Something Complicated (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 1)

by J. L. Leslie

  “Really, Willow,” I grumble and stoop down to get the item.

  “Weally,” she grins.

  “You know, if you ask her to pick it up, she will.”

  I spin around, ready to bite Andrea’s head off, when I see Jenna standing there instead. She offers me an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, not trying to tell you what to do or anything. In my classroom the kids have to clean up after themselves. It takes a few tries usually, but eventually they pick up their things.”

  “She picks her things up at home,” I say almost defensively, then add, “Sometimes.”

  “Sure, she does,” Jenna teases. “Because it’s clear to me that she has you wrapped around her little finger. She is spoiled rotten, Kaler Holt, and I love it. There’s no better way for a kid to be.”

  “Maybe a little. Sometimes it’s easier to give her what she wants than to tell her no,” I admit.

  “Pish?” Willow interrupts.

  “Are you going fishing?” Jenna asks her and Willow nods. “I love fishing. I hope you and your daddy catch lots of fish. Now, I have to get this stuff home for my grandpa, who thinks he’s going fishing tomorrow instead of playing Backgammon with my grandma. See you tomorrow, Willow.”

  “Bye!” Willow calls out, waving happily.

  As I watch Jenna walk away, Willow pulls another item from the shelf and tosses it to the floor. I hear Jenna laughing as I return the item to the shelf.

  Jenna

  Saturday mornings are the only day of the week I’m allowed to sleep in. I get up at five a.m. Monday through Friday so I can get to the school early. I get up early for church on Sundays because my grandma insists that I attend whether I want to or not. After last week’s service, I would rather watch Joel Osteen on television and call it good.

  So, when I hear pounding on my door when it’s my day to sleep in, I do my best to ignore it. It’s probably a vacuum salesman. Yes, we have those in Chapelwood, and he is not worth me losing my sleep. I have hardwood floors, so I don’t need a damn vacuum.

  I bury my head beneath the covers and tell myself he will go away, but the incessant beating continues. With a curse, I throw the covers off me and get out of bed. To make matters worse, I stub my toe on the coffee table and have to limp to my door.

  “Pish!” Willow squeals with excitement when I open my door.

  Kaler is on my porch, Willow in his arms. He’s wearing an Auburn University tee and Braves ballcap. His camo cargo shorts are worn and faded, and his flip-flops have seen better days too.

  Is it bad that I lick my lips at the sight of him? It was an automatic reaction and it’s too early for me to fully have control of myself. That’s my excuse anyway. It’s not because I was thinking of how damn good he looks. I can also blame my reaction on the fact that I haven’t had sex in a long time. So long that I won’t even admit how long it’s been. It’s been that long.

  “We’re going fishing,” he states, flashing me a smile. “Get dressed. Unless you want to wear that ugly nightgown.”

  I look down at the striped nightgown my grandma gave to me. It’s not ugly! I tell him that and he chuckles as he steps inside my house.

  “It looks like something your grandma would sleep in.”

  “You imagine what my grandma sleeps in? Didn’t know you had a thing for older women,” I call over my shoulder, jokingly. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “I asked my mama.”

  “Pish!” Willow yells, clearly excited to be going fishing today.

  I smile at her and then it dawns on me that I’m not wearing a bra and I haven’t brushed my teeth. I’m standing in my nightgown, no makeup, with unbrushed hair and teeth. My boobs can probably be seen through the thin nightgown and I guarantee my breath reeks.

  “You know, just make yourselves at home and give me fifteen minutes,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest and starting up my stairs.

  “Okay, wear a bathing suit,” he replies, heading over to my couch. “And be sure you take care of that morning breath.”

  Ugh. I groan when I top the stairs, completely embarrassed, but also finding it somewhat nice that we can be friends like this. He hasn’t been the nicest person to me lately. I had my worries when he walked into my classroom the first day of school. It’s been so long since we’ve talked and I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about having me as Willow’s teacher, considering my friendship with Brynn.

  The last time I spoke to her, she said she hasn’t spoken to Kaler and that he doesn’t allow her to see Willow, so I don’t know what type of relationship they’ve had since their divorce, if any. It doesn’t seem like they speak at all, which is sad to me considering how close they once were.

  When I first met Brynn, it was through our parents. They went to high school together here in Chapelwood before my dad got his job. He and my mom married and moved from here before I was born, but they kept in touch with the Oakwoods. Brynn and I were best friends before we ever actually met. We wrote letters and talked on the phone all the time. When we did meet in person, we already knew everything about each other.

  It was nice to move to Chapelwood and have this group that accepted me so quickly. Her and Kaler were a pair, but she had the Holt brothers too, and they were a team. I wasn’t surprised when Kaler proposed. Brynn told me she knew he was going to. Said she always knew she was going to marry a Holt brother one day.

  “I’m ready,” I state, bounding down the stairs with my bathing suit on underneath my clothes.

  Willow is sitting on Kaler’s lap, playing on his phone. I’ve noticed how much she loves electronics in my class. All the kids like to have their turns with the iPads and tablets.

  “Much better than the nightgown,” Kaler quips, eyeing my tank and cut-off jean shorts that I’m wearing over my red bikini.

  I slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops I have by the door and follow him outside. I reach to open the passenger door, but he beats me to it. He buckles Willow in while I climb onto the seat and then he closes the door for me.

  “There’s some bacon sandwiches in that bag right there,” he informs me when he gets in. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

  “Well, someone was pounding on my door this morning. I usually sleep in until at least eleven on Saturdays,” I reply, taking him up on his offer for a sandwich.

  “Eleven? Are you serious? You’re wasting half the day away doing that.”

  “It’s my only day to sleep in,” I argue, mouth half-full. “School during the week and church on Sundays.”

  “God will forgive you if you don’t make it to Sunday school,” he assures me.

  “Yeah, well, grandma won’t, and I fear her wrath more.”

  “She looks like she’ll rain down hellfire every Sunday morning when your grandpa falls asleep,” he laughs.

  Willow laughs at his laughter, not knowing why she’s laughing, and it makes me smile. I didn’t get to sleep in today, but I can tell I won’t regret it. Not it all.

  Chapter Seven

  Kaler

  I can’t say what possessed me to call my mama this morning and ask her where Jenna lived. I also can’t say what possessed me to go to her house and practically demand that she go fishing with me and Willow.

  But watching her pull in yet another brim and seeing the excitement on my daughter’s face confirms that it was the right decision, regardless of the reason. Willow claps happily, screaming in excitement about the “pish” and Jenna jumps in delight as she pulls it in on her cane pole.

  We stopped and purchased a bucket of crickets on our way here, figuring if the bass weren’t biting, we would try the brim. Turns out, Jenna is one hell of a fisher. She didn’t even fool with the rod ‘n’ reel, just went straight for the cane pole.

  “I think we know who has caught the most today,” she beams, her hair still wet from our swim.

  “But not the biggest,” I smirk.

  “It’s quantity not quality,” she counters, gently removing the brim f
rom the hook.

  She not only shocked me by stripping her tank and shorts off and diving in the moment we got here, but by baiting her own hook too. She even knew how to remove the fish she caught from the hook. The only thing I remember about fishing with her before was spending all of my time baiting Brynn’s hook then hearing her complain when she never caught anything.

  “Fine, let’s make a wager,” I challenge, doing my best not to let my eyes wander over her bikini-clad body. It’s a damn difficult task with the way the water drips over her skin. “If I catch the next fish, then you have to clean them all, and if you catch the next one, then I do.”

  She glances down in the bucket, arching an eyebrow at the number of brim that she’s caught that significantly outweigh the number of bass that I have caught. Willow sits on the ground on her knees, finished with swimming and fishing and completely fascinated with the fish plopping around in the water in the bucket. Every so often she gets splashed and makes a face.

  “It’s on, Kaler Holt! Get ready to clean my fish!”

  I check my lure and wait on her to bait her hook with another cricket and then we cast out at the same time. I can tell she’s antsy because she rocks side to side, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in deep concentration.

  I take a moment to gaze at her now that she isn’t looking at me. At the way her bikini ties at the sides, holding the scrap of red material in place. At the way her top pushes her tits up, making them look bigger than the perfect handful they are. I look her up and down, all the way to her bare toes that are sinking in the grass. She glances over at me and smiles, excited over our little competition.

  I slowly reel, letting my lure do its job, while stealing glances over at her bobber. I’ll be damned, the son of a bitch goes under. Jenna lets out a shriek of excitement and at the same time, my line tugs.

  “Oh my God!” she yells, realizing that I have a fish on the line too.

  I frantically start to reel while she does her damnedest to get her line in. She flings her fish out of the water and onto the bank, jumping up and down in victory. I finish reeling mine in, laughing at her antics.

  “I won, I won! I shot the BB gun! You lost, you lost! You ate tomato sauce!” she sings, doing a silly dance with her arms in the air. As she repeats her victory song, Willow gets up to dance with her.

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile at the two of them. “Tomato sauce? That silly song from high school? That’s all you’ve got?”

  “That’s all I need!” she grins and holds her hand up to give Willow a high-five.

  My daughter gives her a five and then runs back over to the fish bucket to peer inside. Jenna stops singing and dancing so she can put her fish in the bucket. She whistles as she helps Willow toss it in.

  “That’s a lot of fish in there, buddy,” she muses. “I’d hate to be the one to clean all of them.”

  “Ha, ha,” I reply, dryly. “You know, my mama taught me whoever doesn’t clean ‘em, cooks ‘em.”

  Jenna

  Although it’s possible Kaler may open my door for me, I go ahead and open it when he pulls up to his house. I wasn’t sure if he would bring us to his house or mine to cook the fish, but since Willow is sound asleep, it’s probably best that he brought her home.

  He opens her door and eases her out of her car seat. I can’t help but notice how careful he is with her in his arms as he carries her inside their house. She’s his most precious cargo and it’s damn obvious he feels that way about her.

  I watch him hold her with one arm while he fishes his keys out of his back pocket. The two of them disappear inside and I decide to wrestle the bucket of fish off the back of his truck. I know I’m waddling with it as I struggle to get it to his porch because I hear his laughter. He puts the bowl he’s holding on a small table by a chair and shakes his head.

  “I got it,” I choke out when he reaches for it. Of course, he doesn’t accept that and takes it from me effortlessly. “I had it.”

  “Yeah, clearly.”

  He places the bucket on his porch, drawing a pocketknife from his back pocket. He plops down onto a chair and goes to work cleaning the fish. His front door is left open so we can hear Willow should she wake up.

  Instead of sitting down, I go inside his house and find my way to the kitchen. I rummage around in his drawers until I find what I’m looking for. When I emerge back outside, I sit down beside him and start to help him clean the fish. If he’s shocked, he doesn’t show it.

  “I don’t think I ever knew you wanted to be a teacher,” he comments, watching me with a curious look. “I was expecting mean ol’ Mrs. Colson when I walked into your classroom the first day of school.”

  “I’ve always liked kids,” I tell him. “I babysat a lot when I was younger, before I moved here. My dad worked a lot and my mom was always doing these classes. Anything she could teach, she would. Anyway, when she was hosting a class, I would be the designated babysitter for those who brought their kids along. I didn’t do so much babysitting when I moved here because I had Brynn and you Holt boys to hang out with, but I’ve always loved kids.”

  He stiffens a little when I mention Brynn’s name, but carries our conversation on with ease. “Ah, the Holt boys. We did have some good times back then.”

  “What are Kipton and Tauren up to now? I know I saw them Saturday night, but it’s still been years.”

  “Tauren is chasing after the preacher’s daughter from what I can tell. When he ain’t doing that, he still drives a stock car at Down ‘n’ Dirty and works full time at Wade’s Construction.”

  “Holy shit, Pastor Jacobs will have a stroke if Helene dates Tauren. From what my grandma tells me, he’s had her life planned out for her since she was in the womb.”

  I’m not close with Helene, but my grandma has told me that Pastor Jacobs keeps tabs on her. Since he’s the chief of police too, he has his officers watching her any time she leaves their house. She’s in her early twenties and attends Chapelwood University, but she may as well still be in junior high with the rules he has inflicted on her.

  “Tell me about it,” Kaler agrees. “I’ve warned Tauren away from her, but that’s like telling a fat kid he can’t eat cake. As for Kipton, he gets on a bull every once in a while, but he’s an associate at the Hendrix Accounting Firm full time. I honestly have no idea what he does there but he seems to like it. I suppose it’s a hell of a lot safer than bull riding.”

  I giggle at that. The Hendrix Accounting Firm is one of the largest businesses in Chapelwood and no one really knows what they do exactly. They handle money and investments for corporations all over the United States. That’s all I really know.

  “Kipton was always the smart one,” I tease. “Aside from the whole clinging for dear life on a bull part.”

  “There’s a difference in being smart and being a smart ass,” he smirks.

  “It takes a smart ass to know,” I grin.

  “You ready to go fry these up?” he asks, not remarking on my jibe, and I nod, looking down at my hands.

  “And ready to clean my hands too.”

  “Thanks for helping me. Made that part go by faster.”

  We carry everything inside and he allows me to wash my hands first. While I’m drying them, I ask, “Did you really think I wouldn’t have helped?”

  He shrugs, reaching for a paper towel. “Based on past experience, yes.”

  “Let me guess, that plastic Barbie in the bait shop wasn’t willing to get her hands dirty?” I joke and then mimic, “Sweetie, don’t do that. You have to learn just like everyone else.”

  “That was pretty spot on,” he grins. “But I can honestly say I never took her fishing, but Brynn was the one who wasn’t too big on getting her hands dirty.”

  He turns away from me when he says her name. Something tells me he isn’t talking about her getting her hands dirty cleaning fish, but something a lot more serious, like the hard times of raising a special needs child.

>   “Well, my grandma taught me how to clean fish and my grandpa taught me how to clean a deer. Not a squeamish bone in my body.”

  He grabs a box of Fish Fry out of his cabinet and then faces me. “You’ve cleaned a deer before?”

  “Damn straight,” I wink. “That twelve-point mounted in my grandparent’s house just so happens to be the one I killed with my bow. Don’t tell me you didn’t see my picture in the paper that year? It was our senior year.”

  “You might have to refresh my memory. I was working a lot that year.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. You were trying to save money for an engagement ring. All you ever did was work. That’s why we all hung out at your daddy’s shop and begged your mama to make us fried chicken.”

  The smile on his face fades and he turns his focus to the fish in the bowl on his counter. I search my brain for the right words to say and can only mumble an apology.

  “No need to apologize. It was years ago.”

  He says that, but it’s clear that I ruined the camaraderie we were sharing. He’s been laid back all day. Fun and easygoing. But any mention of the past, of Brynn, and he closes himself off.

  Chapter Eight

  Kaler

  Willow dips her fish into her ketchup, slathering the piece well, and then takes a bite, effectively covering both her hand and mouth with ketchup. She’s done this with every bite and each time she holds her hands out to me to wipe them off. She doesn’t like leaving the ketchup on there and she hasn’t mastered licking her fingers clean yet.

  “Pish,” she says, chewing happily. “And keshup.”

  “It’s delicious, right, Princess?” I ask her and she nods. “We have to thank Jenna for cooking.”

  Willow grins over at Jenna who smiles warmly back at her. It is good and I’m grateful Jenna also threw in some mac ‘n’ cheese. It’s one of Willow’s favorites, although she calls it corn for some reason. I assume it’s because they’re both yellow.