Sweet Water

by Lena North

  Crap, I thought. The man was his uncle so that might not have been the best way to tell him what I knew.

  “Doing?” he asked, and I blinked.

  “Fu –”

  “Yes, Jiminella,” he cut me off. “I know what you mean.”

  I didn’t say anything in reply to this and felt a bit stupid because of course he knew what I meant.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Ask Wilder. She saw it that night when she was sneaking around, looking for clues about her stepfather. It was the night Mac got…” I trailed off, mentally bashing myself for being so stupid.

  Mac had gotten into a fight with Paolo Fratinelli’s cousin, which had injured him badly, and Wilder had told me that Dante helped them but what if she’d been wrong? Maybe he hadn’t?

  “I know what happened to Mac,” he said when I hesitated.

  “Okay. So, Wilder didn’t exactly stay around to see the actual deed. Saw the man unbutton his sister in law’s shirt and put his hand on her, um… endowments,” I finished lamely, wondering why I couldn’t just say tits like I would have with any other friend. “Then Wilder ended up behind this house, and suddenly Paolo walked in and placed papers in several of the drawers. She didn’t think much about it because of everything else that happened, but she told us all when she and Mac got back to Double H.”

  “Huh,” Dante said, and there was relief on his face, but he remained silent, clearly thinking through what I said.

  “I think you should do it,” I heard myself saying.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Be the Mayor,” I explained, and clarified, stupidly, “Here.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “My family has lead this village for generations,” he added but didn’t look too happy about it.

  “You don’t want to do it?” I asked.

  “We haven’t done very well so far. The village is in shambles, and we’re too isolated. Lethargic. I have some ideas, but it will bring changes that not everyone will like.”

  He was the kind of man who would report his dead father to the authorities for smuggling drugs, just because it was the right thing to do. I’d heard how the others talked about him over the past weeks and he was respected and liked.

  “I still think you should do it,” I insisted. Then I added what I thought was a kind and helpful offer to a man that was the friend of my girlfriend and her man. “I can help.”

  He straightened immediately, and the face that in the past few minutes had been worried and sad, but also unbelievably soft, turned hard as granite.

  “I don’t need that help,” he clipped.

  I blinked.

  “There’s no need for you to get involved,” he added, and went on, “This is not your village, so you can focus your energy on your own issues.”

  His words seemed to come at me physically, and they felt like tiny needles piercing my skin, burning into my mind. Of course, I thought. I’d done it again.

  I’d been meddling, overbearing and condescending. I’d talked too much, and I’d stuck my stupid, stupid nose into what didn’t concern me. My belly clenched and burned and to my horror, my eyes stung.

  “You’re right, Dante,” I said calmly, relying on years of experience with snide comments to get to my feet without my legs giving out underneath me.

  He made that face again, the one that looked like he smelled something foul, and I just couldn’t stay in the room.

  “I’m sorry for interfering. It was impolite of me,” I said and walked away like I had done so many times before.

  He called out my name as I left but I thought he sounded more exasperated than anything, so I ignored it and closed the door quietly.

  “Don’t think about it,” I murmured to myself as I walked back to the store to pick up my clothes.

  Two bags full of clothes were waiting for me, and I looked at them in surprise. One was a huge beach bag with a colorful floral print, and the other was a smaller tote bag, more like a big purse, made from the same fabric.

  “I thought you’d like the bags. I’m sorry, you did say clothes, so I’ll just –” Martha murmured, flustered and worried, as she picked up a plastic bag and opened it with a practiced snap.

  I drew in a deep breath.

  “No,” I said and sucked in another deep gulp of air. “The bags are lovely, and I do want them. I was just walking too fast, so I was out of breath.”

  I pushed all thoughts of Dante to the back of my head. I would have to deal with him later, or not at all. Being friends with him seemed far out of my reach. It was what it was, though, and there would be others to help him if he needed it. I’d just avoid him as much as I could for the next couple of months, and after that, he wouldn’t have to see me anymore.

  Then I focused on the clothes Martha pulled out of the bags, obviously eager to show me. I spent a good hour in the store, enjoying myself more than I thought possible. Martha was clearly not a scholar or scientist, but she absolutely knew her stuff when it came to clothes, and her enthusiasm was infectious, even to someone as uninterested in fashion as me. In the end, I agreed to everything she’d picked out. I thought she’d have a seizure when she heard that I didn’t have a bathing suit, so without further ado, a tiny green and turquoise bikini was added to the bags.

  I paid and grinned at her.

  “Money well spent, Martha,” I said. “I hate shopping, but you just made it bearable, so thanks for that too.” Then a thought hit me, and I asked her, “Are the clothes made here in Marshes?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I make some of the simpler things, but my cousin is the one doing all the good stuff. Not the bikinis and underwear, though, and one of my friends makes the sandals. She makes shoes too, although mostly for the men. We go to Prosper to find high heels,” she explained with a wink.

  “I have a friend who sells clothes outside Treville,” I said slowly, wondering if the boisterous Bozo would want any of her things in his admittedly rather biker friendly store. “Would you mind if I ask him to come and have a look at what you have? It might not fit with Bozo’s store, but I could ask –”

  “You know Bo Draper?” she interrupted.

  “What?” I asked, not understanding who she was talking about.

  “Bo Draper. Bozo. The owner of Crazy’s?”

  I looked at her. I knew what Crazy’s was because I bought all my white shirts there. It was the biggest department store in Prosper, with stores in Treville and Twin City as well. Then I connected the dots and picked up my phone.

  “Bozo, you sly bastard,” I growled when Bo picked up.

  “Jinx, you bald goblin,” he replied.

  “What?”

  “Oh sorry, darling,” he chuckled. “I thought you just called to trade random insults.”

  I had to laugh then, and after a short conversation which confirmed that the man did indeed own Crazy’s, he promised to come to Marshes to look at Martha’s store.

  “Posthaste, darling. Post. Haste. If someone who wears nothing but unflattering white shirts thinks the clothes are nice, then they must be beyond fabulous.”

  He pronounced it faah-bew-loose, and even though I knew it was partially an act it was also a part of his personality, and I laughed as I put the phone back in my pocket, turning to Martha who was staring at me with her mouth open. A small whimper escaped her lips, but then she seemed to collect herself. She started speaking a few times, and I waited patiently.

  “Bo Draper is coming here?” she whispered finally.

  “Yes,” I replied, fighting hard to hold back a chuckle as I added, “He might not like what he sees. He’s a bit odd.”

  “Okay,” she said and continued through clenched teeth, “You need to leave now.”

  I raised my brows. I’d only made a phone call, so I didn’t deserve any overwhelming gratitude, but I hadn’t expected to be thrown out either.

  “You have to leave because I will start screaming out loud. Imminently,” Martha explained succinctly. “Then
I’ll call my cousin who will do the same. My mother will hear either if us, and when she gets wind that Bo Draper is coming, she will scream even louder. All of us fangirling, and doing it loudly, will be embarrassing, so yeah. You need to leave.”

  I started laughing and shook my head as I took both the bags and left. There was a loud scream coming from inside as the door closed and I laughed even harder then.

  “Jinx!” a voice called out, and I turned toward Anetta, who was walking briskly down the road toward me. She’d been in Prosper with her husband, so I hadn’t met her, and I was anxious to get news about him.

  “Hey,” I called to her. “How’s Daniele?”

  “Absolutely great! They’re letting him come home today. Tony is already in Prosper to pick him up,” she replied, and to my surprise, she wrapped me up in a close but incredibly soft hug. “We’re having a welcome home get-together at the restaurant tonight. You must come!”

  “That’s great news, Anetta,” I replied and went on hesitantly, “But the gathering will surely be for Daniele's family and friends, I shouldn’t…”

  She stared at me and smiled sweetly.

  “Don’t be silly, you are a friend. And after what you did, I think you can call him Danny,” she said with a wink. Then the smile died, and she put a hand on my arm. “There is nothing I can ever do to repay you, so I won’t even try. But please, celebrate with us tonight. Danny will want you to be there.”

  “Then thank you, I would be happy to come, Anetta, but really… I just did what anyone would have done.”

  “Maybe,” she said, smiling again, “but it was you who did it, Jinx.”

  I thought about that as I walked back to Mrs. Fratinelli’s house, with a couple of big bags full of clothes in my hands. Going to a party. I could do that.

  Maybe I’d even wear one of my new blouses?

  Chapter Five

  Dinner and dancing

  My good mood disappeared quickly when I heard my name called out once again. Snow was walking toward me with a worried look on her face. I stopped, but before she came even close, another voice rang out.

  “Snow. Don’t,” Dante barked as he came jogging toward her.

  She turned, saying something that I couldn’t hear, but I heard him.

  “I’m not asking you, honey. I’m telling you. It will only make things worse, so don’t.”

  Her shoulders straightened, and her hands moved agitatedly. When Dante spoke again, his voice was quiet, but I still caught every word.

  “This didn’t work out at all, Snow, and you know it. I talked to Daniele, and he agrees. I’ll call Mac, ask him to get her out of here –”

  I must have made a small sound because they both turned toward me. Everything hurt, from my head, which felt as if it would explode, through my belly and all the way into my soul.

  I’d tried hard to fit in, to make friends and be someone they all could respect. Someone they could like. I’d come there as a blank sheet to everyone, and it hurt to realize that what I’d showed them had not been good enough. That I wasn’t good enough. Helping them with injuries, and spending money – sure. Jiminella Nixée Sweetwater… Not good enough.

  Before either of them could say anything, I turned and walked on unsteady legs into the house where, in spite of the money I paid her, my hostess couldn’t make an effort to even pretend to like me.

  I’d packed my bags and was checking to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, getting ready to leave for my place in the mountains. I felt like a fool for not going there before and wondered for the millionth time why I had stayed, first in Prosper and then later in Marshes.

  Thoughts were suddenly racing around in a jumbled mess in my head, although I couldn’t make any sense out of them. All I knew was that I had to leave. I was so tired, and the medicine I’d taken didn’t seem to help. I’d doubled the dose, and my stomach still burned as if it was on fire.

  A knock on the door made me jump and then Mrs. Fratinelli called out that dinner was on the table, and I should hurry so we’d have time to eat before it was time to welcome Daniele home.

  “Crap,” I muttered. I should walk out of there and tell everyone in this bigoted, awful little village to go fuck themselves. Then I remembered Daniele’s eyes as we’d sat together and talked, just before his injury. Anetta’s sweet smile. Martha’s wild joy that Bozo was visiting her store. Tony and his recurring carburetor issues.

  No, I decided. Not everyone was awful, and I’d not run away like a weak coward. I’d welcome Daniele home, and I’d smile as I did it. Then I’d tell Dante and his stupid girlfriend to shove something up their behinds. I tore off the white shirt and put a flowy, colorful blouse on instead.

  Then I walked into the dining room to find that Mrs. Fratinelli had for the first time planned to eat together with me. She’d made shrimps in what seemed to be a coconut sauce with curry and large chunks of something that looked like green chili. It smelled absolutely divine, and I looked around for rice, or noodles, or anything that would soak up the chili, but all I could see was a few small pieces of bread next to the bowls she’d set the table with.

  I ate slowly, determined to not make her feel bad about the food she’d obviously spent quite some time preparing, and it tasted heavenly, but every bite burned as I swallowed and my stomach churned. It felt like the meal went on forever, and we didn’t exchange one single word through it.

  “It looks like we have leftovers for tomorrow,” Mrs. Fratinelli scoffed as she put the lid on the pot, and the displeasure she felt about the small portion I’d eaten was written all over her face.

  Then we walked in complete silence next to each other to the restaurant located just by the beach that Anetta’s family owned. The huge porch was full of people, music was playing loudly, and some had already started dancing. It seemed as if the whole village was there. The mood was light and happy as they celebrated their injured friend coming home from the hospital.

  Daniele was sitting on a bench at a table in the back of the restaurant, and as I made my way through the crowd everyone was smiling, and I hoped that the sour taste I had in my mouth didn’t show on my face as I smiled back at them. Finally, I reached the reason for the celebration, and he scooted to the side, patting the bench to indicate that I was to sit down.

  “Thanks,” he murmured, and the smile I gave him was the first real one in the whole evening.

  “Happy to help,” I replied.

  “I know you are,” he replied. “You are way too nice, Jinx, and you have to learn to say no before it all kills you,” he added.

  He was still smiling, but his eyes were solemn, and I realized that he was much more serious than his happy face indicated.

  “Okay,” I said, and added quietly, “I’m leaving, Danny. I just wanted to see you before I go.”

  “Running away?” he asked just as quietly, but I thought it sounded like he was taunting me.

  People were moving all around us and laughter mingled with the music, but it felt as if we were all alone in a bubble, separated from everyone else.

  “Maybe,” I replied.

  “I wish you’d stay,” he muttered. “You don’t have to leave, Jinx, I can –”

  I’d never know what it was he could do because we were interrupted by more people coming to greet him, so I got to my feet and stepped aside. Then I gave him a small wave and walked toward the porch.

  Holding on to my pride I walked straight past Dante and Snow, giving them a small smile and a nod as I passed. I didn’t want to rush out of there after that, so I took the glass of wine one of Anetta’s many cousins offered me, walked over to the side and leaned on the wall to watch the couples who were dancing.

  I'd wanted to learn how to dance for years, and I’d practiced for hours on my own, in my condo and after shutting the blinds, following video instructions that I’d found on the net. As it turned out, this had been something all my intelligence couldn't help me with. I’d tried so hard, using schematics I'd created for
what body part went where, and at what beat, but my feet still didn’t do what I wanted. I could feel the beat of the music and move according to the instructions, but what I saw in the mirror never seemed quite right.

  I felt completely out of place as I stood there, casually leaning against the wall with a soft and amused smile on my face. I’d wanted so much to be a part of something like this and now that I was, I still somehow wasn’t. The colorful blouse felt ridiculous, my hair hung limply, and I had sneakers with my jeans when all the other women wore dresses and high heels.

  I sighed and was about to walk away when a young man stepped up in front of me.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  He was about my age, and he was smiling tentatively.

  “I’m sorry, but I was about to leave,” I replied gently. “Maybe another time,” I added.

  He swallowed, nodded and walked away. I could see how one of his friends nudged him in the side and said something that made him blush. Shit, I thought and wished I’d never gone to the restaurant at all.

  “What is wrong with you?” a hoarse voice hissed next to me.

  I turned to look at Mrs. Fratinelli. She looked furious and didn’t hesitate to spit out a long line of angry accusations.

  “You think you’re better than everyone else, don’t you? The food I make the effort to cook for you ends up in the waste bin every day, and tonight you could barely make yourself eat it even though you look like a scrawny bird.”

  I gasped and was about to say something about my stomach when she cut me off.

  “Jinx Sweetwater. Too good for the people in this village, aren’t you? You didn’t want to come here tonight, and you might as well have stayed away. Standing here to the side, not talking to anyone. And when a young man finally musters all his courage and asks you to dance, you couldn’t even lower yourself to do that? He’ll be hearing about that for years, and that’s on you.”

  I raised my hand to stop her from talking. My head felt like it would explode and there was a bitter taste in my mouth. To get rid of it, I downed the entire glass of wine in two big gulps. Then I leaned slightly toward the older woman, standing there with her back straight and eyes burning with anger.