ms. Weems noticed the other truck pulling in as the delivery truck was leaving. The shiny black Denali sparkled like it had never felt a speck of dirt since it was created. Perfectly fitting of the tall handsome man who stepped out of it. The piece of heaven from the home improvement store. Mr. Occasional Hammer Man himself. Good mornin, Mam, he spoke politely with that signature smile plastered across his face.

Good morning. Once again, their eyes latching on to each other’s. So, yur behind this big mix-up in my purchase?

I hope ya don’t mind. I wasn’t tryin to undermine yor decision. You just strike me as a woman who d’serves da best.

‘Flawless man with flawless answers.’ She thought. But you didn’t have to buy it fa me. I could’ve worked it out.

I believe that. But then, how would I have found out yor name?

Umm. The woman pretended to think. Like most folks, ask.

What’s da fun in that? Barlow asked, still smiling. He just couldn’t seem to stop. It just wouldn’t go away. He looked like an innocent schoolboy meeting a girl for the first time. Some would argue that after twenty-six years with no involvements with women, that’s exactly what he is.

So, yur all about fun, are ya? she asked him nonchalantly.

I’m startin’ to be, he answered gleaming.

The woman isn’t naïve. She’s beginning to realize this man was no ordinary Joe. He’s somebody big. Somebody important, Big. Somebody who could convince a large home improvement store to break their data privacy policy to find out a woman’s name and be bold enough to boast about it, BIG.

Nice truck, she said, never breaking her stare.

Barlow bellowed a huge laugh. Thank you, Mam. I think so too.

Yeah, I’m wondering if I’ll get enough money to buy one for ma’ self after I sue da shingles off da store for violatin’ my privacy rights.

The woman never smiled, not even at the store, but Barlow was certain she was harmless. He did wonder though, what had happened to her that made her keep her smile locked away inside. Oh yeah, he replied hastily, that and a whole lot more. Da laws are pretty strict about that kinda’ thing.

And yet you w’re able to bypass ‘em all, she said to him.

Well, there’s this wonderful thing called a loophole. You can find them practically anywhere if ya know where ta look. He waited for her to reply. She didn’t. She was still sizing him up. Noticing how the hint of gray in his hairline complimented his bold cheeks when he smiled. Please Mam, forgive me?

I’ll bet you can charm da skin off a rattlesnake with that smile, she spoke matter-of-factly.

If that was a compliment, thank ya Mam, he replied. Ms. Weems started looking around to each side of herself. Whatta ya lookin for? Barlow asked.

Not what. Who?

Okay. Who’re ya lookin for?

My mom. Folks call her Mam.

‘Did I detect a bit of humor behind that expressionless face?’ Barlow thought.

You know my name. Use it. I, on da otha hand, it seems, will have ta keep callin you Mr. Occasional Hammar Man.

Or you can call me Rob, Ms. Weems.

Rob? she said questionably. What’s da fun in that?

He laughed even more. Four weeks ago, he was content with being branded the Most Successful Eligible Bachelorwho wouldn’t date because he wasn’t looking for anything serious. Yesterday, a beautifully talented country girl sneaked into his life, captivated his heart, and put a bit of intrigue into his spirit. Today, he’s rethinking the possibility of a meaningful relationship. He wanted to learn more about her. He dared to get to know her personally. If it’s alright, Ms. Weems, I’d love to help ya with this, he said in a perfect tone that beckoned for her undivided attention.

She didn’t return the favor of a smile to Barlow. Although she couldn’t figure out what it is he’s so fascinated with about her, she could certainly use his help. And, because he’s such a man who isn’t difficult on the eyesight, she replied, I think I might like that, …. Rob.

They worked through the morning and well past noon. Though it didn’t feel like work at all.  Barlow was doing what he enjoyed doing most and he was doing it enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. But she suddenly became lightheaded. That’s when they both took notice of the time. It’s one-thirty. You haven’t eaten all day. That’s da problem, he scolded. Let’s go grab a bite.

No. That’s not necessary, Ms. Weems told him.

You need to eat somethin, he demanded.

I know. I meant we don’t have ta leave, she explained. I brought my lunch. I have enough to share. That is, if ya don’t mind cold bologna and cheese.

Cold bologna and cheese happen to be one-of my favorite snacks, Barlow confessed.

Ms. Weems gave him a ‘I don’t know if I believe that’ look.

What? You don’t b’lieve me? he asked her.

Let’s just tag that one, T.B.D. for now, she answered.

To be d’cided? he clarified.

They sat on the tailgate of her small Colorado to have their lunch. Ms. Weems had brought plenty of food. More than enough to share. She had come prepared to spend the entire day there in the Grove.

Why do you need so much food? It looks yur feedin’ da neighborhood, Barlow commented.

What neighborhood? she answered looking around the property.

Well, since you mentioned it. Why’re you movin way out h’re all by yorself? He had wanted to ask that question ever since he saw the place but didn’t want to come off too forward.

You look like a smart man. You can’t figure that out? she asked, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

Um, no, he answered in genuine confusion.

B’cause, I don’t have anyone to move out here with me, Ms. Weems said coyly.

Barlow stopped eating and laid his sandwich down. "Let me rephrase da question. Why move way out h’re to be all by yorself? There aren’t any people around for at least three miles of you in every d’rection."

Are you kiddin me? Her voice lifted a bit. Look at this place. It’s beautiful. I love it out here.

Barlow took a long look around the property. It is beautiful. But…

Come take a walk with me. Bring yor sandwich. She gently took hold of his arm to guide him. They walked on a path alongside where the small house would soon be. It led to the Grove of trees in the back. As they walked, she shared her story. This was my grandma’s land. When I was a little girl, she would bring me and my brothars and sistas out here every fall to pick pecans. I would rip and run all through these trees tryin’ to snatch up all da pecans from everybody else, hopping around like a lil’ jack rabbit or somethin. By da time it was time to go I was worn completely out. I got so tired, I had ta lay in old Daniel Boone’s lap and take me a nap.

Daniel Boone? a baffled Barlow asked.

My favorite tree of this whole property. It’s almost in eye view. They took a few more steps. There he is. She pointed dead ahead. Barlow was amazed. He could see a formation of Daniel Boone in a real tree, including his coon skin cap and his faithful rifle. He would have gotten a picture, but he had never taken his phone out of the truck.

How did grandma ev’r find you way back h’re?

Da first time everybody helped ta look fa me. That day I got da worst scoldan’ I’d eva’ gotten from my grandma. It scared da dickens outta ‘er. But from thereafta, she knew to look fa me unda old Daniel.

You mean you did it again?  He laughed.

And again, and again and again. I was about five or six when it hap’aned da first time. I didn’t stop hoppin around out here ‘til I was at least twelve or thirteen. I enjoyed this place every moment I could with every breath I took. That’s why Grandma left it to me. She knew I loved it here. That’s why I bring so much food with me. I’m in no hurry to leave once I get here. Eventually, I’m gonna put a bench unda’ old Daniel. Probably spend most-a-my day here.

Barlow was touched by her story. He was even more determined now to help her build her Little House. In all of that heart-wrenching story, he still waits to see her first smile. He can tell she’s enjoying his company though. Ok, I understand da sentiment of it, da love of it, even da peace and solidarity of it. But why now? Why wait so long?

Rob, …. are you callin’ me old in a sexy voice kinda way? Ms. Weems asked him.

Ms. Weems, are you sayin I have a sexy voice? Neither answered the other’s question. Barlow continued, I’m just sayin’, it could be unsafe for a woman livin alone this far out, he explained himself.

Yur right. It’s a lot safa’ in da city limits around da rapist, murderars, robbars and kidnappars. They’re a walk in da park compared to these vicious squirrels and dear out here. She joked. But not discounting what Barlow was saying, she added, Actually though, da main reason I didn’t move out here is b’cause of my daughtar. It’s been just da two of us for all her life. I had to work, which meant sometimes she had to come home to an empty house. So, we stayed close to people who could sometimes help watch out fa ‘er. But my daughtar is grown now and married. Somewhere along da way life just got too busy. Time wasn’t right until now I guess.

Despite her pretense of a cold persona, she was extremely easy to talk with. She didn’t mince her words. She was straight