In a Jam

by Cindy Dorminy

  “Hey, Tinsley.”

  “How ya doin’?”

  I wave at the car passing by as if I know them. “Fine as frog hair.”

  His laughter bellows out of the phone. “I’m not going to ask what that means.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Checking to see how it’s going.” That’s Tinsley, always thinking of others.

  Over my shoulder, the Jackson sisters toddle down the sidewalk toward the country crafts store. Sarah points at my bare feet then does the “I’m watching you” motion, pointing her fingers at her eyes then pointing at me.

  “Most people here are nice. Others are freakin’ crazy.”

  “Then you must be fitting right in.”

  I slide into my sneakers, and my feet thank me for the relief. A gush of water squishes out with my first step. “You’re funny.”

  “Have you met George Clooney with a twang yet?”

  A tingly feeling runs up my spine. “Yes. I hardly made it over the county line before I bumped, I mean, met him. I don’t know if I should be mad at you or thank you for telling him my situation.”

  “I thought you’d need someone in your corner.”

  I belt out a laugh as I lean against the brick wall of In a Jam. “You mean someone to spy on me.”

  “That’s not what I said.” He lets out a deep sigh. “I worry about you, and I want you to have a real crack at the money, but you and I both know what you lean on when things get stressful. Don’t be tempted. Officer Wills said he’ll keep you away from temptation.”

  “Yeah, but he’s an even bigger temptation.” I take in a hot, humid breath. “Forget I said that.” A cool drink of the alcoholic persuasion sure could take the edge off right now.

  Tinsley cackles, and I want to yank him through the phone to smack that Southie grin off his face.

  “I have to go. I have a business to run, you know.”

  “Sure thing. Tell Clooney I said hello.”

  I disconnect and stomp back into my business, I mean, Granny’s business. I’ve got pipes to fix, customers to tend to, and a contract to comply with. I don’t have time for Tinsley’s humor right now.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gunnar

  Don’t go over there. Do not go over there. Shit. My treacherous feet force me in that direction, and before I know what’s happening, I cross the street from the gym and stand in front of In A Jam. I tried not to think about her all day, but that was an epic fail. Like a drug, I need one more Andie fix before I call it a night. Plus, I really should let her in on the latest word on the street. She’s not going to like it, and I’d rather she hear it from me before someone else gets to her.

  At the door, I pause. Faint mumbles from the kitchen make my face break out in a huge grin. I press my ear to the glass in the door.

  Andie chants, “I’m as nervous as a long-tail cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. What goes under the devil’s belly comes back over his back. Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.”

  The bell over her door jingles, announcing my arrival.

  “We’re closed... y’all.”

  Adorable. I drop my gym bag by the front door and saunter over to the counter. Her How to Speak Southern book is splayed next to the sink. Wads of plumber’s tape are stuck to the edges of the cabinet door, and one long piece lies on top of the last muffin in the display case. Most of Andie’s body is all the way under the sink, so only feet with pink toenails stick out. I had my chance. I could have backed out, and she would have never known it was me. But now those pink toenails aren’t going to let me leave anytime soon. Shit.

  “I heard you were having trouble with those old pipes.”

  Andie bumps her head as she tries to scoot out of the cabinet. “Ow. Word gets around pretty fast.”

  “Too fast.” When she hears what I have to tell her, she’s going to pitch a fit.

  She pushes up to a standing position. Her hair is plastered to her sweaty face. So this is what she looks like when she’s all hot and worked up. Don’t. Go. There.

  “Let me ask you this. Do people know when I pee too?”

  I shrug.

  “‘Cause if so, why won’t someone come forward and give me some toilet paper? I can’t seem to find any in Granny’s apartment.”

  I wag my head and chuckle. She peeks under the cabinet and grunts as she tries to unscrew the pipe. Her hand slips, and she bangs her knuckles on the cabinet. A few choice words escape her mouth. “It would be nice if the gossip train would go all the way to the pond where the one and only plumber hangs out.” She grimaces from the pain in her hand.

  “Don’t count on it. Do you want some help?”

  She sighs. “Yes. Thank you.”

  I walk around the counter into the small galley kitchen. No matter which way I move, she seems to move to the same place. She holds her arms up and moves sideways. We are chest to chest as we switch places, and I take my sweet time moving past her, enjoying the view. She smells like freshly baked bread with a hint of vanilla. She keeps her eyes trained on the ceiling. On purpose, I rub against her stomach. When I turn to face the sink, she sucks in a breath.

  Before I dive under the sink, I sneak a peek back at her. She leans over the counter, panting. Sweet. She bounces twice on the balls of her feet then pushes herself up to sit on the counter. Her feet dangle like a kid’s on the side of a swimming pool.

  “So tell me... Bruce, how do you know so much about plumbing?”

  I’m going to kill him. “What did you call me?” I rotate to get a glimpse of her cheesy mug.

  “Bruce.” She winks then leans over toward the coffeepot, almost falling off the counter.

  I’m grinning so much, I’m sure my dimple has popped out. “You met Jake, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t explain why you call each other Bruce.” She waves a hand in the air. “And to tell you the truth, I don’t want to know. Nice guy, though.”

  “We’ve been friends since grade school. We had three classmates named Bruce. And in a small town, that’s a bit odd. So, to not be left out, we started calling each other Bruce, and it has stuck all these years. Liza’s a good egg.”

  “Yeah, she seems really cool.”

  I refocus on the pipe I’ve finally gotten lose. “She’s sharp. Don’t let that Southern drawl fool you.”

  “Yeah, and Mel too. She’s as sharp as a tack.”

  I chuckle. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “I’m meeting her and Regina tomorrow for an early-morning run.”

  Shit. Regina leads to Jolene, which is a direct line to Willow. I would like to keep my past tucked away, and as far as possible from my present. But in this town, there are eyes everywhere. “Uh, Regina?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The silence builds like the calm before a storm. No telling what Andie’s thinking. “Be careful with Regina.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “I never—”

  She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, please. I can only imagine what Tinsley told you.”

  Growl. I climb out of the cabinet, pull my T-shirt down because it had ridden up to my armpits, and hand her the remainder of the tape.

  “You’re stopping by to ‘check on me.’” She uses air quotes, which pisses me off.

  I cross my arms over my chest and cock an eyebrow. She has no idea how to handle the Southern rumor mill, and I did promise Tinsley I would check up on her from time to time. “Let’s get something straight. You are walking into the snake pit with Regina. If you think you’re such a big girl, then knock yourself out. Consider yourself forewarned.”

  Her mouth drops. Dammit. That wasn’t nice. I don’t know crap about her. Maybe she had her reasons for not visiting her grandmother. I turn my back and take a few breaths to bring my anger down to a simmer. When I peek over my shoulder, Andie averts her eyes.

  “Ouch,” she says.

  I stare at the ceiling and let out a groan. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you like
that. I only want you to be on your toes when you’re around her. All you have to do is be around Regina, and it will make people talk.”

  “People seem to like a spicy story regardless of the truth.” Her expression makes my hostility fizzle away.

  I rub the back of my neck. “Regina sometimes can be a pill.”

  She snorts. “She’s better than that redhead.”

  “True.” I blow out a breath. “And just so you know, Tinsley didn’t tell me anything that wasn’t flattering.”

  She flashes me another grin, and my anger melts away. “If it weren’t for your visits, I’d go crazy.”

  I bow. “Why, thank you, ma’am. It’s a darn tootin’ pleasure.”

  She laughs at my exaggerated accent and hands me a cup of coffee. Taking a break from my mad plumbing job, I slide onto the counter next to her, and my knee bumps into hers. Together we sip coffee in silence. It doesn’t feel awkward. It’s nice to be with someone without having to talk all the damn time.

  I tap her knee with mine, sending a shiver down my body. “Uh, I didn’t mean to come off all cranky.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been cranky all day. Every time I turned around, the Jacksons were there, documenting my every move.”

  “Yeah, about that—”

  “Then I had the huge, watery mess to clean up. It wasn’t my best day.” We sit in silence for a moment, and I review in my mind how I’m going to tell her about the latest Biddy’s Blog.

  Andie swipes a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “So, what’s the story with the nurses? I’m pretty sure it’s none of my business, but you know... trying to fit in, and gossip seems to be the trend around here.” She gives me a one-shoulder shrug.

  I clear my throat. “Jolene is my ex-girlfriend’s stepsister, and Regina is her closest friend that never left Smithville.”

  She grimaces. “From the tension at the hospital, I guess that didn’t end well.”

  “Not at all.” I survey the place then focus on our dangling legs. Time to change the subject. “Your grandma would skin us alive if she caught us sitting on her counter.”

  Andie takes a sip of her coffee then speaks over her cup. “Could be worse.”

  “Yep. And has been. My sister is five years older than me. The teenagers used to hang out here and, well, you probably don’t want to hear about what used to go on in this building.”

  She puts a hand up. “You’re right. I don’t need to know.” From the flush of her cheeks, I think her mind went down the gutter right along with mine.

  I take another sip of my coffee. “Um. This is nice. I think you’ve mastered the art of making ‘plain’ coffee.”

  She bumps me with her shoulder. “Thanks. I’m getting there. Mrs. Cavanaugh has been really helpful. I only burned two batches of muffins. That’s way better than I expected of myself. If I could get a handle on Granny’s jam, I’d be doing okay. People kept asking for it this morning, but I don’t have a clue where to start.”

  “Better get it right before the county fair in two weeks.”

  Her hand stops with her cup halfway to her mouth. “The what?”

  “The county fair. Your grandmother entered herself. If you read the fine print of your agreement, you’d see you’re required to enter. You better get something edible.”

  She cringes, then her eyes get big. “Can I go buy some at the store and put it in a different jar?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’ve watched too many Andy Griffith episodes, haven’t you? For research?”

  “No. Okay, maybe a few. But wasn’t that pickles and not jam?”

  I take one last swig of my coffee and set the cup on the counter before hopping down. “You can do it. Maybe Mrs. Cavanaugh can help. At least you won’t have to go to the rattlesnake roundup.”

  “What?”

  I fake a shocked expression. “You’ve never heard of a rattlesnake roundup? You’re missing out.”

  “Do you put saddles on the reptiles and ride them around?” She pretends to hold reins.

  “Silly girl. Snakes are caught and brought to the county extension office to keep the population in check. It’s a big deal with food and crafts and stuff.”

  She pulls her feet under her on the counter as though the thought of snakes creeps her out. “Should I be scared? I mean there can’t be too many snakes cruising down Main Street, right?”

  I slide off the counter to take one last gander at my handiwork and make sure the pipes are secure. “No, but in the rural areas—”

  “This isn’t rural?”

  I stare at her, making her giggle. I like that sound. A lot. “In the rural areas, like where the farms are, there are too many.”

  “Ahh. I get it. I think.”

  One last check of the pipe, and I turn on the valve. I smirk back at her. “No leaks. God, I am the best.”

  “And modest.”

  To really see how masterful I am, I turn on the faucet. Water sprays into my face. Andie squeals as I try to get the water turned off. She laughs so hard, she almost slips off the counter. I’m glad she’s getting some amusement out of this. I hold the sprayer and aim it at her.

  She freezes. “You wouldn’t.”

  I nod. “Oh yes, I would.”

  With lightning speed, she lunges toward me, trying to pry the sprayer out of my hands. Both of our hands are on the trigger, and we both get a shot of cold water in our faces and down our shirts. If I thought she was sexy to begin with, she’s off-the-chart hot as hell when wet. We both let go of the sprayer, and I lean down to turn off the valve again. Drips of water fall off my nose. I shake like a dog, sending a spray of water all over her.

  “I cannot believe you did that.”

  I move close to her, backing her up against the counter. I wipe a wet strand of hair off her face. She bites her bottom lip. Damn. She swallows hard and focuses on the floor, while her hands dangle at her sides. I tip her chin up with my finger and lean into her. Her hands find my waist and pull me closer. I bend my neck to be closer to those gorgeous lips. We’re only an inch apart. All it would take is for the Earth to tip on its axis a smidgen, and there would be no more space between us. Her eyes find mine, and if she gives me the green light, my mouth is going to find hers, pronto. She clutches my T-shirt and tugs me closer. Right before my lips make contact with hers, the bell chimes above the front door.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Gunnar

  “We’re closed,” Andie says, not losing eye contact with me.

  Neither of us moves. The water soaking our shirts feels more like super glue. We’re stuck together, and neither of us wants to get out the nail polish remover. After only three days, I want this girl. I know this is not going to end well, but I can’t tell my heart that. My stupid, stupid heart is going to get broken again. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for someone who didn’t have the same goals as me. I know exactly what Andie’s all about. She hasn’t made it a secret, and I am already falling for her. She’ll be gone soon, and I’ll still be here in the same place I was two years ago.

  “I know, but I’m here for my leftovers.” With hands stuffed in his pockets, Stanley drags himself up to the counter.

  Great timing, Stan.

  Andie jolts away from me. “Oh. I almost forgot. Yes, we have lots. Pardon the mess. My plumbing is leaky. I mean not mine, but the sink.”

  Stanley grins for a second before his mouth pulls back into a tight line.

  Andie rushes around the store, not making eye contact. From underneath the counter, she pulls out a Tupperware container filled with muffins. “As strange as it may seem, people don’t seem to like my baking as well as my grandmother’s. It’s probably for the best. I won’t be in business much longer.”

  Ouch. Kill me now and get it over with. Stanley waves and stuffs his face with a muffin. He’s too lazy to cook, and Jolene works long shifts at the hospital, so it’s either go hungry, or eat Andie’s leftovers.

  She points
to the pile in the trash can. “The trash is full of charred globs of crap not fit for the rattlesnakes creeping down Main Street.”

  I slide onto a barstool next to Stan. “So, whatcha been up to? You seem bummed about something. I mean other than the heartburn that muffin is giving you.”

  Andie pops me on the shoulder with a dish towel and gives me the death stare.

  Between bites, he replies, “I think they’re gonna lay me off at the plant.”

  That’s odd. I’m on the town council, and I usually know these things before the public does. “I haven’t heard about any layoffs.”

  Stanley stuffs another muffin in his mouth. Andie pulls out a pitcher of sweet tea and pours glasses for all three of us. Stanley guzzles his down and slides his glass over to Andie for a refill, which she obliges.

  “It’s only me. Seems like the big company that owns the plant in Boston...” He spits that city’s name out as if it is poison and stares at Andie. “They don’t want someone without a high school education.”

  She nibbles on a fingernail.

  I crunch down on an ice cube. “I thought you got your GED a while back.”

  He dives into a third muffin. At least they won’t go to waste. It means a lot to me that Andie has a soft spot for Stanley. Just because he doesn’t make much money doesn’t mean he has to go hungry.

  “I tried, but I didn’t pass. Not good with tests.”

  Silence fills the room. Andie drums her fingers on the counter, and tears well up in her eyes.

  “But hey, don’t worry about that,” he says. “Something will turn up. I got connections.”

  I pat him on his sweaty back. He’s such a decent guy. I hate how hard the situation is for him. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anything. I’ll put in a positive word for you. You’re a hard worker.”

  He swallows the last bit of edible food and stands, dusting off the muffin crumbs onto the floor. He guzzles the rest of his iced tea and burps. Classy.

  “Thanks, man, but I’m okay. Andie, thanks for the muffins. Not bad.”

  She gives him a thumbs-up. “See you tomorrow night for more leftovers?”