A Charmed Life

by Jenny B. Jones

chapter forty

  When girls are silent, everyone knows we’re mad—or up to something. But when guys play the quiet game, it’s just a big mystery. It could be anything from I’m ticked to I need a cheeseburger.

  “You haven’t said two words since we left the bank.” I stare across the dark SUV at Luke, watching the way the city lights play on his skin.

  He drives right by the carnival parking lot where my car waits, but he keeps going.

  “Um . . . if you’re planning on running away with me, I should warn you I have a psychotic friend with lethal talents.”

  Luke continues driving until he reaches the city park. Pulling into a spot, he kills the engine, walks around to my door, and holds it open. “Let’s talk.”

  I step outside and notice he doesn’t offer me his hand. “Okay.”

  What does this mean? Was Ashley Timmons right? Did Luke reach his expiration point for how much of my waffling he could take?

  Can’t a girl change her mind? Can’t a girl play hard to get? It works in the movies!

  Luke gestures to the swings. “Take a seat.”

  I lower myself into a seat that cups my butt in ways that remind me I’m no longer six. “Luke, I’ve been wanting to tell you that I—”

  “Bella”—he paces the dirt mound in front of me—“I can’t take this anymore. You obviously don’t want a relationship from me, aside from friendship, and I’ve come to realize despite all your flirting, that’s your final answer.”

  “But I’ve been flirting because I—”

  “If you don’t trust me by now, after all we’ve been through, then there’s nothing I can say or do to help you or change your mind. You have to work this stuff out on your own. But I won’t be waiting for you when you get it together.” He drags his fingers through his hair and continues wearing a trail in the ground. “I realize you’ve seen a lot of crap and guys have let you down. But I’ve more than proven myself. I thought at some point you could just follow your heart and see what we had. But now I know you’re just not ready. And I’m backing off, okay?” He stops abruptly and drags in a deep breath. “I don’t know what I am to you . . . but it’s not your boyfriend.”

  I watch a star fall in the sky beyond his shoulder. Leaning back, I push off with my feet and swinging once, I jump out right in front of Luke.

  “You’re always talking.” I shove his shoulder. “Always telling me how it is. Well, do you want to know how I think it is?”

  His Adam’s apple bobs. “I don’t think so.”

  “I think you’re the most amazing guy ever.” I watch him try to control his look of shock. “You’re one of my best friends. You make me laugh, you’re scary smart, and I always know you have my back. And Mr. Editor, more than anything, I want to be your girlfriend. And maybe I will be looking over my shoulder and waiting for something bad to happen between us, but that’s just going to take some time.” I step forward until we’re nearly nose to nose, and I clasp his hands in mine. “I’m crazy about you, Luke Sullivan. Tell me you’re still into me. Because if you’ve decided I’m too much trouble, I fully intend to sic Ruthie and her slingshot on you.”

  His lopsided grin has my heart tripping. “I’m still going to be bossy in journalism.”

  I roll my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Pivoting on my heel, I walk back to the swing and sit down.

  Luke follows. He wraps his hand around the chains and bends down, his lips a breath away from mine. “I thought I had lost you tonight.”

  I search his face. “We’ve suffered through maniac football players and that tiny explosion at prom. What’s a little smoke and flames?”

  “Are you sure this isn’t just hero’s syndrome? I save you and you get all gushy?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I never gush. But I also don’t share. No more hanging out with just Ashley and her brother. It’s not that I don’t trust you. But that girl is on the prowl.”

  He nods. “Done. I’ll only hang out with one Timmons—Kyle.”

  “Are you positive Ashley is out of the picture?”

  “She was never even an option. I’m afraid you’re it for me. It’s kind of like a disease. I call it the plague of Bella.”

  “You say the most romantic things, Chief.”

  “I am a writer.”

  I cover one of his hands with mine. “You might break my heart.”

  “It’s possible.” With gentle fingers, Luke caresses my jaw. “But I’m sure gonna try not to.”

  Luke pulls on the swing until his lips are a feather-light brush against mine. I slip my arms around his neck and curl my fingers in his hair. With his careful touch, I block out thoughts of evil and death. Memories of the haunted house burn away like ashes as I stand up and crush my mouth to his.

  He rains small kisses on the side of my lips, my forehead, and my cheek . . . then pulls my head to his chest and strokes my hair.

  “Luke?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “How are we going to handle dating and the newspaper?”

  He rubs the tension at the base of my neck. “I tell you what to do and you’ll ignore me.”

  “So . . . like normal?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Nothing like an attempt on your life to extend your school-night curfew. When I walk into my living room, it’s almost midnight. And the whole family is there.

  Including Jake.

  “Bella, good heavens.” The big guy rushes to me and nearly chokes me in his hug. “I came as soon as I heard.”

  “Um, Jake?” I step away. “Why are you still in your pirate uniform?” I stare at his gold vest and black stretchy pants.

  He shakes his head. “I was getting ready to go against Chainsaw when Mickey called. I rented a car and drove like a maniac. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I’m more than fine. I’m Luke Sullivan’s girlfriend! And I’m happy. “You didn’t need to drive all the way back just for me. We handled it.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell him.” Mom sits on the couch with her feet curled beneath her. Robbie lies in her lap, passed out and wrapped in his cape.

  “Close one tonight, sis.” Budge wiggles his bushy brows. “I almost got my bedroom back.”

  “You can bet your Wiener Palace flair I wouldn’t give in that easy.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jake clamps his arm around my shoulders. “I should’ve been here.”

  I lean into him. “Hey, relax. We understand.”

  Jake angles his head toward Mom. “No, there’s no excuse, and I’ve worn out your patience in understanding . . . I quit tonight.”

  “What?” Mom lurches to her feet, accidentally dumping Robbie to the floor.

  “Ow! Hey, what gives?” The little guy rubs his head.

  “On the long ride back to Truman, I had a lot of time to think.

  And I’m sick of living without my family.” Jake kisses me on the head. “I almost lost one of you tonight”—he frowns at me—“again.”

  I shrug. “Narrowly escaping death does seem to be one of my pastimes.”

  “Jake, you can’t just quit the WWT.” Mom moves beside us, and the wrinkle between her brows would have Dad breaking out the Botox. “This is your dream. You’ve worked too hard.”

  “For what?” Jake throws up his hands. “To leave you alone to raise our family? I need to be here—for you, for the boys, and for Bella.”

  Mom slants her eyes my way. “Keeping up with her does seem to be a full-time job.”

  “Jillian, I want my family back. This isn’t a decision I’ve just made in the heat of the moment. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I know this is the right thing to do.”

  I step aside as my mother curls her arm around her husband.

  “Are you sure? What will you do, Jake?”

  Budge groans and flops onto the couch with his brother. “Dad, you can’t go back to the pad factory.”

  “If that’s what it takes. I’ll do w
hatever I need to do to support this family and be at home with the ones I love.”

  “I think we should all join hands and sing a song now,” Robbie says. “Maybe a nice inspirational Josh Groban number?”

  “Dude, my gag reflexes are already being pushed to the limit.”

  Budge reaches for his Coke on the coffee table.

  “Are you sure about this?” Mom asks.

  “Looking at all your faces, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  “Aw.” She gives Jake a quick kiss on the lips. “Group hug! Come on!”

  Robbie, Budge, and I reluctantly make our way to our parents, piling arms and hands until we’re one big wad of family.

  “I love you, guys,” Jake says.

  “Love you!”

  “Love you too!”

  “Ditto.”

  We stay like that for a long while until my heart overflows, my arms ache, and . . . my eyes burn.

  “Budge . . . did you fart?”

  “Oops.”

  Ah, family.

  They may be crazy, but I’ll take them—the good, the bad . . . and the stinky.

  chapter forty-one

  Ruthie looks great in her graduation cap and gown,” Luke says beside me, fanning the both of us with a program in the heat of the evening.

  I watch my friend walk across the stage on the football field.

  The principal hands Ruthie her diploma, and she grins wide for the photographic moment. She shifts down the line to the superintendant, who frowns, then moves Ruthie’s tassel to the other side.

  “Her hat is pretty clever.” Budge snaps a picture on my other side.

  “And totally Ruthie.” Only Ruthie McGee would forego the graduation beanie and wear her motorcycle helmet. “But I like how her hair is in school colors.”

  Luke intertwines my fingers with his and leans over to Budge.

  “Has she decided what she’s going to do yet?”

  “Yeah. She had lots of offers, but she took the full ride from Tulsa University.”

  I blink. “That’s funny. I thought you just said—”

  Budge grins. “I did. My Ruthie-poo is one humble genius. Turns out she pretty much set the curve on the ACT last year. And of course, every college wants her for her unicycling ballet skills.”

  “Of course.” I laugh and clap for my friend as she leaves the stage.

  “Did you see the paper today?” I ask Budge.

  “Yeah, great article, you two. Pretty cool to get published on the front page of the Tulsa World. Wouldn’t you know Stewart would end up singing like Justin Timberlake in tight undies? And to think, Cherry’s parents had entrusted Betty with the key to the will. They all knew Red was bad news.”

  “And Alfredo,” Luke adds. “I guess we’ll never know if he really did fall in love with Betty.”

  “I think he did.” Even though the jerk nearly killed me, I still believe there’s a good heart in there somewhere. And love just found him unexpectedly.

  It happens to the best of us.

  I lean into Luke’s side and stare at the clouds lazily rolling along overhead. Truman, Oklahoma—who would’ve thought this would be home sweet home? Jake will start his new job next week as a commentator for World Wrestling Television. The show was furious that he left, but when my story hit the press, and the world knew why Jake left his match that night, America fell in love with my wrestling stepdad. And soon WWT was calling and begging him to come back. And he did. On his terms.

  Dolly proposed to Mickey last night at Sugar’s diner over a piece of lemon chiffon pie. That’s right—Dolly proposed. Mickey and Cherry said yes.

  And then there’s me.

  I don’t know what will happen with my dad. We’re talking more now, but it’s still awkward. Seventeen years is a long time to know someone—but not really know them. So we’re working it out. And now that he’s the temporary parent of an eight-year-old, he needs my support. Actually he needs the support of the entire National Guard, but so far they haven’t returned his calls.

  And I’m just taking it day by day—my relationship with Luke, my attempts to get a raise in my allowance for that new Chloe dress, and my new decision to keep my nose out of other people’s business.

  It’s just too risky! After all, God has given me a lot to live for.

  The graduates toss their hats in the air, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head when I see Ruthie’s helmet take out a science teacher on its descent.

  I curl my arm around Luke’s waist and walk toward the seniors to hug some friends.

  “Excuse me.”

  I turn at the tap on my shoulder and smile. “Yes?”

  A teenage girl steps close. “I’ve heard all about you, and I think I have your next job for you.”

  “Oh no.” My laugh is a tinkling bell on the wind. “I’m out of the business.”

  The girl doesn’t move. “I think my boyfriend is cheating on me, and I want you to investigate.”

  Luke’s smile is slightly indulgent. “She’s retired.”

  “Yeah, I can’t help you.” I’m walking the straight and narrow path.

  “Oh.” Her face falls. “That’s too bad. My aunt is a buyer for Gucci, and I was going to pay you in purses.”

  I eye her shiny green bag with appreciation. “Well . . . we could at least talk about a down payment.”

  To some, God gives the gift of encouragement, of teaching, maybe of mercy. But to me? Nosiness.

  And I’ve never been one to turn a gift away.

  acknowledgments

  If I had to write a book by myself, I’d still be scratching incoherent sentences in a one-subject notebook. It takes a lot of people to throw these things together, and I’m grateful for every soul who had a part.

  It is with huge amounts of gratitude that I thank:

  Natalie Hanemann, my fabulous editor at Thomas Nelson. Thank you so much for all you’ve taught me and for putting up with all my crazy e-mails and ramblings. And for understanding my pain and heartache over any video with Jillian Michaels’ name on it. But we are gonna be so toned this time next year. (Okay, you will. I have too much of a dependent relationship with Ben and Jerry’s. But I’ll cheer you on from afar.)

  Jamie Chavez, another amazing editor. I’m so lucky to work with this dynamic duo, and Jamie, I appreciate the friendship, the travel advice, and for pointing out all the dumb mistakes I make in every book. Like how there aren’t three days in a weekend. But you have to admit—it’s a nice idea.

  My family. Things always get crazy during deadline crunch time, and I’m so glad you haven’t locked all your doors and windows so I’d move on to another family. Thank you for embracing the inevitable fact that you are stuck with me. And that I require lots of chicken and steak dinners.

  My friends. For still talking to me after I turn into Deadline Medusa. Y’all are the best. Thank you for the laughs, the movie nights, and all our traveling adventures. And for tolerating my airplane takeoff/landing freak outs. It’s not that I’m scared. I’m just dramatically concerned.

  Chip MacGregor, the best agent and Ameri-Scotsman on the planet. Your zippy one-liners make my day, and your career advice is top-notch. I can’t imagine entrusting these big dreams to anyone else. Thanks for believing in me. (Hum Josh Groban as you read this paragraph for maximum effectiveness.)

  Erin Valentine, once again you have been such a huge source of help and support. Thank you for prereading the sloppy drafts, even when they make no sense and require a PhD in crazy to even read through them. I couldn’t do this without you.

  The sales and fiction staff at Thomas Nelson. Thank you for everything you do, and for making the job of writing books so worthwhile. I love you guys!

  My blog family at jennybjones.com. You guys are the most awesome Web family ever, and I love hanging out with you every week.

  You seriously brighten my days.

  My readers, the most amazing people on the planet. A handful of years into this wr
iting life, and I still cannot figure out why anyone would read my little stories. Voodoo? Trance? Brainwashing? I dunno, but please don’t find the antidote. I’m grateful to every one of you and pray for you often. Thank you for being a part of the ministry of fiction. Pass it on.

  Jeff Spivey, funeral director extraordinaire and former classmate. Thank you for answering my questions about burials without even blinking an eye. I don’t know how I can repay you for the information on digging up bodies, but if you figure out its favor equivalent, give me a shout.

  Tony Humphrey, a hero of a fireman and medic. I appreciate the help with answering my questions. Thanks for lending me your expertise. And for not laughing at my crazy inquiries. Or turning me over to the police . . .

  Ken “Bubba” Whillock, of the Arkansas State Police, for all the procedure assistance. That taser info might come in especially handy. Thank you for keeping Arkansas and Bella Kirkwood safe.

  Joel Dean, king of all things techie. I’m so thankful for your help through this series and for putting up with my dumb computer questions. I appreciate your time, patience, and for keeping your eye rolls to yourself.

  Finally, a huge acknowledgment to God. Every book takes me on a spiritual theme. I intend it for the characters, but somehow I get pulled in along for the ride. I’m so grateful for all You’re teaching me and the countless ways You’re blessing me. God is good. All the time. (Pass that on too.)

  reading group guide

  1. What do you think the title means?

  2. After Luke’s ex-girlfriend returned to Truman High, Bella didn’t handle it very well. What would you have done in her situation?

  3. In a carnival or circus, things are often not what they seem. Where else was this true in the book?

  4. What’s some advice you’d give to a friend who’s struggling with a parent’s remarriage? What would God want her to know?

  5. When Jake gets his dream job as a pro wrestler, things didn’t quite turn out like he or the family thought. How so? Describe a time when getting what you wanted wasn’t quite all you thought it would be.

  6. Bella ultimately forgives Hunter, her cheating ex-boyfriend, and resumes a friendship with him. Was this the right thing to do or should she have stayed away from him?