The projection screen flashed to the next picture, but the hands that had so heartily joined together moments ago, stopped—dead.
She heard Em’s shrill scream just before the silence. From the corner of her eye, Dixie caught her covering her mouth in order to muffle it.
There were gasps from the crowd—piercing and outraged.
There were faint whispers—hissed and uncomfortable.
Then there was silence, and nothing but Gareth’s words when he placed his chubby hands on each of her cheeks and stared down at her with stoic confusion. “Miss Dixie, that ain’t my daddy up there. That’s a lady.”
A lady?
Oh, sweet fancy Moses, no.
Nineteen
The silence that met Dixie’s ears was deafening. No one moved for what felt like an eternity while she put two and two together.
No.
Dixie tore her eyes from Gareth’s face and looked up at the screen behind Mayor Hale’s receding hairline.
No.
She closed her eyes tight. Please. Please, whoever’s in charge, you can have whatever you want from me, if when I open my eyes, this all turns out to be a horrible dream.
Her eyes popped open again followed by her mouth.
Clifton swam before her line of vision, larger than life. But he wasn’t the Clifton of the plaid flannel hunting jacket and John Deere ball cap.
He was, according to the small bio beneath his picture, Trixy LeMieux and second runner-up in the Atlanta Miss Cross Dresser 2014 pageant.
Dixie’s eyes widened as she absorbed Clifton dressed as a woman. He wore a sapphire dress, dazzling in sequins from his toes to the curve-hugging bodice where breasts spilled from the sleeveless frock.
Enviable silver stilettos with black, glossy heels, pointed outward in a pose reminiscent of Miss America, from beneath the tapered hemline. He wore heavy makeup, thickly applied to his jaw to cover his stubble line, flirty false eyelashes, silver and pink glitter eye shadow, and bloodred lipstick. The crown on his head sat atop long, thick locks in a gleaming ebony where they fell, tumbling into an enormous bouquet of red roses.
Clifton eyed the camera with a half smile as kittenish as any Dixie’d ever been able to produce. Yet there was something in his eyes, something that stuck with her. He looked happy. Happy and alive.
As the yelling around her reeling head began to penetrate her slow-motion brain, Dixie clung to Gareth, instinctively spinning around so he wouldn’t see any more, making a frantic search for Em.
Em stormed toward her, her fists tight at her sides, her feet crashing against the ground. “Give me my child,” she seethed between her clenched teeth, her red lips twisted into a sneer.
“Em! Oh, God, how can I help?” Who would have done something like this? How had someone found out?
Em handed Gareth to her mother who had Clifton Junior by the hand. “Take them where they can’t hear me, Mama,” she ordered in a tone that held one part ferocious, two parts livid. The three scurried off into the dark, their backs becoming tiny dots until the night swallowed them up.
Dixie gripped Em’s arm in an urgent gesture. All she needed to do was get her away from the gaping, judgmental eyes of all of Plum Orchard. They’d figure out the rest when they found somewhere more private than the square. “Hold on to me. I’ll get you out of here.”
“The—hell—you—will!” she roared. She yanked her arm from Dixie’s grasp and shook her off with a hard shove.
The crowd of people around them parted, making a half circle of more astonished eyes. Nanette and Essie hovered on the fringes of the circle, arms hooked together, eyes narrowed in Dixie’s direction.
Dixie frowned, not understanding. “Em! C’mon. Let’s get out of here!”
Instead of accepting Dixie’s hand, Em circled her, her chest heaving beneath the scooped neckline of her red dress. Her sweet face, always so open and warm, was a closed mask of barely contained anger. Her mouth twisted into a sneer. “I’d rather be flayed alive under the noonday sun and have vinegar poured in my open wounds than ever go anywhere with you again, Dixie Davis!”
Startled, Dixie still didn’t understand the words coming from her person’s mouth. “What?”
Em moved in on her, shoving her face at Dixie, her finger pointed and suddenly digging into the spot beneath Dixie’s collarbone as if she was hammering a nail. “What?” She mimicked Dixie’s surprise in a sticky-sweet impression, giving her a poke so full of rage, it knocked Dixie backward. “Poor, poor persecuted Dixie. Everyone’s always picking on sorry little ol’ you. Don’t you pull that—that—” she jammed her face farther into Dixie’s “—bullshit with me! Don’t you dare ‘what’ me like you’re all innocence and light! You were only one of two souls alive who knew about Clifton. You don’t expect me to believe it was Marybell, do you? Do you?” she screamed.
Dixie’s heart throbbed in her ears while ice ran in her veins. “Em! No! I swear to you on everything I have, I didn’t tell anyone. I made a promise to you—”
Em’s snort ripped through the strange quiet of the square, cutting her off. “Just like you made a promise to Caine, Dixie? You’re a filthy liar and a disgraceful human being. I told you, Dixie. I warned you, if you hurt my boys, you’d pay!”
Dixie was too stunned to speak. Her instinct to run, to hide from such a horrible accusation was thwarted only by the fleeting thought that this was what vengeance, the karma she so deserved, was all about.
But Em couldn’t possibly believe she’d told anyone her secret. “Em, please.” She reached for Em’s arm only to have it snatched from her vicinity as if she was riddled with plague.
Dixie held up her hands and backed away, forcing herself to remain calm. There was an explanation. There had to be an explanation. “Please listen to me. I would never, ever hurt those boys. I would never hurt you. I know I’ve said things like this before, but I swear to you, I never told a soul. Not a solitary soul. No one talks to me, Em. Everyone treats me like the town pariah. Think about that. Who’d listen to me if I told them anyway?” Dixie’s eyes sought Em’s, pleading, blinking back tears.
“Ohhh, you’re good, Dixie. So, so good,” she said with dripping sarcasm. “Those big, wide eyes, those crocodile tears. I’m sure you’d love me to believe that, wouldn’t you? Stupid Emmaline, always chasin’ after the trail of pathetic breadcrumbs you leave in your wake like some lovesick puppy. I’m sure you’d love for me to believe you had nothing to do with this so I could go on bein’ your loyal minion. Well, no—more!” she bellowed.
Dixie held her ground. She ignored the spiteful eyes of the Mags, and the disgusted eyes of the Senior Mags. She turned her cheek to the onlookers, gawking at her public demise with knowing nods of their heads.
One more time, she forced herself to stay calm even as her stomach rebelled. “Em, I’m begging you. Please listen to me. Let’s go somewhere where we can sit down and talk about this rationally, and you’ll see I’m telling you the truth. I did not tell anyone. No one.”
“Well, you musta told someone, Dixie! You might not have done that,” she pointed at the projection screen, still displaying the damning image of Clifton/Trixie. “But it got out somehow!”
Dixie shook her head, fighting her hysteria in order to make Em believe her. “Em, I’m telling you the truth—”
“The truth? You wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped you in your two faces! Maybe you just wanted back in with those disgusting Mags, and this was your way to get it. A big juicy bit of gossip for you to spread like the vermin you all are.” Em whipped around, turning her rant to the crowd, her eyes wild and shining with fury even as tears streamed from her eyes. “And yes!” she yelled, her scream coming out harshly hoarse, her finger stabbing out her targets. “I called the lot of you vermin, always takin’ pleasure in someone else’s pain. You he
ar me, Louella Palmer, Annabelle Pruitt, and Lesta-Sue Arnold? I meant all of you with your vicious mouths and backstabbin’ ways! Be warned, Dixie, you will pay for hurting my children! I hope you all, and especially you, Dixie Davis, rot in hell!” she spat before spinning around and running toward the curb.
Dixie watched as Em careened right into the man who’d watched her while he played catch with his little girl. He righted her with large hands, his eyes under the streetlamp full of concern, before Em let out a sharp cry and tore herself from his reach.
Dixie closed her eyes and swallowed so hard, she was sure it echoed around the square. The eyes of Plum Orchard burned holes into her back as sure as if they were holding lit matches to her skin.
And still, she couldn’t move. Not as their horror over Em’s accusations sank in, and the twitter of chatter ignited. Not even as some residents made wide circles around her as if her mere existence would bring them harm.
She didn’t move an inch, not a muscle. For all the hurt that had resulted from the cruel pranks she’d once perpetrated, she would not run from everyone’s chance to finally hold her accountable.
She lifted her chin and let them all look, refusing to look away. Let them nod their heads as if to say, No big surprise here.
As she stared straight ahead, she almost wished Caine were here. Funny, even though she’d resolved to end things between them she still looked for him, needed his chest to bury her face in.
In her head, she heard Landon’s voice, Sugarpie, someday, for all the mean things you’ve done, you’re gonna have to pay the piper, and I’m bettin’ it won’t be pretty.
Someday had arrived.
* * *
She didn’t know how long she stood there. The only thing she could see was Em’s face, angry and riddled with hurt, and it had immobilized her.
The only thing she could hear was Em’s stifled cry of shock, Gareth’s innocent question, Clifton Junior’s tears as he sobbed, and Em’s damning words. You’re a filthy liar. A disgraceful excuse for a human being! over and over again as though someone had pressed replay.
If it had only been minutes, it certainly felt like an eternity judging from her stiff legs and ice-cold hands. Whether she breathed during that time also escaped her, though when she finally exhaled, she almost gagged.
The litter in the deserted square came into focus, just as the goose bumps on her arms made her shiver. Her clenched fingers, achy and tight, released. She shook them, looking down to find they were red and splotchy from the cold.
Dixie wrapped her arms around her waist and sank to her haunches, taking slow, deep breaths, aching for Em and the boys. How could she make this right so Em would allow her to help her through this?
“If it isn’t Plum Orchard’s favorite snitch.”
Her head snapped up to see Louella, smiling down at her, ankles crossed, arms folded at her chest and eyes full of smug delight.
Dixie buried her face in her arms. “Go away, Louella,” she mumbled into her folded arms, not caring that she was obviously here to gloat.
Louella toed the grass at Dixie’s feet with her royal blue pump. “Somebody had a rough night.”
Misery prevented Dixie from rising. Everything in her hurt. “Somebody asked you to go away.”
“What comes around goes around, they say.”
“Then they enjoyed a little full circle tonight, didn’t they?”
Louella’s laughter slipped from her lips. “I’ll say. You really did it this time, Dixie. This was almost as good as your engagement party.”
Her pride nudged her from the inside. Just because you’re paying for all those sins, doesn’t mean you have to be Louella’s whipping boy. Stand up, Dixie. Look her in the eye, take it like a man, but don’t take it sitting down.
Dixie pushed off her knees with her hands and rose. “Okay, you’ve had your due, right? See mean Dixie taken down a notch while everyone points and laughs. But in the process someone was hurt, Louella. Someone who’s always kind to everyone. Worse, there were children involved. I can’t think of anything more despicable than involving innocent children.”
Louella’s eyes shifted from smug to dark for a fleeting moment before settling on haughty. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you told everyone her secret. Who knew the king of the rednecks liked sparkly pretties? Surprise!”
Her anger spiked hard and fast, and it was all Dixie could do not to snake her hand out and flatten her palm against Louella’s taut cheek. “Don’t speak those words to me, Louella. I won’t defend myself to the likes of you, but I won’t have you speak about Em or Clifton that way either. Em’s the most decent human being I know. How dare you poke at her when she’s hurting so badly.”
“You mean just like you used to do?”
“Is that enough? Or do you want blood?” Dixie held out her wrists as an offering.
Louella made a face and rolled her eyes. “No. I just want you gone. You’re bad news, Dixie. Everybody knows it. So why don’t you go on back to Chicago, and take your bevy of trashy women with you.”
Suddenly, she was bone-weary. Exhausted from either having her guard up all the time, or trying to live down her bad reputation. “Look, Louella, let’s just call a truce, okay? I’m asking you this because, though there were plenty of bad times, we had some good ones, too.”
Louella put a finger to her chin as if in thought. “You mean like the time you knew I was crazy about Caine and you went out with him anyway? That was super good.”
Dixie’s sigh was ragged. “Okay, it’s time for some reality here. You’ve let this eat you up for too long, and you’ve lost perspective. First, I wasn’t in that bet alone. Second, you couldn’t have known you loved Caine any more than I did. You’d been on one date with him. The rest was just hero-worship from afar, a high school crush. How do you know you would have fallen in love with him? Maybe you would have hated each other.”
“Or maybe we wouldn’t have,” she said angrily. “You didn’t exactly give him the chance to find out before you were all over him like some kind of fungus. You knew how I felt about him, and you chased after him anyway. So we’ll never know, will we?”
Someone needed to give Louella the cold splash of reality she so deserved. She was so eaten up by her petty jealousy and anger she was headed straight for where Dixie was right now. “Obviously, he didn’t want to find out, Louella. He didn’t ask for another date. I’m not saying that to be cruel. I’m just saying it because it’s the truth. But you won anyway, didn’t you? You won big. Remember the microphone suspiciously placed by your phone at our engagement party? Remember the chaos?” The fire that broke out when Dixie had chased after Caine and knocked down all those beautiful candles. The pounding thunder and rain that had come out of nowhere like some foreboding sign.
God, she’d never forget the words she’d said. I win, you lose, Louella Palmer! That’ll teach you to bet Dixie Davis when it comes to a marriage proposal. Wish Caine and I lots of little Donovans.
“You righted all the wrongs. We broke up. I can’t figure why you’re still so angry about it almost ten years later. You won in the end.”
“I did that to right a potential wrong, Dixie. Marrying you was wrong. No man should marry a woman who was just in it to do a victory lap. You didn’t deserve Caine then, and you don’t deserve him now.”
More truth. But she still had an ounce left of reason in her, and she was going to spend it on Louella because she had nothing to lose. “But I don’t have him now. So if you still want him so badly, why don’t you go get him? You got him mere minutes after I left our engagement party, right? Isn’t that what you told Em and the rest of the Mags?”
Louella’s mouth opened to construct a plausible denial, but Dixie held up a hand to stop her. “Let’s lay all our cards on the table. You wanted me to believe you’d slept wi
th Caine. Please don’t insult me by denying it. You wouldn’t have told the Mags, and Em specifically, if you didn’t. It’s a weapon to hurt me, but I’m here to tell you, whether you did or not, I’m over it. Caine was a free man, and you were free, too. Isn’t the knowledge that it would hurt me enough payback for what I did? And if it isn’t, what is? What will ever be enough?”
Dixie got the impression Louella didn’t know the answer to that question any more than she did. “You’re a sad excuse for a human being, Dixie. You turn my stomach.”
She didn’t have the energy left to fight with Louella when the very thought of what Em was going through was on the table. “Yes, yes, yes, Louella. I was a horrible person. Said it a hundred times since I’ve been back. The point is I’m trying to be better, but you’re taking up where I left off. Do you want to end up like me? Like this? Didn’t you just bear witness to what happens when you’re an absolute bitch? It bites you in the ass.”
Louella’s face had disbelief written all over it. “When did this change come about? I’d love to know. We’d all love to know, in fact. Care to share what made coldhearted snake Dixie turn into Dixie-Do-Gooder?”
No. There’d be no sharing something that was none of her business. It was personal and a deep pain she’d live with always. Ignoring the question, Dixie appealed to Louella from a different angle. “Here’s the score. The girls and I aren’t hurting anyone. We’re just trying to make a living. Why does that make you see red? Is it because I’m involved in it? Are you just out to make me miserable simply because I exist? Because I have some news for you, I plan to exist for a long time.”
Louella’s silence gave Dixie hope she was at least reaching her.
She stuck her hand out to Louella, an olive branch of fingers attached to a wrist. “So can we just let this grudge go, please? People who had nothing to do with what happened between us are getting hurt. LaDawn and Marybell have never uttered an unkind word to you, so why involve them? To hurt me? There’s nothing you have left in your bag of tricks that can hurt me, Louella. I’m all hurt out. Everyone knows everythin’ there is to know about my jaded past. All the sharp thorns left in my backside have scarred over.”
Talk Dirty to Me Page 28
