Catching Fireflies

by Sherryl Woods

“Only for a second,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you even for that long.”

  She nudged him in the ribs. “You still fought for me. Thanks for that.”

  “Nobody talks about my sister the way the guys at school were talking,” he said with bravado. “I don’t care how many times I get a black eye. I’ll always defend you.”

  Touched, Misty hugged him fiercely until he complained.

  “Stop!” he pleaded.

  “You defend me, you get hugs.”

  “Even though my ribs hurt?”

  She frowned at him. “How bad did this fight get?”

  He gave her an offhand shrug. “Bad enough.”

  “Are you in trouble at school?”

  “No, I waited till I was off school property before I caught up with them. Smart, huh?”

  “I guess we’ll know when we find out how many calls mom and dad get from the kids you beat up.”

  He winced. “I never thought of that. Do you think they’ll tell? If it were me, I wouldn’t want my folks to know that some kid beat me up because I was saying lousy stuff about his sister.”

  Misty regarded him with surprise. Apparently Jake had both a code of honor and common sense. It gave her a whole new sense of appreciation for a boy she’d mostly thought of as an annoying pest.

  * * *

  J.C. had worked up a pretty good sweat at the gym. He knew he was trying to sublimate the desire to call Laura. Their date had gone a little too well. Not only had he opened up to her in ways he’d never expected to, but the attraction he felt to her had intensified. He’d resisted the urge to kiss her when he’d dropped her off at her apartment, but just barely. Something told him that once he’d crossed that line, he’d be lost, all of his resolve wiped out in an instant.

  Glancing across the gym, he noticed that Cal’s workout seemed a little more intense than usual, as well. Wiping his face with a towel, he crossed the room.

  “Everything okay? You look thoroughly ticked off about something.”

  “You have no idea,” Cal muttered, putting the weights he’d been lifting back onto the stand. “Do you have some time? I’d like to talk this through with an objective outsider. Something tells me you’d be the perfect person.”

  “Sure. I can spare some time,” J.C. said. If it would keep him from going home to an empty house yet again, he could spare a lot of time.

  “Let’s grab a couple of drinks in the café and sit out on the deck. I don’t think anyone’s out there. We’ll need some privacy for this.”

  In the café Cal grabbed two bottles of water. “You hungry? Want anything else?”

  “Water’s good,” J.C. said, accepting one of the bottles.

  “Put ’em on my account,” Cal told the young man behind the counter, then led the way outside.

  Dusk had already fallen. Though the air felt more like a humid summer day than late fall, there was a faint breeze stirring the oaks that shadowed the deck. There was the scent of some sort of flower in the air, though J.C. had no idea what it might be. It smelled nice—a lot like Laura’s perfume, now that he thought about it.

  “What’s up?” he asked when Cal seemed to be lost in thought.

  “Just trying to figure out how much of this I can tell you.”

  “I’m good at keeping secrets,” J.C. reminded him. “The whole patient-confidentiality thing is great training.”

  “Right,” Cal said, looking satisfied. “I know you’ve been worried about Misty Dawson.”

  J.C. paused before the bottle of water reached his lips. “I have been.”

  “Well, I think it’s about to get really ugly.”

  Cal described what he’d been told about an incident at school between Annabelle Litchfield and Cal’s stepdaughter. “I don’t know exactly what set Katie off like that, but it had to be really bad,” Cal said. “She’s a pretty even-tempered kid.”

  “And Laura stepped in?” J.C. asked.

  Cal nodded. “And apparently knew enough about what’s been going on between Annabelle and Misty to convince Betty not to punish Katie.”

  “How about Annabelle?”

  “She’s off the hook for the moment.”

  J.C. was startled. “How can that be?”

  “Annabelle’s mother,” Cal said succinctly. “The principal is not going to mete out punishment to Annabelle until she knows with a hundred percent certainty that Mariah doesn’t have a leg to stand on when she leaps to her daughter’s defense. I can’t blame Betty for that. Mariah’s a terror when she’s on a tear.”

  “So I’ve heard. How’d Laura handle all this?”

  “I think it shook her up, but she’s steady as a rock. She never once wavered in her belief that Katie was in the right. I have to respect her for that, especially when she knows it’s likely to make her Mariah’s first target.”

  J.C. regarded him with real concern. “How bad could this get for her?”

  Cal actually chuckled for the first time since the somber conversation had started. “Thought that might be your first worry. It could get bad for a time, but Laura’s tough enough and determined enough to weather whatever happens. And if these suspicions about the bullying are confirmed, the whole town would turn out on Laura’s side if necessary. We had a few incidents over the years, and the entire community has come down hard on the kids involved. Everyone wants to send the message that being bullied is not just an acceptable part of growing up. It’s inexcusable, no matter what form it takes.”

  J.C. nodded. “Good to hear, and you’ve just confirmed my impression of Laura. Misty and Katie are lucky to have her in their corner.”

  Cal gave him a long look. “How about you? Are you lucky to have her in your life these days?”

  J.C. thought about denying that she was in his life, but he doubted Cal—or anyone else in town—would believe him. “Yeah, I’m pretty darn lucky, too.”

  And more aware of it by the day.

  11

  Laura was completely drained by the time she got home. She’d never been more grateful to have an entire evening stretching out ahead of her with absolutely nothing to do. She’d finished grading tests before leaving school. Her lesson plan for tomorrow was in place. She could soak in a bubble bath, have a glass of wine and a slice of leftover pizza, then crawl into bed with a book.

  However, before she’d even glanced through the day’s mail, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Annie, Raylene and Sarah on her doorstep, laden with bags that seemed to be overflowing with chips and who knew what else.

  “Did we have plans?” she asked, knowing perfectly well that they didn’t.

  “Nope, but I heard from my mom that you’d had a really lousy day,” Annie said, “so we’re here to offer moral support. It’s what Sweet Magnolias do. Mom, Maddie, Jeanette and Helen couldn’t make it, but we’ve pretty well nailed the routine by now. Raylene can almost make Helen’s lethal margaritas.”

  “What do you mean, almost?” Raylene said indignantly. “The last ones I made knocked you on your butt.”

  Annie grinned. “But I’m a lightweight. And I’m not sure knocking us on our butts is supposed to be the purpose. I think they’re just intended to create a relaxing buzz.”

  “Well, I can do that, too,” Raylene said, then turned to Laura. “Do you have a blender?”

  “Sure.”

  “Plenty of ice?”

  “Yes, but no lime juice or tequila,” Laura said.

  “Oh, we have the necessary ingredients,” Raylene said. “We never go anywhere without being prepared.”

  “Then let’s get this party started,” Annie said exuberantly.

  Sarah grinned at Laura. “You look a little shell-shocked. Maybe you should just have a seat in the living room and let us do the work. We’ll find whatever we need.”

  Though she didn’t doubt for a second that they could easily handle the preparations, Laura couldn’t seem to stop herself from following along as they pulled together what
looked like an entire meal, plus margaritas, in less than fifteen minutes.

  “I cheated,” Annie admitted. “Mom made the guacamole. It takes her maybe two minutes. It would take me forever, and it wouldn’t be half as good.”

  “I just bought stuff,” Sarah confessed. “Any actual cooking was done by Raylene, so it’s guaranteed to be edible. She might not be a chef, and I would never say this in front of Dana Sue, but I swear Raylene’s every bit as good as she is.”

  “Believe me, Mom already knows that,” Annie said. “I caught her asking Raylene for a recipe the other day.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  Raylene nodded. “She did,” she confirmed, her expression smug. “I’m not allowed to tell which one, because she intends to put it on the menu at Sullivan’s. I gave her permission to take total credit for it.”

  “How is that fair?” Annie protested.

  Raylene shrugged. “I’ll know. That’s what counts. I think it’s amazing that your mom, the most celebrated chef in this region, wanted my recipe.”

  Laura allowed the chatter to surround her, feeling herself relax without even the first tiny sip of a margarita. It was enough that these three women had heard something about her lousy day and shown up here to bolster her spirits.

  Raylene poured the margaritas into the glasses they’d also brought along, handed them around, then held hers up. “To margarita nights and friends,” she toasted.

  Laura joined in, took a sip of the drink and nearly choked. “It’s a little strong, don’t you think?”

  “I used Helen’s recipe and dialed it back a notch,” Raylene argued.

  Annie grinned. “Then we have a new lightweight!” she said triumphantly. “I am so glad it’s no longer just me.”

  “Okay, everybody, get some food, then let’s have a seat before we fall down,” Sarah said, and turned to Laura. “Then you can fill us in on what happened at school today.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Laura protested.

  “It’s okay,” Annie said. “I think I already know most of the details. I’ll talk. Laura, you can correct me if I get it wrong. That way you won’t be telling tales out of school, so to speak.”

  Astounded that Annie thought she already knew the details, but not seriously doubting her word, Laura merely nodded.

  Once they were all in the living room and had made a serious dent in the burritos, black beans and rice that Raylene had made, along with a lot of chips, salsa and very spicy guacamole, Annie reported what her mother had told her about the incident at school.

  To Laura’s surprise, none of the women seemed especially surprised to hear that Annabelle Litchfield might be bullying another girl.

  “It’s that mother of hers,” Sarah said knowingly. “Mariah’s something else. You know she put the moves on Travis, right?”

  Even Raylene and Annie looked startled. “Did you ever tell us that?” Annie said. “When?”

  “Fourth of July, after he went on the air and praised Annabelle’s rendition of the national anthem during the holiday celebration on the town green. I walked back into the studio, and there she was gushing and practically throwing herself at him.”

  “What did Travis do?” Raylene asked.

  “Not enough, in my opinion. He just thanked her for stopping by. I wanted to rip her hair out. Took me a while to accept that he was being polite and that my reaction might be a little over the top, to say nothing of very bad PR for the station.”

  “You didn’t think Travis was interested, did you?” Annie asked with a frown. “That might have been early on, but everybody knew you were the only woman in town he had eyes for.”

  Sarah nodded. “I was still having a little trouble believing that back then.” She grinned. “Not so much now.”

  “Well, I should hope not,” Laura said. “I still have to fan myself when I hear the two of you on the radio. That man seriously has the hots for you.”

  Sarah’s smile spread. “He does, doesn’t he? How amazing is that? And he’s my husband!”

  Annie turned her attention to Laura. “Speaking of men, Mom also gave me a full report on your dinner with J.C. at Sullivan’s.”

  “Do tell,” Raylene said with interest.

  Laura blushed furiously. “Come on, you guys. It was just dinner.”

  “But you do like him, right?” Sarah pressed. “I mean, what woman wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous. He’s successful. And until now he’d been determinedly unattainable. How’d you pull off the coup, Laura?”

  “By being irresistible, obviously,” Annie said, grinning at Laura. “Give the woman some credit. She’s as much of a catch as he is.”

  “Well, that goes without saying,” Raylene said. “In fact, I’d say Laura’s the bigger prize. J.C. has stayed in practice with Bill Townsend. That’s not much of a recommendation.”

  “Hold on,” Annie protested. “Even Maddie doesn’t hold that against him. She takes the kids to J.C. and recommended him to me when I refused to take mine to Bill.”

  Sarah nodded. “Remember, it was Maddie who pressed Bill to hire him in the first place before her marriage to Bill blew up. She even interviewed J.C. herself and thought he was a good fit for Serenity.”

  “I still say that affiliation makes him suspect,” Raylene said stubbornly. “And if Maddie were being a hundred percent truthful, she’d tell you that, too. I’ll bet the only reason she takes the kids to J.C. is because she won’t go near her ex-husband, and the only other pediatricians are miles away. No mom wants a doctor for her kids who isn’t readily accessible.”

  Laura listened to them with amusement. “So, does J.C. get a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down?” she asked in jest. “Not that you all have a say. I’m just curious.”

  “Thumbs-up,” Annie said at once.

  “I agree,” Sarah replied.

  “And I’m on the fence,” Raylene said. “If Maddie, Dana Sue and Helen were here, I imagine there’d be more thumbs-down votes.”

  “Helen’s jaded,” Annie said. “It’s all those divorces she’s handled. She never forgives any man who’s hurt one of her friends the way Bill hurt Maddie. She’d dislike J.C. on the principle of guilt by association. She’s still a little cautious around my dad, though since he and Mom reconciled, Helen’s tried to forget that she basically wiped the floor with him in the divorce. Dad’s made it easier, because he hasn’t held a grudge. In fact, one of his favorite sports is getting under Helen’s skin.”

  Laura sat back. “I just love the dynamics in this town.”

  “How about margarita nights?” Annie asked hopefully. “Are you game for the next full-fledged one?”

  “Count me in,” Laura said. The margaritas might not matter one way or the other, but the friendship these women had demonstrated by showing up here tonight was priceless.

  * * *

  J.C. had been calling Laura for hours but had yet to reach her. His conversation with Cal had worried him. He had a hunch she’d taken today’s incident at school to heart. Sure, she’d handled it with quiet strength, but the situation was far from resolved. She was bound to be worrying herself sick over Misty. He was feeling pretty stirred up about the latest twist in the situation himself.

  When he couldn’t stand it another minute, he got into his car and drove over to Laura’s apartment. He arrived around ten, just in time to see Annie Townsend, Sarah McDonald and Raylene Rollins emerge from the building. They looked a little wobbly to him, too wobbly to be behind the wheel of a car.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said.

  “It’s J.C.,” Annie said exuberantly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on Laura. How about you?”

  “We had a margarita night at her place,” Sarah said.

  He frowned. “A margarita night? What exactly is that?”

  “Something Sweet Magnolias throw whenever someone needs support after a tough day,” Annie explained, seeming to choose her words carefully.


  “So a fair amount of tequila has been consumed this evening,” he concluded, fighting a grin.

  “A lot,” Sarah said, her head bobbing like one of those ridiculous dolls.

  “I think I’ve gotten the picture,” he said. “How about I give you all a lift home? Seems to me it would be a shame if the wife of the chief of police got picked up for DUI.” He looked pointedly at Raylene when he said it.

  “Not driving,” she said. “She is.” She pointed to Annie, who frowned. “Or is it Sarah? Don’t we have a designated driver?”

  J.C. shook his head. “Given the universal state of wobbliness I’m seeing here, my guess is no. Come on. I’ll take you.”

  The three women piled into his car without protest. They even managed to direct him to their respective homes. He dropped Raylene off last.

  “I take back what I said earlier,” she said as she exited the car.

  “What did you say earlier?”

  “That I was on the fence about whether you were a prince or a jerk, or something like that. Turns out you’re a gentleman.” Her head bobbed approvingly. “Good for you.”

  He smiled at the vote of confidence. “Thank you.”

  “Doesn’t really matter what I think,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Laura thinks you’re a prince. Hurt her, though, and you’re dead meat.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he said. “Good night, Raylene.”

  He waited until she was safely inside, then drove back to Laura’s, uncertain what he might find when he got there. To his amazement, though her eyes were a little bright, she didn’t look as if however many margaritas she’d consumed had fazed her.

  “You look none the worse for your little party,” he commented when she let him in.

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “I ran into the gals outside and volunteered to take them home. They had no business getting behind the wheel of a car.”

  “That was so sweet of you,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m a prince, all right,” he said. “At least that’s what Raylene claimed the vote had been earlier in the evening.”

  A blush climbed up Laura’s neck and flooded her cheeks. “She told you that?”