by Score, Lucy
“What are you going to do when you’re done with it?” I asked.
“I’m not really sure. I’m hoping to get a research job with a university or some academic organization.”
“Will you go back to Pittsburgh?” I pressed.
“I hope so. But I’m open to someplace new if the job fits. I don’t want to make any plans until I know where the job is, what the work is. What about you? Are you sticking around here?”
“I was just thinking about it. I haven’t decided. I have family here. But I don’t know if that makes it home.”
“What makes a place a home?” she asked.
“Are you analyzing me right now?” I teased.
“Aren’t you adorable? I analyze everyone.”
I nudged her, and we started for a pair of chairs on the edge of the action. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, doc.”
“Don’t even jinx me like that, Jonah. That doctorate is within reach, but I sure as heck don’t have it yet.”
“Stop stalling. Tell me everything that’s wrong with me.”
She snort-laughed, and it chased the shadows out of my chest.
“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re remarkably normal.”
“Considering?” I prodded.
“Considering that you grew up without a father,” she said.
That was probably high praise from someone with a background in psychology.
“Judging by how you interact with women,” she continued. “I would guess that your mother was strong, independent, but also loving. She taught you respect and didn’t let you feel like you were missing out on too much. How am I doing so far?”
I nodded slowly. “So far pretty spot on.”
She smiled smugly. “I thought so. Now, let’s dig below the surface.” She was warming to the topic.
“You show up here a week after the funeral of Jonah Bodine Sr., which suggests you were peripherally aware of him. Which in itself suggests you weren’t interested in developing a relationship with him. However, you were very much interested in meeting your half-siblings.”
“I spent most of my life hating Jonah Bodine,” I admitted. “In my mind, he ruined my mom’s life. She was working toward a degree. She could have had a career. Met a nice psychologist or lawyer or bartender. But he took that away from her.”
“He or you?” Shelby asked astutely.
“You’re annoyingly perceptive.”
“I do what I can,” she joked airily.
“Anyway, I hated my father for a long time. But at some point, I realized it had been the pregnancy and the resulting baby—me—who had derailed Mom’s life. She sacrificed it all to keep me.”
“And when you voiced this to your mother?” Shelby asked.
“How did you know?” I shook my head. “Never mind, creepy psychic woman. It gave me a few rough years in high school thinking that I was the problem. I had some anger issues. Acted out. Acted like a teenage asshole. But she never gave up on me.”
“Of course not. Probably because—and I’m just guessing here—she felt that her decisions had lessened your life in some way,” she mused.
“This is creepy. Is this what you do all day?”
Shelby laughed, and I liked the sound of it. “The reasons why people do things are fascinating. So tell me about your mom and your rocky teenage years.”
I was proud of how the two of us had come out of it. The choices we’d made. “She saw right through me, kept pushing until I blurted it out that she’d have been better off if I’d never been born.”
“And what did your mom say to that?”
“She called me a ‘sweet, kind-hearted idiot.’” I smiled remembering it. “Told me she would do it all over again because I was the best, brightest thing in her life, and she wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Now, that’s a good mom,” she said with satisfaction.
“The best. Once we had that out in the open, she dumped me in this teen weight-lifting program at a local gym. I found working out drained my anger, helped me focus. And the rest is history.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” she said, calling my bluff. “You went from an angry teen to a man who makes a living fixing people. What I want to know is what made you come here? You had to know for a long time there was a possibility that you had half-siblings. Something you easily could have discovered with the bare minimum of research.”
The subject of Rene sure was coming up a lot lately as if the universe was intent on making me work through it again. “There was a girl,” I said slowly.
“Aha!” she said triumphantly.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that preemptive victory,” I predicted.
“Spill it, my friend. Tell me about this girl.”
“Rene was pretty and interesting and smart. She was in commercial banking. Driven, focused. She knew what she wanted and how she was going to go get it. We met online, got paired up on a dating app, hit it off. She was into fitness and museums and had a whole Pinterest board dedicated to her future wedding. After a while, I could maybe start to see the possibility of me as the groom.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It was heading in that direction. We were still getting to know each other. And the more I got to know her, the more I liked her. And then she got sick.”
“Sick?” Shelby tensed beside me.
“It was a pretty aggressive cancer. And Rene didn’t want to divide her focus between a new relationship and a new diagnosis. One that didn’t have a positive prognosis. She told me she really liked me and she appreciated the time we’d had together but that she needed to put her energy into her health.”
“She dumped you because she had cancer?” she clarified.
I nodded. “Like I said, she knew exactly what she wanted and how she was going to get it. And I let her go.”
Shelby slumped in her chair. “Wow. And you’re using the past tense so…”
“The next time I saw her was at her funeral.” I could still see her, lying there looking perfect. But she was a stranger. And she was gone.
“Oh, Jonah,” she said softly.
“It’s fine,” I said, waving away her concern. “I let her push me away. She passed away. And then I saw my father’s obituary, saw that I had brothers and a sister.”
Shelby got out of her chair and slid neatly into my lap.
“What are you—?”
Her arms went around my neck.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
I let her hold me tighter. The tighter she held on, the looser the knot in my chest got. “Yeah, me too.” I sighed into her hair.
She held on for a while, and I wrapped my arms around her. We sat in silence. Listening to the crackle of the wood and flames, the laughter of friends, the symphony of the crickets and tree frogs.
The music changed again. Country still, but something slow about first-time love.
“Jonah?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna dance?”
15
Jonah
She’d left her hair down and loose tonight. The tips of it brushed my hand where it rested on her lower back. The firelight was soft on her face, flickering us into and out of shadow. Her eyes were more brown in this light, framed by the thick shock of bangs.
I let her lead me toward the fire, into the light and the warmth. Into the crowd of people who had once been strangers and were now friends, clients, neighbors.
“Do you miss her?” Shelby asked. “Your mom, I mean.” She slipped her arms around my neck.
Grateful that we were done talking about Rene, I nodded. “Yeah. We’re close. I need to think about flying home. Spending some time with her. What about you, your parents?”
“I miss them,” she confessed. “They’re kind of the best people.”
“You were adopted, right?” I asked.
She nodded and grinned. “Mom says they took one look at me and knew I was theirs. Sometimes adults who were
adopted as children can feel a kind of crushing sense of abandonment. Or a driving need to find their biological parents either for closure or to discover something about themselves… And I am talking your face off.”
I grinned. “I kind of like it. You don’t, do you? Feel abandoned I mean.”
She shook her head. “I was chosen because I was the missing puzzle piece, and I was loved just for existing. That’s a pretty great start to life.”
“Did you ever look for your biological parents?” I asked. I had. Even though I’d already known that Jonah Bodine was the kind of man to cheat on his wife and abandon a child.
“I did. I met my biological mother when I was seventeen and going through a ‘Yeah, but who am I really’ phase. I exchanged emails with my biological father, too. But there was no connection. There was no history between us. Nothing like what I share with my parents and GT. That history means a lot.”
“I don’t have a history with the Bodines,” I said, slowing our sway down to match the beat of the song.
“You’re building one. You’ve been here, what? A year? How many memories do you now have tied up in your brothers and sister? You’ve been here with them, facing the problems they’re facing. You helped them scare off the press, you gave the whole town something else to gossip about besides your father and his connection to a missing teenager.”
“Jonah Bodine’s bastard son,” I said. But the bitterness wasn’t as flavorful in my mouth anymore.
Shelby grinned. “There’s nothing more fun than an illegitimate child no one knew about showing up in town after a funeral. Not in Bootleg Springs.”
We laughed together. The shame of my background, my father, it had somehow lessened in the time I’d been here. Everyone here knew my secret: Rejected by my father. And everyone accepted it, didn’t blame me for it. There was a balm in that.
“So you fixed me. Whose left?” I asked, twirling her around and pulling her back into my arms. I liked this, I decided. Shelby Thompson in my arms was a new favorite thing for me, and I hadn’t the slightest idea what to do about it. I was so rusty at romantic feelings that I wondered if there were any salvageable moves left in me.
She glanced around the fire. “Well, there’s always Misty Lynn.”
The woman in question was currently wrapped around Rhett Ginsler like a poison ivy vine. Apparently, they’d made up.
“But you know, some people just shouldn’t be unraveled,” she amended.
“What about you?” I asked. I slid my hand down her back, pressing her just a little closer. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the back of my neck. I wondered if she knew she was doing it.
“Me? Oh, I’m easy,” she said cheerfully.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, gosh. I mean. Not that way. Not that I’m a prude. I like sex. Sex is great. I think I’m going to stop talking immediately.” She was talking fast, words tumbling out of her mouth in a torrent. She dropped her forehead to my chest, and I let out a quiet laugh.
“You’re quite a girl, Shelby Thompson.”
“Oh no. Don’t start with the first and last name thing. Did you notice how everyone is all ‘Scarlett Bodine’ or ‘Nash Larabee’? The only way you get out of it is if you already have two first names.”
“Gotta be a country thing.”
“There are so many country things.” She glanced around us, making sure no one was listening. “Sometimes I feel like I’m observing an entirely new culture.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time observing,” I said.
She leaned back, looked up. “Huh?”
“You spend an awful lot of time watching.”
“It’s called research, smarty pants,” Shelby argued.
“Research all you want. Just don’t forget to participate.”
“I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that I’m currently dancing with a very attractive man next to a bonfire under more stars than I’ve ever seen in my life. It feels quite participatory.”
“Very attractive, huh?” I teased.
“I had a feeling that part would stick.”
“Tell me something about you, Shelby. Tell me and the stars something you’ve never told anyone.”
She hesitated, and for a minute I thought she’d make another joke. “I work hard to be good enough.”
“Good enough for what?”
“Good enough so my parents never regret adopting me. Good enough so my biological parents might be sad that they missed out on me. Good enough that George is proud of me even though I’m not a well-compensated professional athlete. Good enough to finish a triathlon.”
Surprised, I nearly stopped the slow swaying of our bodies. “You know you’re good enough, don’t you?”
She grinned. “Most days. Other days I feel like I’m never going to finish my paper. Or I’ll never be able to run a faster mile.”
“If anyone can accomplish those things, it’s you, Shelby.”
She went wooden in my arms. “Jonah Bodine, are you seducing me?”
“I don’t really know. It’s been a long time for me, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump in with both feet. Also, you called me by both names.”
“Gosh dang it, it’s contagious. You know I had to glue my lips together yesterday when I saw Granny Louisa and Estelle at the Pop In? I wanted to ask them ‘How’s y’all’s day?’ Is y’all’s even a word?” She shook her head and started swaying off beat again. “Forget all that. You caught me off guard, and so I verbally exploded on you. Are you trying to seduce me?”
“I’m saying nice things. That doesn’t have to mean seduction,” I hedged.
I liked the way she felt in my arms. Liked the heat of our bodies as they pressed together. I could tuck her under my arm or rest my chin on her head.
“You’re looking at me like you’re thinking more than just nice things,” she breathed.
“Maybe I am.”
“Maybe it’s the gin.”
“Maybe it’s the girl.”
“Can someone cut the music?” It was Bowie yelling as he dragged Cassidy toward the fire. “I got somethin’ to say.”
Shelby and I paused mid-sway.
“What are you doing?” Cassidy demanded.
“What’s going on?” Shelby whispered.
“It looks like ‘real soon’ is happening now.”
“What?”
“Shh. Just watch.”
The crowd converged on the fire, ringing the couple. Whispers and expectations rose up like the smoke that curled into the night sky.
Sheriff Tucker, a smile under his mustache, wrapped his arms around his wife.
“Hit it, Gibs,” Bowie said, pointing at his brother perched on a stool with his trusty guitar.
Gibson started to play a soft, nimble melody. Devlin tightened his grip on Scarlett. “It’s happening. It’s really happening,” she squeaked, her eyes glistening with tears in the firelight. That happiness, that absolute joy for another human being, was one of the things I loved most about my sister.
“Cassidy Tucker,” Bowie began, taking her hand. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time to ask you something important.”
Her free hand flew to her mouth in a very un-Cassidy-like move. Deputy Tucker was almost always dignified, never surprised, and rarely speechless.
“Now, timing’s never been one of my strengths.” Bowie grinned. “But I’d like to make up for all that right now.” He held out a hand, and Sheriff Tucker stepped forward, dropping a small black box into it. “Thank you, sir.”
The sheriff gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder and returned to Nadine.
Tears tracked their way down Cassidy’s pretty face.
I felt goosebumps rise on Shelby’s arms and laughed softly. Women and other women’s proposals. It was a natural phenomenon.
“Is this really happening?” Cassidy whispered to Bowie.
Devlin clapped a hand over Scarlett’s mouth before she could give a good “Hell yes.”
Jameson and L
eah Mae edged over to us. I gave my brother a nod.
He grinned back at me, and in that smile, I could see the anticipation for his own moment with Leah Mae.
Bowie lowered to the ground on one knee. “Now, as I was saying, I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time, Cass. I thought about all the right things to say. All the ways to tell you that you’re so much a part of me, I feel like I carry your heart in my chest.”
The women in the crowd sighed collectively, Shelby included.
“But I realized that it doesn’t matter what words I use. Or how I ask the question. It just matters what your answer is. And that we’re not going to waste another second of our lives.”
Cassidy was nodding and nodding.
“It all went real wrong for us at a bonfire about a hundred years ago,” he continued. “And now I’m gonna make that as right as I can. Be my wife, Cassidy Ann. Be my partner. My lover. The mother of my kids. Be the keeper of my heart and the bright spot of my every day for the rest of my life.”
“Yes, Bowie Bodine. Yes!” she croaked, dragging him to his feet as the crowd cheered.
“Cass, honey, I didn’t even get the box open.”
“I don’t care! I don’t care if it’s a damn bat in the box. We’re getting married!”
He picked her up and twirled her in the firelight, in the circle of the people who’d loved them best their whole lives.
Shelby sniffled in front of me. And damn if my throat didn’t feel just a little tight.
“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” Leah Mae sighed as a tear slipped down her face.
Bowie and Cassidy sealed the deal with a kiss that garnered hoots and hollers of appreciation. Cassidy hugged her parents while the Bodines converged on Bowie, and the lovefest was on.
* * *
Q. Do you ever feel lonely?
Jimmy Bob Prosser: Unfortunately, I am one to succumb to the draw of loneliness. I get to interact with family, friends, and neighbors all day long in the store. But along comes closing time and I know there’s no one waiting for me upstairs. I hope someday there will be someone again. I miss having someone. I don’t need much. Just a hand to hold while the TV’s on or someone to pick up flowers for. Someone to fix a leaky faucet for. I’m hopeful. A little lonely, but mostly hopeful.
