Mississippi Nights

by D. M. Webb

His body cried out for a drink. Something strong would work the gunk out of his chest. The warning labels on the bottles glared at him. Well, that solution was out of the question.

  He needed a distraction. Something to keep the craving at bay.

  Jeremy’s smokes lay on the table in the kitchen. He could barely breathe as it was. Nicotine wouldn’t be the answer tonight.

  He picked up his phone and fell into his recliner.

  Maybe she’d come by. No. He really didn’t want the company. Besides, he needed her number.

  David paused and then dialed Darlene’s number.

  She answered on the fifth ring. “David!”

  “Hey, sis.”

  “You don’t sound so good.”

  “I’ve got a bad case of bronchitis and a sinus infection, or so says Dr. Peterson.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Pressure built behind his eyes. “Look, I was supposed to go out with Maggie tonight.”

  “And now you can’t.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t have her number.” He chuckled and then went into a bout of hacking. A groan escaped as he wilted into the chair. “Can’t believe I forgot to ask for her number.”

  Darlene laughed. “I’ll text it to you. You need anything?”

  Yeah, a shot in the chest. Or maybe something to shut up the brass band in his head. The room swam. When was the last time he’d eaten? “You think you could see if Mom could whip up a batch of her soup? I could really use it.”

  “You shouldn’t have moved out.”

  Oh, he hated that big sister superiority. “Don’t go there.”

  He grimaced. The water he swigged threatened to travel back up from his stomach.

  Her sigh hissed over the air. “Okay. Sure you don’t need anything else?”

  “No. Just soup.” Oh, he was such a pansy. “And company?”

  She laughed again. “Sure, little brother. Give me an hour.”

  David hung up and waited for the text to come through. His phone beeped, and the avatar he chose for Darlene smiled up at him. Finally, he had little Cotton Candy’s number.

  He dialed. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  He imagined her smile and those little freckles. “Hey, handsome.”

  “Wasn’t someone supposed to be taking you out for dinner tonight?”

  “Well, I think so. But he doesn’t sound so good.” Her end crackled and then cleared. “What’s up?”

  How he hated doing this. Would she forgive him? “I have to cancel. I feel like–” He stopped and started again. “–awful. Went to the doc this morning. Bronchitis and a nasty infection.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. You need anything?”

  She was way too sweet for him. “Darlene’s bringing me some food. I don’t remember eating today. Or was that yesterday? I don’t know. I feel too sick to think straight.”

  “You poor darling. Call me if you need anything, okay? And call me when you start feeling better.”

  “Thanks, beautiful.”

  “Not a problem, handsome. We’ve had a rain check before. I’ll call and check on you tomorrow. You get some rest.”

  David waited until the line disconnected. Sweet and absolutely wonderful. He had looked forward to that cotton candy scent tonight. Maybe even another small kiss. One storm and a river, and now look at him. A pathetic, sick man lolling around in a recliner. Give him a gut and a muscle shirt, and he would look the part.

  He let the phone hit the floor and pulled the small blanket around him. Oh, let him die now.

  The doorbell chimed. David frowned. His clock flashed six nineteen. An hour passed already? Man, that was some strong medication.

  He staggered to his feet and lurched to the door. Two pretty ladies stood, grinning up at him. One held a big bowl, and the other clutched a plastic pitcher. He blinked at the duo. His mind refused to focus.

  Darlene reached up and touched his forehead. “You’re burning up. Get back inside.”

  His mom pushed past his sister and gripped his arm, hugging the pitcher of tea to her side. “Come on.”

  He allowed his mom to propel him to his bed. Did he really need to be pampered? “Mom, I can sit in the chair.”

  “No. You lie down.” She set the tea on his nightstand. “I thought I taught you better. What a mess. You wait just a moment while I straighten the bed.”

  He stood swaying as his mom smoothed the sheets and folded the blanket to the foot of the bed. “Here, lie down.”

  She pushed him into the bed. He fell among his high stack of pillows, and she pulled the sheet to his chin. “Really, Mom. I can do this myself. I just asked for soup.”

  “Well,” she tucked the sheet around him, “you got me, instead. Plus some sweet tea and some yeast rolls.”

  His microwave dinged. Darlene rattled around in his cabinets until she found a bowl that apparently passed her inspection. He doubled over as another cough ripped his lungs out of his body.

  “Oh, kill me, please.” He rolled over to his side and sighed as his mom joined Darlene.

  Darlene chuckled as their mom poured tea in a glass. “Men. Y’all are such babies when you get sick.”

  David made an obscene gesture.

  “David James!” His mom set his tea down on the nightstand and smacked his head. “Grow up. You boys have gotten so vulgar lately.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He reached for his tea. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Mom. We can chalk it up to illness.” Darlene brought a steaming bowl to him. “Here, sit up and try this.”

  David struggled into a sitting position and accepted the bowl. His hand shook slightly as he held the spoon. The hot tomato soup slid down, warming his stomach. “Mmm, Mom. You make the best.”

  She leaned down and kissed his brow. “Don’t you know it. Only the best for my children.”

  He frowned as Darlene plopped down at the foot of his bed with a deck of cards. Yeah, take advantage of a sick man.

  “Here, Mom, pull up a spot and play.” She patted the edge of the bed.

  “Rummy?”

  “What else? Since he’s sick, we might actually win this time.”

  David rolled his eyes and took another bite of the creamy soup. “Yeah, wait until I’m sick and half out of it to play against me. The medicine will knock me out real soon, you know.”

  His mom squeezed his foot through the sheet. “And when you do fall asleep, we’ll tally your points in with ours and let ourselves out.”

  “And people wonder where I get my conniving from.”

  His mom laughed. “Deal, Darlene. Let’s see if he really is too sick to play.”

  David smiled and set his half-empty bowl to the side. He took another swallow of tea to clear his clogged throat.

  His thoughts went to Maggie. She would have enjoyed this. He picked up his cards and snorted. If the hand life dealt him looked anything like this, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  : : : : :

  Maggie held up a purple burnout t-shirt. The hollow echoes of shoppers in the small department store buzzed in her ear as she contemplated the shirt. “How about this one? I think it would look good with the capris.”

  Sarah pursed her lips and then shook her head. “Nah. Not with that design. Here, how about this one? Plus, it‘ll be a nice change from your usual pink.”

  Maggie regarded the baby blue tee with an Eiffel Tower graphic design. “Yeah. I like that one. Throw it in the buggy.” Maggie replaced the purple shirt on the rack. “Sophie, how are you coming along?”

  The teenager ambled over, holding a small stack folded over her arms. “I found three shirts, one dress, and two pants. What do you think, Mamma?”

  Sarah reached out for a red and white striped shirt. “This one is good.” She dropped it in the buggy and turned back to Sophie for the next top. “But this one . . .” She took it and threw it on top of the rack. “No. Too re
vealing, especially for your age.”

  Maggie smiled and picked it up. The yellow shirt’s neckline dipped in a low vee, and the hem barely would have covered the girl’s navel. “Yeah, I agree.”

  She walked over to the smaller rack and hung the garment as Sarah finished looking through Sophie’s pile. The shirts and pants flew into the cart. Sarah handed the dress to Sophie. “Go try it on.”

  While Sophie hurried to the changing rooms with her dress, Sarah turned to Maggie. “So, you were saying?”

  “What? Oh, earlier?” Maggie held up a pair of wild colored socks, inspecting them. “I called him for the next three days. He was getting better, I could tell. He sounded disappointed that we hadn’t had a chance to truly go out yet. He did mention, if he felt better this Friday, going on a rowboat ride.”

  Sarah arched her brow. She took the socks from Maggie’s hands and replaced them on the hook. “Not your style.” She handed Maggie a pair with lollipop designs.

  Maggie grinned and threw them in the cart. “Well, I told him I would have to see. Even though he said he felt well enough to go to work on Thursday, I still think he’s overtaxing himself.”

  “He does that. He and Jeremy both.” Sarah turned to Sophie’s voice. The girl stood near the dressing rooms, modeling the dress. “That looks good. If you like, we’ll get it.”

  Sophie squealed and hopped around in the slender yellow sundress. “And it’ll look so great with my white sandals.”

  As she disappeared back into the changing room, Sarah resumed. “I really wanted to speak to you about David, though.”

  “Oh, about what?” Maggie fiddled with a selection of tights, looking for an opaque navy in her size. Petites were so hard to find.

  “How much do you know about David? We told you about Rebecca, how she died, and that he left for St. Louis shortly afterward. Rebecca’s parents moved away–”

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Maggie exclaimed. “They’ll be here next weekend. Their gallery generously donated a few local paintings.”

  Sarah frowned. “David and the Johansens haven’t been on speaking terms since the funeral. Does he know?”

  Maggie shook her head and leaned against the edge of the cart. “No. But then, the conversation never came up. I didn’t realize there were bad feelings between them.”

  Sophie rushed out of the dressing room. “Here, Mamma. Can I go check out shoes now?”

  Sarah grinned as she took the clothes from Sophie. “Yeah. We’re right behind you.”

  Maggie fell in step as Sarah pushed the cart behind Sophie, who hurried to the shoe aisle. As much as she liked shoes, Maggie really didn’t want to shop for any. The bright lights in the department store pounded into her head. Hopefully, they could make their way over to the food court soon.

  Sarah turned down the women’s section. “I need to find some good pumps for church. Mine are so old and scarred.” She browsed over the size eights, and Maggie searched through the sevens for some sensible sandals.

  “So,” she glanced up at Sarah, “what happened between him and her parents?”

  “No one really knows. Jeremy seems to think that it was a blame game that happened. They really didn’t want her to marry David. Don’t get me wrong.” Sarah sat on the bench and slipped a pair of black low heels on her feet. “They’re nice people, but they come from the ‘upper’ society. You know, cotillions and parties and balls. Rebecca was an alumnus from Ole Miss. Business and art degree. To them, she could have done better than a high school graduate firefighter.”

  Maggie frowned. How horrible to know that someone didn’t approve of someone else simply because he didn’t have a college degree. “He’s not dumb. Actually, he’s very smart. The things that he knows.”

  “Oh, I know that, and so do most people. But David never applies himself to his utmost potential. Not unless the situation warrants it.”

  Maggie smiled. “Naturally lazy?” She inspected a pair of pink leather sandals. Nah. She had enough pink shoes. Actually, she had enough pink everything.

  “Yup.” Sarah replaced the black shoes and pulled down a pair of red ones. “Oh, I like these.”

  Maggie shook her head. So like Sarah. “They’ll match your new dress we bought from Kohl’s.”

  Sarah smiled and slipped the box in with the clothes. Sophie came around the corner carrying her shoes and a box. The sparkly white Mary Janes shone on her feet. “How about these, Mamma? I love them. Not tight and not at all loose.”

  Sarah checked the price on the box. “If those are the ones you really want. No wearing a couple of times and then ignoring them.”

  Sophie beamed and plunked down on the floor to remove the shoes. “Okay.” She threw the shoes in the box and handed them to her mother.

  Sarah looked at Maggie. “You find anything?”

  Maggie shook her head and replaced a blue sandal into its box. “Not really. Actually, I really want to go to the food court. My head is killing me.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” Sarah put her arm around her. “Migraine?”

  “No. Not yet. The fluorescent lights are too harsh.” Maggie trailed after her cousin as they made their way to the check-out register. “You don’t think there will be trouble, do you, when the Johansens arrive next weekend? Where are they now?”

  “Jackson, I think. Or Canton. Somewhere down there.” Sarah piled the clothes on the counter. “And I think it’ll be okay. I’m more worried about the game.”

  Maggie curled up her lips in a lopsided scowl. “So am I, especially when you told me what happened after the rescue.” She grabbed her clothes as Sarah paid for her purchase. “Surely, they won’t be that stupid.”

  Sarah gave a small huff. “You would think, but they’re Boyettes. Most times, they react without thinking. And with their attitudes toward each other lately, it might escalate on the field. Those two are so competitive.”

  Maggie filled out her check as the girl scanned her items and bagged them. “Why do they act that way? Doesn’t David know that Jeremy tried to save Rebecca?”

  The check-out girl looked at her and popped her gum. “That’s ninety-six and seventeen cents.”

  Maggie wrote the amount in and handed the check to the cashier. She stuffed the receipt in the bag and followed Sarah and Sophie out into the mall’s walkway. “I just can’t imagine holding a grudge that long.”

  Sarah stopped. Her dark eyes flooded with compassion and worry. “You would think. David used to be so full of life. Now? Something is wrong. He can’t still blame Jeremy for Rebecca’s death. I’ve tried to get Jeremy to tell him that he tried, but my darling husband can be just as stubborn as his brother.”

  Maggie smiled and hooked her arm through her cousin’s as they resumed following Sophie down to the food court. “Well, things will look up. Don’t they always?”

  Would they really? That sad face and haunted, green eyes had captivated her. But when she gazed into his eyes and saw–no, felt–the love and life buried deep within him, she realized that she loved him. She ducked her head so Sarah couldn’t see her smile. She loved David. Just saying the words sent a pleasurable shiver down her back. Dang it all. The man had stolen her heart.

  Chapter 12

  DAVID SIDESTEPPED A PUDDLE of melted ice cream. The trees overhead created shade through most of the park. He stepped over a discarded bag of popcorn. People jostled him as he traveled the main fairway toward the gazebo.

  Chairs arranged in gentle arcs offered a relaxing atmosphere. A local folk band played a rendition of an old hymn: On Jordan’s Stormy Bank. The familiar tune drifted his way, along with the aroma of funnel cakes. And cotton candy. He smiled.

  He would never find Maggie in this Saturday afternoon crowd. The auction was supposed to start in thirty minutes, and he wanted to sit beside her.

  A hand landed on his shoulder. “David, you finally showed. Figured you wouldn‘t come until it was time for the ballgame.”

  David turned around. Sam stood with his
arm around a tall brunette sporting a splash of bright red across her lips. His friend sure loved the high-maintenance gals. “I wanted to see the auction. Couple of things caught my eye.”

  “It’s been delayed. Heard the mayor had some announcement or whatnot, so the auction won’t start until four thirty.” Sam waved a hand at his date. “Hey, this is Tiffany. She’s from Southaven. Tiff, this is David. Friend and boss man, at least, sometimes boss.”

  Tiffany held out a long, skinny, manicured hand. Some expensive, spicy scent reached him. “Hi, David. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  David shook her hand and grimaced. “Coming from Sam, I don’t know whether I should apologize and run the other way or what.”

  A childlike giggle grated against his ears as her blue eyes crinkled. “Oh, it was all good. He told me you just came back from St. Louis.”

  “I did.”

  Sam clapped him on the arm. “Why don’t you swing by The Mudslide later this evening? Play a game of pool?”

  “I might. Really depends.” He looked over their shoulders. A little blonde head came into view and then disappeared. Should have known to look in the crafts section first. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Tiffany. Sam, I see someone. I’ll catch you later before the game.”

  “It wouldn’t happen to be someone blonde, would it?” Sam smiled and allowed him to pass. His small chuckle followed David through the throngs of people.

  Amazing how many people actually lived in Jasper City. David angled his body to miss the flight of two preteens as they barreled past. The horde thinned somewhat, and David glimpsed the little woman, her pink sleeveless shirt billowing in the breeze around her. Maggie and her color pink. Too bad she wasn’t wearing that little sundress she had on when they first met. Man, she was beautiful that day.

  She ventured down to another booth. A bump against his back woke David from his spell. Sheesh. He’d get run over in this hoopla.

  To his left was a small glass-blowing booth. He ducked underneath the tent and perused the items. He’d surprise her.

  “How you doin’, sir?” The vendor rose from his sports chair, pushing the legs of his overalls down over his boots. He grabbed his cane from nearby and tilted his straw hat back. “Looking for anything in particular?”