Another chuckle. “How about we make this an official challenge?” He leaned forward. “One month is all I ask. After that you’ll thank me.”
“Well, I don’t know.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What’s in it for me? Seems like you’re the one who benefits, given the fact you’ll be spending quality time with me.”
“You do have a point.” This time his grin lasted much longer. “What did you have in mind?”
“My first inclination is to require you to submit to my scissors and do something with that hair. I mean, honestly, Bud. Nobody ever died from a deep-conditioning treatment.” She held up her palms to silence his protest. “However, I’ve come up with something slightly—and only slightly, mind you—more valuable to your personal growth in the new year.”
He quirked a brow. “Oh? What’s that?”
“I’m going to teach you how to have fun, Bud Briggs, and if you don’t agree to one month under my complete command, I’m backing out of my end of the deal.”
“Hey, I’m fun.” The deputy actually looked a bit wounded.
Sue Ellen tried to soften her words with a sensitive look. “Name the last time you did something just for the pure fun of it.” Before he could speak, she shook her head. “And exercising and deer hunting don’t count.”
He opened his mouth twice but said nothing. For a second she thought he might have a response.
“And working on cars doesn’t count, either.”
“Not fair. Who’s making these rules, anyway?”
“I am.” She squared her shoulders. “You got a problem with that?”
“If it gives me a chance to improve your diet and health, no, I guess I don’t. Still, I think I’m a fun guy.”
She gave him a look that told him exactly how fun she thought he was. “Stop stalling, Deputy. Fish or cut bait.”
It didn’t take him but a second to grasp her hand. “Deal,” he said. “On the condition that anything you ask of me isn’t illegal, immoral, or fattening.”
“Bud Briggs, you know me better than that.”
“All right, strike the first two.” His eyes narrowed. “But I’m sticking to the third one.”
“No deal,” she said. “I refuse to put caloric restrictions on fun. Shake on it or forget it.”
On TV, the ball began its slow descent to the cheers of the crowd in Times Square.
“No restrictions,” he said slowly. “All right, but that goes both ways, you know.” Bud slowly held out his hand to shake.
“All right,” she said as she met him halfway. Palm to palm they sat, with only the glow of the magnificent crystal globe to light the room.
On the other side of the closed door, the countdown began. “Ten, nine, eight. . .”
Bud tightened his grip on her fingers.
“Seven, six, five. . .”
“Happy New Year, Bud,” Sue Ellen whispered.
“Four, three, two. . .”
“Happy New Year, Sue Ellen.”
And then he shook her hand.
Chapter Ten
He shook your hand?” Dottie Jean swiped at the air with her dishtowel. “I just don’t believe it.”
Sue Ellen perched on the stool nearest the cash register while Dottie Jean, filling in for Jenny, counted change. A half hour from now, the Catfish House would be full of customers. For now, however, the dining room was blissfully empty.
“I know. I thought. . . Well, that is, I hoped. . .”
“You hoped he’d come out of whatever fog he’s been in since high school? Good luck, Sue Ellen. That man’s near to impossible to figure out.”
The door jangled and shut behind Leota. After exchanging hugs with her friend, Sue Ellen climbed back onto her stool to sip her coffee.
“Welcome back.” Dottie Jean set a steaming cup of coffee in front of Leota, then leaned her hip against the counter. “We were just talking about how Sue Ellen and Bud rang in the New Year.”
Leota’s brows shot up. “Do tell, honey. Did he kiss you?”
Sue Ellen sighed. “No, he shook my hand.”
Her friend nearly choked on her coffee. “Stop teasing me,” she said when the coughing fit subsided.
“Oh, she’s serious,” Dottie Jean said. “That boy’s a blame fool, and I, for one, would like to give him a piece of my mind. Why, for once I wish Sassy was here instead of in Hawaii with Wendell. She’d have just the right thing to say about a man who settles for a handshake with a pretty girl instead of a New Year’s kiss.”
Leota chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Sue Ellen asked.
“I just had an image of Sassy in her overalls with a grass skirt and coconut top on over them.” She dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Oh, and Wendell in a pair of flowered swim trunks.”
“His trunks were a solid color, thank you very much, and I, for one, wore a string bikini under my grass skirt.”
“Sassy!” Dottie Jean laughed out loud. “Don’t even ask me to look at those vacation pictures.”
“As if I’d ask you. Some things are just private, you know?” Sassy gave Leota a squeeze, and then enveloped Sue Ellen in a hug. “Now what’s this I hear about you getting a handshake instead of a New Year’s kiss?”
“Bud shook her hand, Sassy. Can you feature it?”
Sassy lowered herself gingerly onto the bar stool beside Sue Ellen, then winced. “Girls, I never did know a sunburn to hurt like this one.”
“But you don’t look sunburned,” Leota said.
“That’s cause I put lotion on every place I could reach. Guess I missed a spot or two.” She paused to take a sip from her mug, her face a mask of innocence. “That’s good coffee, Dottie Jean. Not like that sissy stuff my Tilly serves.” She slapped herself on the forehead, as if to remind herself. “You know, I’ve got to stop talking like that. Tilly’s a sweet girl—and I must confess even her coffee’s improved since she gave her heart to the Lord.”
“Amen to that,” Sue Ellen agreed. “I tried her Cinnamon Streusel Delight. It’s my personal favorite.”
“She is a good girl.” Sassy’s lips turned up in a smile. “And the proof’s in the pudding. Did I tell you that she’s offered the use of her place for the youth on Sunday morning? She told me on the way in from the airport that Reverend Jordan was thrilled with the idea.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sue Ellen said. “Especially with the way our youth group is growing.”
“I agree.” Sassy’s lower lip began to quiver. “And that Fred. . .” She shook her head and wiped away a tear. “He’s been the next best thing to sliced bread for that daughter of mine. I do hope he proposes soon.”
“Why, Sassy Hatchett!” Sue Ellen put a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake. “I mean Meeks. Sassy Meeks.” She let out a little giggle. “I thought you were opposed to the idea of Tilly marrying Fred because they scarcely knew each other.”
“I’m over that.” Sassy grinned from ear to ear. “I’m a firm believer in marriage. And besides”—she took another sip of the coffee—“I’ve already talked to Pastor Jordan. He thinks Fred would make a great youth pastor. Can you imagine my Tilly Mae, a youth pastor’s wife?” She slapped her knee and let out a deep-throated laugh. “My goodness, would Tilly’s father get a chuckle out of that?”
“I do believe he would,” Sue Ellen agreed. “I do believe he would.”
Sassy patted Sue Ellen’s arm. “I didn’t mean to get off on all that. Why, I’m not paying a bit of attention to what happened to you.” She looked over at Dottie Jean. “You say this pretty girl only got a handshake at midnight?” When Dottie Jean nodded, Sassy frowned. “I’d say we ought to string him up, but likely as not, doing harm to a deputy sheriff is probably a bad idea.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Leota said. “I kind of like the idea.”
“I’ve got a plan,” Sue Ellen said, “so don’t you worry.”
“Do tell, child,” Sassy encouraged.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Dottie Jean sa
id. “Much as we’d all like to teach our deputy sheriff a lesson, I suggest we keep it to ourselves.”
“Why’s that, Dottie Jean?” Sue Ellen asked.
She gestured toward the plate glass window advertising the best catfish east of the Mississippi. “ ’Cause here he comes, crossing the street.”
“Be nice, all of you.” Sue Ellen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve got this under control.”
“Of course you do,” Dottie Jean said as she shared a grin with Sassy.
“Just act natural,” Sue Ellen said. “All of you. I mean it.” That last comment she directed at Sassy, who looked to be trying to scoot off the stool.
“You don’t want me to act natural, Sue Ellen.” Sassy wiggled back onto the stool, then winced as she straightened her overall strap. “I just might say something to offend somebody.” When the others giggled, she shrugged. “Hey, you never know.”
“Please,” Sue Ellen said. “Leota, talk to me about something. I don’t want him to think I’m waiting for him.”
“But you are,” Sassy said.
“Stop it, Sassy.” Dottie Jean reached under the counter to deposit a stack of cloth and silverware in front of Sassy. “Get a handful of those napkins and set to work. Me, I’m going back to my hush puppies.”
By the time the bell on the diner door jingled, Sue Ellen and Leota were engrossed in a discussion of the latest Christian concert coming to Hattiesburg, while Dottie Jean was up to her elbows in hush puppy dough.
Sassy gave up the pretense of rolling napkins before the door shut. “Well, look who’s here. It’s Handshake Bud—I mean, Deputy Bud.”
“How do, Miss Sassy?” He shook his head. “I guess I ought to start calling you Mrs. Sassy.”
“And I reckon I ought to start calling you—”
“Sassy!” Dottie Jean gave her a warning glare. “Can I speak to you back in the office? It’s about that thing for church.”
“That thing?” Sassy looked to Leota. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
“Excuse us, you two.” Leota rose to help Sassy off her stool.
“Help yourself to some coffee, Bud,” Dottie Jean called. “I’ll be right back to take your lunch order.”
Sue Ellen watched her friends disappear into the office. “No hurry, Dottie Jean. Bud and I have some work to do first.”
“What’s wrong with Sassy?” Bud asked. “She looks like she’s limping.”
“Sunburn.” She waved away his questions with a sweep of her hand. “Don’t ask.”
Gathering up her purse and notepad, Sue Ellen led the way to a table in the corner farthest from the office. The three amigos were likely leaning against the door trying to listen. No sense in making it any easier for them.
Bud poured himself a cup of coffee and strolled across the dining room to join her. Sue Ellen’s fickle heart jumped as the uniformed officer settled into the seat across from her.
“Shall we go over the rules?” Bud pulled a piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket. Her expression must have conveyed her feelings. “Honestly, Sue Ellen, this is for your own good.” He paused to take a sip of coffee before sliding the paper across the table toward her. “It’s only a few items, I promise.”
Sue Ellen scanned the list, then looked back up at Bud. “Diet, exercise, and plenty of sleep.” She folded the paper. “Piece of cake.” Giggling, she amended her comment. “Sorry. Piece of lettuce.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He pulled a second piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s the rest of the program.”
This time she didn’t accept the paper with quite so much anticipation. The page was divided into sections, each marked with detailed information on the topic. Notable were the sentences highlighted in bold.
“No more chocolate?” She tried not to look distraught, certain that would only amuse him. “Daily exercise?”
“Not every day. You get Sundays off, of course.”
“Of course.” Sue Ellen caught sight of Sassy peering around the office door and glared at her.
“That’s the basics. I sent the rest to you on a spreadsheet in an email attachment.”
He looked so proud of himself that it was impossible to say a word about how she actually felt. Rather, she mumbled a brief thanks.
“So I suggest you take a few days to look over all the information, then we can get started.”
Sue Ellen almost took him up on his offer of a grace period. Then she thought better of it. The sooner she got started, the sooner the whole crazy experiment would end.
“What about tomorrow?”
Bud shook his head. “I’ve already made the schedule out. We start Saturday.”
“Ah, the schedule.” We’ll see how long you stick to schedules, Bud Briggs.
“I’ll be there bright and early Saturday morning. Check the email for running times.”
“Running?”
“Yes, you know. Faster than walking, slower than racing? I suggest you drive into Hattiesburg and get fitted for a proper pair of running shoes. Believe it or not, it’s not how cute they are that matters.” He reached for the menu as Dottie Jean approached. “Two grilled catfish platters with vegetables and salad, oil and vinegar on the side, please.” He paused. “And two waters.”
Sue Ellen’s eyes narrowed as she expelled a long breath. “Fried catfish platter, with french fries and a salad.” She paused. “Ranch dressing. Oh, and sweet tea. Peach if you have it. And I think I’ll wrap it up with a piece of your pecan pie, Dottie Jean.”
“Sue Ellen.” The warning in Bud’s voice could not be mis-taken. “You sure about that?”
She pretended to consider his question for a moment. “Bud’s right, Dottie Jean. Let me change that.”
Dottie Jean hid her grin behind her menu pad. “Go ahead,” she finally said.
“All right, add ice cream, and don’t forget to heat the pie. I love it when the homemade vanilla drips down the sides.” Sue Ellen offered Bud a broad smile. “It’s not Saturday yet.”
Chapter Eleven
It cannot be morning.” Sue Ellen slapped at the ringing sound, certain it was just some fool who got up with the chickens but dialed as if still asleep.
“Wrong number,” she muttered into her cell.
And yet the ringing continued.
“I’ve got to get Tilly to show me how to download a better ring tone. This one sounds just like the alarm clock.”
Sue Ellen buried the phone under one pillow and her head under the other. That worked for a few seconds.
Then she realized that, however faint the sound, the phone was still ringing. “Why isn’t my voice mail picking up?”
She tossed the pillows off and sat bolt upright, then groaned and fell back on the mattress. “The alarm clock.”
Rolling onto her side, Sue Ellen hit the snooze button. Then the phone rang for real.
“Hello?” she whispered.
“Good morning.”
“Bud,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “Go away.”
Throwing the sheet over her head, Sue Ellen waited for the click that signaled the deputy had given up. The silence on the other end lasted only long enough for Sue Ellen to close her eyes.
“We had a deal. Now get up, put on your running shoes, and meet me in front of the salon.”
“Fine,” she said as she threw off the sheet, “but I’ll need some coffee first.”
“After,” he said firmly. “I’ll treat you to a cup at Tilly’s. I’ve penciled in a half hour to go over your plans for me, then another hour to implement them. Will that work?”
“Pencil this in, Bud. We run to Tilly’s, grab a latte, then I run home and take a nice hot bubble bath.”
“Look, I know you’re a little cranky this morning. I’m sure you’re used to sleeping in on Saturdays.”
“Not likely, Deputy. You have no idea how early the seniors over at the nursing home get up. I’m usually out there by nine every other Saturday. This, howeve
r, was going to be my sleeping-in Saturday.” She leaned over to lift the blinds a notch. “It’s still dark outside. Are you kidding me?”
“Stop procrastinating, or you’ll miss out on whatever torture you planned for me.”
“All right.” Sue Ellen rose and promptly tripped over the pillows. Thankfully she made a soft landing on the goose down.
“You all right?” Bud asked.
“No, Bud, I am not all right.” She tossed the pillows back onto the bed. “It’s dark. It’s early. It’s Saturday.”
“Don’t make me come up there after you, Sue Ellen Caldwell.”
She hung up the phone, and then ignored it when Bud called back. Five minutes later, she’d brushed her teeth, yanked her hair into a ponytail, and slipped into her new running shoes and matching jogging suit—all in the same shade of pink as her shop sign.
As an accent, she’d bought a top in a black and white leopard print and a matching thingie to put her house key in. The best surprise of all was the leopard print shoelaces she’d found to complete the ensemble.
Bud was partly right, she decided as she checked her image in the closet’s full-length mirror. The shoes did fit nicely, but it didn’t hurt that they were cute, too.
The look on Bud’s face when she let herself out the front door of the shop was worth every penny she spent on the outfit.
“Before you can run,” Bud said when he’d recovered his senses, “you have to stretch.” He took her through a few stretches, and then pointed her in the direction of Carp Court. “I figured we’d just run until we get tired and see how far we get.”
“Fine by me, Deputy Briggs. I just hope you can keep up.”
“It’s chilly. Don’t you think you ought to get some gloves?”
“Couldn’t find any that matched.” She shot out like an Olympic runner, and then realized when Bud caught up that she probably ought to slow down.
“Couldn’t find any that matched?” Bud shook his head. “Lord, I don’t think I’ve ever dared to pray this, but could You give me patience? And fast?”
Pride kept Sue Ellen moving at the brisk pace until they reached a red light. Despite the fact there wasn’t a single soul coming in either direction, Bud pushed the button and waited until the WALK sign turned green.
Biloxi Brides (Sugar and Grits) Page 19
