by Susan Crosby
Dixie put the teakettle on as grandmother and grandson talked, then she warmed the china teapot and a mug with hot water, filled an infuser with loose Earl Grey leaves. In a little while, she would fix oatmeal with dates and walnuts, and a poached egg. The breakfast menu rarely varied.
Dixie would miss her, this generous woman who had provided unconditional love and guidance. Tears burned Dixie’s throat, welled in her eyes, made her heart ache. She kept her back to the others, poured the boiling water into the pot, then excused herself.
“I need to get dressed,” she said, not looking at them. “Tea will be ready in a couple of minutes.”
Dixie heard Joe drive off a little while later. She made her way downstairs.
“Joe left a key to the house for you,” Nana Mae said, pushing it across the table toward Dixie.
“Thanks. Ready for breakfast?” she asked cheerfully while pocketing the key.
“If you are.”
“I’m starving.” Dixie moved around the kitchen, gathering what she needed. As soon as the oatmeal was cooking, she went into Nana Mae’s bathroom and came back with her hairbrush, curling iron and hair spray. Sunlight poured onto the regal woman from the kitchen window as she sipped her tea, contentment on her face. Holding her mug in both hands to warm them, she closed her eyes.
“I’m going to miss this, Dixie. You’ve made my mornings such a pleasure.”
Dixie didn’t talk. She brushed the thinning silver hair over and over, then styled it into a youthful look just when it was time to ease the eggs into simmering water. She’d gotten the cooking-time process down to a science.
“You’re too quiet,” Nana Mae said when her food was set before her.
“Lots on my mind.”
The older woman nodded. “I’m glad you and Joe have settled things.”
“Me, too.” Although it wasn’t really, truly settled. It had taken them a year to get this far, after all. And they hadn’t yet dated anyone in front of each other. That would be a major test.
“Here’s some good news,” Nana Mae said. “Our sweet Caroline was accepted at paramedic school. She was hinting that she wants to move in with me. So, it would seem there’s no lurch to worry about.”
Relief washed over Dixie. Joe’s niece Caroline was twenty-five and responsible, not a party girl.
“As soon as possible,” Nana Mae added.
Dixie smiled. “Are you kicking me out?”
“I’m giving you wings.”
Dixie shoved away from the table to hug the woman who was so dear to her. “I’m so grateful for the time I lived with you. You are such an example to me in so many ways.”
“I’ve loved having you. Maybe I could schedule a once-a-week appointment with you at the shop.”
“Of course. Maybe for a massage and facial, too, now and then?”
Nana Mae blinked in surprise. “Well, why not?”
Dixie grinned. She felt secure enough that she would get a loan that she didn’t mind word getting around, which it would now, with Nana Mae knowing. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”
“Of course. Go, my dear. Enjoy this new stage of your life. I admire you, you know. You’re very brave to do this on your own.”
“I’m not on my own. So many people are supporting me. How can I fail?” Let me count the ways. She ignored the skeptical little voice whispering in her head.
How could she feel so burdened yet so light at the same time? How could the air be so cold and her body so warm? How could she feel both happy and sad? Was this the new normal for her?
At least she was finally feeling something, after a year of tamping down her emotions. She could be excited or scared or joyful or teary. It was all good.
Dixie was still smiling when she parked her car behind the beauty shop and walked to her parents’ hardware store less than a block away. They opened at 7:00 a.m., ready to serve the tradesmen who also started early.
Her father, Malcolm, waved at her as he spoke to Maury the plumber. Dixie kept going to the rear of the store, where her mother, Beatrice, would be manning the parts department and the phone.
“Hey, Mom.” Dixie swept the statuesque woman into a big hug. Although in her seventies, Bea was healthy and vital. It was her father Dixie worried about. He’d begun to show his age.
“I’ve been hearing rumors about you,” Bea said.
“I’m the talk of the town these days.” Dixie poured herself a mug of coffee, then dumped some powdered creamer in it. “No, Joe and I aren’t getting back together. Yes, I’m buying Bitty’s shop and turning it into a day spa. If you’ve heard anything else, tell me and I’ll separate fact from fiction.”
“That sets the record straight, I think.” Bea angled around Dixie, looking for Malcolm. “Your father’s a little hurt that you didn’t buy the store. You’ve worked here since you were a kid. You know the business backward and forward. And we haven’t had a single offer since we put it on the market after you quit.”
“It’s not my dream, Mom.”
“Nor your brother’s.”
Dixie laughed. “Gavin’s a doctor. You think he’d give that up?”
“He could buy it. Let someone else run it.”
Dixie and her siblings were late-in-life babies, Gavin having been born after their parents were married for almost twenty years, Dixie three years later, and their younger sister, Shana, two years after that. The siblings had been kept on tight leashes, not allowed the freedom that most children in the small community had, always having to account for their whereabouts. That hadn’t stopped Shana from running away from home at eighteen and never returning.
Dixie had never forgiven her for that. She’d watched her parents suffer horribly at the loss of their daughter. Consequently, Dixie had felt obligated to fill in for her sister, too, being twice as much daughter.
“Someone will buy the store, Mom. And how is my big brother, the doctor?”
“He never writes. He never calls.”
Dixie hadn’t heard such bitterness from her mother before. She wasn’t an overly positive kind of person, but not usually so negative, either. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“I’m just tired. I’m seventy-one, you know, and I’ve been working here all my adult life. I want to rent an RV and travel before it’s too late. And Dad’s seventy-five. Who knows how much time he’s got left.”
“Why don’t you promote Doug to manager? He’s completely qualified, I think, after working here for fifteen years. He could hire someone to help temporarily. There are lots of qualified people looking for work during the off season, you know.” It wasn’t the first time Dixie had suggested the solution, but this time, she added something else. “I’ll oversee the books, the bank deposits and the ordering. I know those are the things you worry about most.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Dixie stopped at that.
Bea hugged her, almost squeezing the breath out of her. “Thank you so much. You’re a good daughter. I always knew you could be.”
Now there was a backhanded compliment, as Nana Mae was fond of saying.
“Hey, sweetheart,” her father said as he joined them.
“Hi, Dad.” She gave him a hug, felt his bony ribs and wondered when he’d gotten so thin.
“Malcolm, guess what? Dixie’s going to run the store for us so we can go away.”
Her father turned a sharp gaze on her. “But I heard you were buying out Bitty.”
“How did you hear that? I just decided yesterday.”
“Bruno Manning was in this morning. Said he’d run some numbers for you on remodeling Bitty’s shop. Was it a secret? If so, you should know that Bruno’s got a big mouth.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that. But Dad, I’m not going to run your store.” She sent a that’s-not-what-I-said glance at her mother, then repeated her offer to her father.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I want you to enjoy yourselves. Get away. Have some fun. So go ge
t yourself an RV. It’s already late in the season to be taking off for parts unknown.”
“Thank you.” His voice shook.
Dixie didn’t want to see him get emotional.
She was also biting off much more than she could chew by helping out her parents. She recognized that and would be prepared to hear about it from almost everyone in her life. However, it wouldn’t be for too long. Her parents couldn’t stay away for any length of time. But maybe they would start taking short trips more often, once they got a taste of adventure.
It was a good thing she hadn’t started a new relationship yet, because she sure wouldn’t have time for one.
Her phone rang. Joe. “Hi,” she said, aiming for breezy.
“Kincaid’s lined up the appraiser for eleven o’clock. Do you want to be there?”
“Should I be?”
“I can’t, so either we reschedule or you’ll have to do it. I’ll have a copy of the key made for Kincaid.”
“I’m at my parents’ store. I can do it now, then meet him at the house.” She wanted to know why Joe wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t involved in the labor part of his job anymore, except to do Nana Mae’s yard. He drummed up business, designed landscapes, supervised work—surely he could take a half hour to oversee the appraisal. It wasn’t like him to give up that kind of control.
“Sounds good, Dix. Thanks. Let me know how it goes, okay?”
“Okay.” She hung up. He sounded strange. Strained. As if he was trying to keep himself as upbeat for her as she was for him.
And why the interest earlier in how she felt about Kincaid? What did it matter?
“Is everything okay?” her mother asked.
“What? Oh. Yes, it’s fine. In case you start hearing more rumors about Joe and me, here’s the truth instead.” She disclosed the bare minimum about selling the house, having learned not to take her parents into her confidence unless she wanted an earful of debate that usually left her unsure. She didn’t need that now. She needed to be around people who believed in her. It was another reason she wanted them gone for now. Another reason for stretching herself thin.
And then there was another concern niggling at the corners of her mind. If she gave up all ties to Joe, did it mean she would lose his family—who had become her family—too?
Oh, they all might try to stay friends, but she couldn’t be invited to the family parties anymore. It wouldn’t be right. Yet so much of her social life was tied up with the McCoys—all thirty-five of them.
She didn’t even want to think about it. She was going to let herself be excited, and enjoy the process of being just Dixie.
Chapter Four
It had been a very long week, Joe thought, a roller-coaster ride from beginning to end. But right now it was Saturday night, which meant a live band would be playing at the Stompin’ Grounds, the local watering hole famous for its beer and burgers for forty years. Joe hadn’t missed too many Saturday nights there.
The bar and grill’s interior showed its age, but it was rare that someone saw it in full light, anyway, the wagon-wheel-shaped overhead fixtures lighting up the room only enough to see who was crying in their beer or sneaking a kiss. Customers wouldn’t tolerate change, not brighter lights or unmarred tabletops or a floor without peanut shells.
Joe leaned against the bar, a mug of draft in hand, remembering his first time at the Stompin’ Grounds. He and Dixie turned twenty-one a day apart, he first. His brothers, Jake and Donovan, had made it a point to be home for his birthday, and he was as thrilled to have his big brothers here to help him celebrate as he was to turn twenty-one.
Leaving an underage, unhappy Dixie behind, Jake and Donovan bought Joe his first drink, then his second. His third. And finally his fourth—just in time for Dixie to show up at midnight, legally of age to be here. He hadn’t passed out, but he’d been “stupidly happy,” as Jake had called him.
Joe felt tempted to repeat that momentous occasion tonight. To make sure he didn’t, he’d invited Jake and his wife, Keri, to come with him.
He sipped his first beer of the evening as he watched his brother and sister-in-law dance, enjoying a rare night away from their seven-month-old daughter, Isabella. The jukebox music was slow and twangy. They were wrapped in each other’s arms, barely taking up space on the dance floor, seemingly fused together.
Maybe a new McCoy would be conceived tonight. For sure, Joe and Dixie had left here many Saturday nights to tangle in bed, all hot and bothered from dancing body to body. If she hadn’t been on the pill…
He wondered if she would show up tonight. It had been their Saturday-night tradition for a long time, one they’d both continued since their breakup, the difference being that they’d been ignoring each other across the crowded room for a year.
She’d brought loan papers for him to sign two days ago. She looked good, rushed but also relaxed. Excited and happy. He hadn’t seen her openly happy in a very long time, leading him to conclude he’d done the right thing by officially ending their relationship.
He’d heard she hired Bruno Manning as her contractor, a man with a reputation for good work, but who was always behind schedule. Joe was surprised she hadn’t used Kincaid, wondered what was happening with them, if anything.
The band was almost ready to start their first set. They were checking mikes and sound levels over the jukebox music, creating a clamor. Memories assaulted him. It was here, little more than a year ago, with the same band playing, that he’d proposed to Dixie in public.
They’d started off the evening at opposite sides of the room because they’d been fighting for a couple of weeks. She had moved out, in fact, having reached the end of her rope with him. He knew he would lose her if he didn’t propose, so he did, in front of everyone. She accepted. They were happy for a few days—until she asked him to set a date.
He’d hesitated, then froze.
If he married her, he would never leave Chance City. If he didn’t marry her, there was a possibility someday he would be able to go. He hadn’t thought it through. He’d only thought about losing Dixie.
But he’d wanted what his brothers had—the opportunity to see the world, to do something exciting. If he married Dixie, they would start a family right away. It was what she wanted. He couldn’t tell her he didn’t want that yet. She would think he didn’t want her, and that wasn’t true.
She’d accused him once of wanting to play the field, but that had never been true. It had always been Dixie for him. He’d dated a little when they were separated, but he’d never slept with another woman.
He tried to tell her that, but she’d thrown the ring at him, piled some clothes into a suitcase and taken off. The next day while he was working, she took the rest of her belongings, leaving her key behind on the dining-room table.
That was when he knew this break would be different from the other times. And it had been. Painfully so. And now his brothers had moved home. He would have his chance, after all. The chance to see the world, as they had.
But at what cost?
“Let’s get a round in before the band starts,” Jake said, breaking into Joe’s thoughts and handing him a cue stick.
Joe looked around. “Where’s Keri?”
Jake nodded to his wife where she sat at a table with Dixie. Joe had been lost in such a sea of memories that he hadn’t seen or heard her come in. Keri glanced over, looking serious, but Dixie was angled sideways.
He did notice Dixie was wearing her lucky red boots, however, and his favorite yellow Western shirt, with Wranglers that fit like a second skin. He knew how her hair would smell, knew how the curls felt in his hands—
“Let it go,” Jake said close to Joe’s ear. “The table won’t be free for long.”
Joe was racking the balls when the door swung open and his brother Donovan and new wife, Laura, breezed in, fresh from their honeymoon.
“Aloha!” Laura shouted.
The drummer sounded a roll, then the lead guitarist played something vaguel
y Hawaiian sounding. Laura broke into a hula. She and Donovan both looked tanned and rested and happy.
A little envious, Joe made his way to them, waited until everyone was done hugging, then offered to buy the newlyweds a drink.
“We’re not staying,” Donovan said. “We saw all your cars in the parking lot and thought we’d say hello. But we’re anxious to see Ethan. Mom let him stay up. He’s waiting.”
“What’s this I hear about you working for your parents?” Joe heard Laura ask Dixie.
The news came as a shock to Joe. No one had passed on that a bit of information. He looked at Dixie in time to see her shifting her feet in that way she had that signaled she was uncomfortable.
“You were supposed to be in a gossip-free zone during your honeymoon,” she said to Laura.
“I talked to Keri every day. She kept Ethan when Aggie couldn’t. So, is it true?”
“My parents headed south today in an RV for a little vacation. I’m helping out while they’re gone.”
“Are you crazy?” Joe asked, unable to hold back. “You hated working for them. With good reason.”
Silence descended among the six people huddled together. The band launched into their opening number, causing the floor to shake under their feet, making conversation impossible, too, without yelling.
“They need me,” she shouted.
He couldn’t tell if she was angry or just making herself heard over the music.
“And I know what I’m doing,” she added. “Plus they won’t be here, you know. And it’s really none of your business.”
She won’t have time to date.
The thought struck him, loud and clear.
Then Kincaid came up beside her, not touching her, but making his presence known. Even without laying a hand on her, he looked proprietary.
Did she have a date with Kincaid? Is that why she’d come without her friends Sheryl and Nancy, her usual companions?
It was what he’d wanted—he’d handpicked Kincaid—but seeing them standing together, smiling at each other…
Joe couldn’t stay. It was awkward for all of them, but particularly for him, since he was the one without a date. Although if he’d had a date, he wouldn’t have brought her here, to the place where he and Dixie usually could be found every Saturday night.
