Ain't He Precious? (Paperback)

Pap Mancinkus

Non-native of Whynot, North Carolina; Yankee transplant; former Marine Corps drill instructor; wise-cracking smartass.

There’s an old Lithuanian saying—Sena meilė nerūdyja.

It means—An old love does not rust.

My granddaughter, Trixie Mancinkus, is a North Carolina girl through and through. Born here, lived here most of her life, currently living here because it’s where she wants to be. Southern to the bone, despite my best attempts to knock some Yankee sense into her at times.

Please don’t think that when I say she’s “southern” that she’s all polite gentility with a soft voice, a knack for baking scratch biscuits, and plays bridge with her girlfriends on Thursday nights.

No, my girl Trixie has just enough of my Yankee blood in her to do me proud. She curses like a marine—thanks to her dad and me being marines—drinks moonshine in her sweet tea, and roots for my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers rather than the Carolina Panthers, much to the displeasure of her large southern family.

With all that said though, she’s southern because she chooses to live in her podunksmall-ass hometown of Whynot, North Carolina—population 3,872. That choice was made at the expense of a potentially lucrative career and, more importantly, a great love. She chose her family instead and while I hate to admit it, that’s the hallmark of a true southerner.

Family bonds.

My daughter-in-law Catherine—and that would be Trixie’s mom—is the epitome of a southern woman and has said on more than one occasion that blood is thicker than water. I’ve found that to be true. Otherwise, nothing can really explain my insane decision to move from Pittsburgh to Whynot at my son’s urging a little over twenty years ago. He’s a transplanted Yankee himself, but I digress…

Trixie is a lawyer—Harvard educated—but she returned to her hometown just over eleven years ago to set up her own shop and become Whynot’s only recourse for legal representation. Her firm sits right beside my bar, which is named Chesty’s after one of the greatest marine generals of all time, and right across the street from the county courthouse where she spends a good chunk of her workdays representing the good citizens of Whynot.

Trixie is devoted to her job, her clients, her family, and her hometown. She’ll tell you she doesn’t have time for anything else, and that includes frivolities such as love.

Which is why I find it beyond hilarious that she called on an old law-school classmate, Ryland Powers—stupid, ostentatious name by the way—to help her with a perplexing case. The big-city boy from Boston should be arriving today in Whynot, and I expect some sparks will be flying.

These two have a history.

A passionate one.

It did not end well for either one as the division occurred over who they were at their core—the big-city man and the small-town girl.

It’s the North versus the South all over again, but my money is on Trixie to win this time.

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