by L. M. Pruitt
“I’d like to take credit for that but all I really did was pick out the paint colors.” And if I was being honest, even that hadn’t required too much thought. Turned out the house, while not on the National Register of Historical Buildings, was still something of a county landmark and so I’d had some limitations on what I could as far as the exterior. The interior had already been through so many renovations that there was no way in hell it would ever qualify for the Register so I’d had a free hand there but the people who ran the trust had put their foot down on the exterior paint. “And we still haven’t done anything noteworthy with the landscaping yet.”
Although I was seriously considering a pool. And a hot tub. And a deck.
But later—after I’d gotten used to the sticker shock of a mortgage and I’d built up a little equity.
“Still, it looks wonderful.” The abundance of praise coming from her was more than a little off-putting. Between that and the toothpaste commercial smile, I didn’t think I was wrong for being suspicious about what the true reason behind her impromptu visit might be. Somehow, she managed to turn up the wattage on her smile, showcasing two rows of teeth which were ruler straight thanks to the orthodontics her parents had shelled out serious money for when we were in middle school. “But I’m sure you know that’s not the reason why I’m here.”
“Something told me you didn’t drive all the way over here to compliment me on my eye for color.” I set my purse on the trunk of the car and leaned against the bumper, crossing my arms. “So what can I do for you, Beth?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t need to do anything.” She reached over and gripped my elbows and somehow I resisted the urge to flinch and pull away. “I wanted to say ‘thank you’, from me and my daughter.”
I stared at her unblinking for a long minute before saying, “Beth, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’re the one who handled the thing with the cheerleading captain, aren’t you?” Before I could answer, she waved one hand absently, shooing away any response I might have made. “Well, not you directly. Everybody knows Mrs. Hansom was the one who put the call through to the principal but everybody also knows the only reason she would have done it was because Abraham asked her to and the only reason he would have done it was because you asked him to do something.”
“I don’t know what’s more impressive, the fact everybody apparently knows everything about something which doesn’t concern them or the fact you got that entire summation out in one sentence without breathing.” Feeling light-headed myself from my own little bout of word vomit, I gently eased out of her grip, rubbing my temple with one hand. “And I honestly don’t know what happened. All I know is this Tina Anne is on some sort of power trip and doesn’t care if she starts a whole group of her peers down the road to an eating disorder. I asked Abraham what we could do and he said his mother would take care of things. End of story.”
“Well, Mrs. Hansom more than took care of things.” The gleam in Beth’s eyes was too similar to what I’d seen when we were in high school and she was watching Lynn berate me for being poor or having the nerve to have breasts and even though we were both long out of high school and Beth actually seemed like a human these days, it was still enough to put my nerves on edge. “Tina Anne has been suspended from the cheerleading squad for the entire fall semester. Her mother is fit to be tied and her daddy is raising all sorts of hell about the money he’s given to the team but the principal is standing his ground for the first time in... Jesus, I don’t even know how long.”
“Well, that’s... nice.” It was a lame response and I knew it but I honestly couldn’t think of a better response. All I’d been hoping for when I asked Abraham to speak to his mother was for someone to have a come to Jesus talk with this Tina Anne. I wasn’t petty enough to try and ruin someone’s life.
That was a lie. I was petty enough to want to ruin someone’s life but not a teenager’s. That was just wrong.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Parent-Teacher Association voted to give you some kind of award.” Beth chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Tina Anne makes me, Lynn, and Dana look like angels.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” The retort was out before I even realized it was in my brain and I slapped a hand over my mouth, more than a little horrified at myself. It took a moment to process the fact she wasn’t yelling or even glaring but instead was laughing as if I’d told her the funniest joke in the history of the world. Lowering my hand, I said, “Beth, I am so sorry.”
“For what? Telling the truth?” She patted the tears from her cheeks, continuing to laugh. “Honey, I know we were horrible. We were absolute little shits and cruel to boot. I can’t speak for Lynn and Dana but I’d like to think I’ve done some growing up since high school and I’m not such a little shit these days.” She trailed off with a sigh and a wink. “Not that I’m a saint but I don’t think I’ve made anyone but my husband cry in years and that was because I finally told him he could buy the boat he’d been wanting since we got married.”
“Right.” Not the most brilliant response but I’d be damned if I could think of anything. I hadn’t wasted a single thought on any of the people in Cotton Creek—other than my family—in the last fifteen years but for some reason I’d never really considered the idea that some of them might have changed as much as I had. Clearing my throat, I said, “I guess you’re familiar with all this PTA stuff and extracurricular and teacher conferences and all.”
“I could probably plan and execute a bake sale or a car wash in my sleep.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “Let me tell you, after I had to host the first team sleepover for the cheerleading squad, I sent my mother the biggest bouquet of flowers and booked her an appointment at a spa in Atlanta. I barely survived one and she dealt with it for four years.”
“Team sleepovers?” Pushing that particular horror aside for some later time, I shook my head and said, “Never mind. Um, I don’t have any experience with that stuff. So I wonder if it would be okay if I called you with any questions or—.”
“Oh, of course, of course.” She gave another absent wave before rolling her eyes and laughing. “Anybody doing what you’re doing is bound to need a little help now and then. First your sister’s kids and then Kitty Haverty... you got more on your plate than half the parents in the school.”
“Great. Thanks.” And although it felt weird—again, she’d been part of the trio which had made a good portion of my life a living hell—I found myself giving in to impulse and asking, “Do you maybe want to get a drink sometime?”
“Depends.” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Are you talking like someplace fancy with wine you have to wait five years to drink because it has to ‘air’ and ‘breathe’ and all sorts of other crap?”
“No.” I swallowed down the laugh threatening to bubble out and shook my head. “No, I’m really more of a tequila girl.”
“Oh, thank you, sweet baby Jesus.” She clasped her hands together in mock prayer and looked toward the metaphorical heavens before lowering her gaze back to me and beaming. “I love tequila. Give me a shot with a lime and I’m happy as a clam.”
“Then we’ll have to see about doing a few shots next Friday night after we survive the first week of school.” I inclined my head toward the trailer. “I better get inside and make sure Dolly and Conway haven’t drove Tammy up the wall while I’ve been gone.”
“Kids will do that.” I was almost to the screen door when she called my name and I glanced over my shoulder to find her still smiling, although it was somewhat wistful now. “It’ll be nice to have a friend again.”
“Yeah.” Although I couldn’t recall the last time I’d actually had a friend. “Yeah, it will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The next day was just as chaotic as I’d thought it would be but, as I kept reminding myself, nobody died. Every time Tammy freaked out over a box going in the wrong room, every time Kitty got
emotional over the fact she even had a room, every time Dolly tried to do cartwheels down the main hall, every time Conway—quiet, sweet, easygoing Conway—screamed because somebody touched his doll, I reminded myself that if nothing else, nobody had died.
It was a mark of how stressed I was that the thought wasn’t nearly as comforting as it should have been.
When Abraham showed up on my front porch around eight on Saturday night with five pizzas, I didn’t know whether to kiss him or weep tears of gratitude. I settled for simply saying, “You’re my hero,” and opening the door wider, stepping to one side so he could come inside. “If you’re here, who’s at the bar?”
“I closed down early.” He brushed a kiss over my forehead. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”
“I’ve definitely had better days.” I swung the door shut, turning to him and opening the lid on the top box. “But you brought me pizza so it’s getting better.”
“I’ve seen you eat a time or two so I know you can put some food away but I don’t think you can eat all of this by yourself.” He nudged me out of the way, taking the pizza with him, forcing me to trail behind him like a lost puppy. “Besides, if you did you’d have to find something to feed the kids and something tells me you’re too tired for cooking.”
“Oh, for sure.” I frowned at his back as he made his way to the kitchen without asking for directions, leaning against the doorframe and watching as he set the pizzas on the kitchen island, the grease spotted boxes a jarring contrast to the shiny granite countertop. “How did you know where the kitchen was?”
“Uh, I might have snuck in here once or twice in my wild and misspent youth.” He moved to the row of cabinets hanging over the sink, shooting me a grin over his shoulder. “Had a few daydreams about the girl who ran the school newspaper.”
“Aunt Jeannie has a magazine, not a newspaper.” Dolly streaked in to the room, throwing herself at Abraham hard enough he needed to grab the counter or risk falling over. Wrapping her arms around his legs, she looked up at him and said, “Hi. Where have you been? I missed you. You should have come to see us.”
“Dolly.” I swallowed back a laugh at the shocked look on Abraham’s face. You would think after two days with her in Savannah he’d be a little more used to the fact that she didn’t have anything even close to a filter. “A simple ‘hello’ would have sufficed.”
“Well, I did miss him and he should have come to see us.” She sent me a quick glare and pout before turning back to him, all smiles. “We have a new house. I have my own room. And my own bathroom.”
“That’s pretty cool.” He recovered quicker than I thought he would, bending down and picking her up, settling her on his hip as if she wasn’t a solid sixty plus pounds of excited, wiggly kid. “So cool, in fact, that I thought we needed to celebrate so I brought you pizza.”
“Pizza!” Her shout was loud enough to have both me and Abraham jolting. He lost his grip on her and she slid to the floor, which turned out to be for the best since as soon as her feet touched the tile she was running out of the room yelling that there was pizza for dinner. Abraham and I stared at each for a moment before he said, “If you’re looking for some sort of school activity for her, I would recommend choir. Or drama.”
“She definitely wouldn’t need a microphone.” Crossing the room, I rose up on my toes and took his lips in what was intended to be a short kiss. Of course, the instant I was pressed against him, he wrapped one arm around my waist, sinking his other hand in my hair and deepening the kiss. I drew back enough to murmur, “The kids are going to be down here any second.”
“And?” He kissed the corner of my mouth, scratching my scalp lightly. “I don’t know how to break this to you but they should probably get used to the sight of me kissing you because I plan to do it as often as you’ll let me.”
“Still.” My brain went fuzzy when he flicked his tongue over my earlobe before giving the sensate skin a quick bite. “Uh, still. We should probably not be so... obvious.” I was pretty sure that was the word I was looking for but I wasn’t certain. I’d never met a man who could wipe out all thought processes with so little effort. Actually, if I was being honest, I’d never met any man who could turn my brain off the way Abraham did. Pushing that thought aside, I whispered, “Why did you close the bar?”
“Because I wanted to come see you—and the kids—and there was nobody to run things while I was gone.” He turned us until he was able to trap me between his body and the counter, continuing to massage my scalp as he moved on to kissing my neck. “It’s okay. The bar can stand to be closed for a night. I couldn’t stand not seeing you for another day.”
“Abraham.” Something skittered over my nerves and I started to pull away, freezing when he tightened his grip. Meeting his gaze with mine, I said, “I’m trying. But I need you stop pushing. I’m not too proud to admit when you say things like that, some part of me starts to panic.”
“You ever think maybe it would be good for you to panic? Let go of some of that control you’re so proud of?” He stroked his hand up and down my back, scraping his thumbnail over the vertebrae with each pass. “I get you’ve been on your own for a long time and maybe you don’t think you have anybody to lean on but you do. I’m right here.”
Before I could ask him for how long, I heard the already too familiar sound of footsteps clamoring down the stairs. This time when I tried to pull away he let me and I gave my hair a quick finger comb before Dolly and Conway ran in to the room, Tammy and Kitty following at a more sedate pace. Forcing my lips up in a smile I hoped was more easy than macabre, I said, “Look, our first guest. And he brought us food.”
“Pizza.” Tammy didn’t sigh but her shoulders slumped and her face darkened. “I can’t eat—.”
“Hold on there, kid.” Striding over to the island, Abraham pulled the bottom box out of the stack, spinning it around opening the lid, presenting it to Tammy. “Very, very light sauce and I had Sally cut back on the spices.” He held the box out to her, waiting patiently while she stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Had to listen to her complain about how I’m committing sacrilege and destroying the sanctity of food but she did it.”
“Thank you.” She took the box, continuing to stare at him as if she was actually noticing him for the first time. After a moment, she turned to Kitty and said, “Do you want to share? You were saying earlier you had some heartburn.”
“Oh, that probably would be for the best.” Kitty shot me an apologetic look, as if she should be ashamed over a basic bodily function. I noticed she did that quite often, something which only made me dislike her parents all the more. “If I don’t nip the heartburn in the bud, the baby will spend all night kicking me and I won’t get a wink of sleep.”
“Conway wants cheese tonight.” Dolly looked at him for confirmation, waiting until he nodded before turning to me with her hands on her hips. “Me, too. Please.”
“At least you remembered to say ‘please’.” I scrubbed my hands over my face before turning a slow circle. “And now I have to remember where we put the plates.”
“One of those boxes doesn’t actually have pizza.” Abraham nudged me out of the way, spreading the boxes over the counter and opening each one. “I told Sally you probably weren’t going to be in the mood for dishes so she loaded you up with paper plates and napkins. And there are drinks in the car but I didn’t have enough hands.”
“Oh.” I tucked my tongue in my cheek to keep from asking him how much everything had cost. Something told me it would start an argument I didn’t have the energy to see through to the bitter end. “Tammy, why don’t you and Kitty go get the drinks while we get everything sorted out in here?”
“Sure.” Shooting Abraham another suspicious look, she set her pizza box on the dining table, hooking her arm through Kitty’s and dragging her toward the hall. I stared after her for a moment, wondering what the hell was going on in her convoluted mind, before shaking my head and turning to Dolly, still s
tanding with her hands on her hips. “You said cheese, right?”
THREE HOURS LATER, I collapsed on the sofa next to Abraham, leaning my head back against the cushions with a groan. “I don’t think I’m ever going to move again. I don’t remember it being this much of a headache when I was younger.”
“You probably had less stuff. And no kids.” He reached down and grabbed my ankles, lifting them and swinging me around until my back was against the arm and my feet were in his lap. Running the heel of his hand over one arch, he said, “But nobody died.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning again, this time in ecstasy, when he started massaging the ball of my foot. “I’ll give you a hundred or so years to stop that and then I’m going to get mad.”
“Funny girl.” He smiled but it seemed to not quite meet his eyes but he shifted his gaze to my feet too quickly for me to be sure. He was silent for a few minutes, all his concentration on his work, before he cleared his throat and said, “I know we’re supposed to go eat lunch with my parents tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, I managed to find a dress which was meet-the-parents appropriate.” And that I hadn’t worn to a funeral. I might have spent the majority of the time in Savannah shopping for the kids but I’d taken the time to get a few things for myself. Cotton Creek wasn’t the type of place where you needed a new outfit every time you went to church or to a school function but you needed to have some sort of variety in your wardrobe and mine had been sadly lacking. “It even has a Peter Pan collar, which apparently is a thing again.”
