Best Friends in the Show Me State

by Jessie Gussman

  “Thanks for sharing this. If you don’t have one already up in the feed store, I can take it to work on Monday and put it up.”

  “Oh, if you would, that would be fabulous.” Lynette reached over and grabbed the clipboard that was sitting on the table beside the flyers. She skimmed down through the list and struck a line through feed store.

  The door opened, and Clark’s mother, Emma, walked in. Lynette called a greeting, but Marlowe walked over and hugged her.

  “I was worried about you last night. I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

  Emma, as beautiful as she’d always been, patted Marlowe on the back. “As I was worried about you. But Clark texted me, and I knew he was looking after you. I was sure you’d be fine.”

  Emma had been like a surrogate mother growing up. After all, Marlowe’s mother was a single mom and worked a lot. With Clark and her being so close, Marlowe had spent a lot of time at their house. Then, after the car accident, Emma had truly stepped up. Only Clark had supported her more.

  It was really hard to imagine, looking at Emma, that she had raised five boys.

  It wasn’t hard to imagine, however, that Emma was the mother of one of the hottest stars in Hollywood.

  “Clark said you were taken care of, so I haven’t been around. Trumbull has so much damage, and I’ve been collecting blankets for the folks who’ve been set up at the rec building.” She put her hand on Marlowe’s arm and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you really okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And Kylie?” Emma loved her like a grandchild.

  “She’s perfect. It’s like an adventure to her.”

  “I figured.” Emma leaned back, and her stance became casual again. “Did you hear that Chandler has donated one whole month of his time to the highest bidder at the auction that Lynette has organized?”

  “Yes. Lynette just told me about it.” Marlowe looked over to her. Lynette was talking to Melody, Cowboy Crossing’s only dog groomer.

  “Oh, I know what I wanted to ask you.” Emma turned her full attention to Marlowe. “I heard from Sam down at the grocery store who told him that Sally, Ray’s wife, had heard from Quinton that Dana was in town. Is that true?”

  “Dana is in town,” Marlowe confirmed. She understood why it was so hard to believe—Dana hardly ever visited.

  “How? I mean, the hotels are full. Did she have a reservation?”

  “Dana is staying at Clark’s house.” Marlowe tried to say that without inflection.

  But Emma understood immediately how that would affect Clark. She tapped her toe. “I should offer to have her stay at my house. Only... No, probably not. My maid was one of those whose houses were damaged. She’s brought her whole family and a sister and her family to my home. If I’d known earlier...”

  “No. I’m sure Clark will survive. Your maid and her sister need a place to stay.”

  Emma looked like she was going to say more, but several more people had gathered, and Lynette called everyone over to the table. They’d all moseyed over when the door opened one last time.

  A hesitant head poked around the door before the body followed.

  Marlowe heard several gasps, and the room, which had been buzzing with noise, fell silent.

  Ivory, who some people called out of the side of their mouth the town’s drunk in the feminine form, took a hesitant step inside. Then another. She closed the door behind her.

  This was the first time Marlowe had seen her in the church at all. Once in a while, she saw her around town, always wearing a long trench coat and a scarf and a slouch hat. She came into the feed store some, but she usually ordered her feed to be delivered. If she got any.

  She always paid her bill on time.

  They weren’t at the feed store, and it might not be part of her job right now, but it was part of being a Christian, so she walked across the quiet church basement as the other ladies in the group stared.

  All except for Lynette. As Lynette walked, she stretched her arms out and made a beeline for Ivory, obviously intending to hug her, trench coat and all.

  “Oh, Ivory! I’m so glad you could make it. I was really hoping you could come.” Lynette threw her arms around Ivory, and Marlowe slowed to a stop, feeling a little unneeded, because Lynette was a welcoming committee of one. “I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been giving everyone copies of my auction information. It’s hot off the press.”

  She wiggled the paper in her hand, and Ivory looked at it for a few seconds before hesitantly reaching up and taking it from her.

  Her hands looked dirty, but Marlowe had been around working men long enough to see that what looked like dirt was probably just grease that had not washed off when she’d washed her hands. It took a stronger soap than most people kept in their kitchens to get that kind of grease off hands. Ivory either didn’t know about it, didn’t have any, or didn’t use it.

  It didn’t matter. Not to her. She closed the distance between Ivory and herself and decided it didn’t really matter she’d never spoken to Ivory before in her life; she could hug her too. So she threw her arms around Ivory and said honestly, “I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’ve seen you in the feed store and waited on you once or twice. But I’d like to chat. I’m so glad you’ve come.”

  Ivory nodded. A couple of strands of hair that were so blond they almost looked white waved in the breeze beside her head.

  “And that amazing scent that you’re smelling right now is Lynette’s fantastic cinnamon rolls. I’m pretty sure that when God says manna, he means Lynette’s cinnamon rolls.”

  Lynette’s laugh filled the air. “Oh, you’re too sweet. They’re not that good. But people do seem to like them. Come on over here and sit down. We’re going to work on things that we can do for the auction to make money for the tornado victims. I’m sure you have lots of good ideas, and I’ll introduce you to any of the ladies that you’ve never met.”

  Marlowe trailed along behind as Lynette put her arm around Ivory’s shoulders and guided her to the table where the other ladies looked at her as though Lynette were bringing over a live bee nest.

  Marlowe waited until Ivory had sat down, Lynette on one side, and Marlowe took the other side. None of the ladies there meant to be rude; they were probably just really surprised, and it was certainly understandable to be distrustful of someone that they didn’t normally talk to.

  Marlowe suspected Ivory was shy.

  Sometimes, shy people were labeled odd.

  It also might have something to do with the fact that Ivory was the daughter of the town prostitute, who was now retired. Although she did not attend church, she was considered loosely reformed. Enough to stay out of jail, anyway. Rumor also had it that Ivory’s father was the ex-town drunk. He had died under the park bench several years ago. Homeless.

  But Ivory’s mother laughed at that, because she said she really had no idea who Ivory’s father was.

  The evening wore on, and Marlowe was pretty impressed, yet again, with Lynette’s organization and planning. It was pretty amazing that Lynette was able to homeschool their eight children and still do all the things that she did. She had no idea what her husband would do if anything ever happened to Lynette.

  By ten o’clock, Clark had texted her.

  I’m outside. How much longer is this going to last?

  The meeting was still going strong, but they had pretty much organized the auction, and Marlowe had volunteered for several jobs. She didn’t need to stay.

  I’m coming out. Give me three minutes.

  She said her goodbyes and whispered in Lynette’s ear about the cinnamon rolls, and Lynette told her where they were.

  She got them and slipped out the back door. Clark was parked right beside it, and his truck started as soon as he saw her.

  “How’d it go?” Clark asked as she climbed in.

  “It went pretty darn good. I scored two cinnamon rolls for you, one for Huck, and one for Kylie.” She turned around, looking to smile at Kylie
in the back seat, but Kylie was sound asleep.

  “She must have been pretty tired.” Marlowe kept her voice down and smiled at her sleeping daughter. Such sweet innocence. Man, she hoped she could do a good job of raising her.

  “Yeah, I went to Reid’s house, and she was out running around with his twins, chasing the goats, and trying to ride their dog.”

  “Oh, poor dog. Did he survive?”

  “Everyone was alive when I left. But Kylie didn’t stay awake for more than a mile or two.”

  “How’s Reid doing? Did he survive the storms okay? Did you tell him about our house?”

  “Oh, he already knew about it. Come on. It’s a small town. Soon as the light dawned on it this morning, the first car that went by stopped at the convenience store and told Mabel. By the time we’d sat down for breakfast, the whole town knew.”

  “Okay. You’re right. I have to admit I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Well, that’s not the first, but it is pretty unusual.”

  “I think you just complimented me.”

  “It was a slip. Sorry.”

  She snorted. “And here I was going to give you your cinnamon roll. But never mind. I’ll probably want to eat it myself in the morning.”

  “I’ll tell Miss Lynette you didn’t share.”

  “Miss Lynette will totally understand why I didn’t share. Trust me, she’s a woman, she’s on my side.”

  “No. All I have to do is tell her I’ll take her older boys for the summer, and she’ll be on my side.” His dimple flashed as he put the pickup in gear and pulled away from the church. “She’d love to see her boys working on the farm.”

  “You’re probably right about that. Here.” Marlowe held out the cinnamon roll.

  Clark looked both ways before he pulled onto the highway, then he grabbed the roll from her.

  They’d handed things to each other a million times before. All their lives. But this time when their fingers brushed, it was like there was a small explosion in the cab of the truck. At least for Marlowe.

  Thankful it was dark, she snapped her hand away so quickly Clark almost dropped the cinnamon roll. That was awkward. She felt like she needed to apologize. But that would only bring attention to the fact that she’d acted weirdly, for absolutely zero reason, except all of a sudden she felt sparks and explosions when she touched her best friend.

  She said the first thing that came to her head. “What do you think the chances are that Dana and Cody will be in bed when we get home?”

  “Hopefully a hundred percent,” Clark answered, and she believed that was truly what he wanted, but his voice lacked its normal humor.

  She wasn’t sure if it was because of her odd behavior or because of him still carrying a torch for his ex, even though he claimed he didn’t. It still upset him somehow to talk about her, and Marlowe couldn’t help but believe it was because there was still something there for him. As much as he denied it.

  “Oh, Jill texted me, and she wanted to have the kids next weekend. Both of them. I told her I thought that was okay.”

  Jill was Dana and Alonzo’s mother. Which made her the grandmother of Huck and step-grandmother to Kylie, since Alonzo wasn’t Kylie’s biological father. Elanor had never told Marlowe all the details, but she’d been pregnant with Kylie when she’d married Alonzo, who’d known the baby wasn’t his, yet loved Elanor and married her anyway.

  Jill lived about fifty miles north of them and didn’t see the kids much, but normally took them both for a weekend every few months.

  “Yes, that’s fine. It will probably work out for the best too, since maybe they’ll be working on my house by then.”

  “Maybe. I think I heard somewhere they were putting priority on houses, versus garages and other outbuildings. Which makes sense.”

  “Yes. It does. But as long as I’m not being too much of a pain for you, I’d like to see the people who are in shelters be taken care of first.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. She hadn’t realized until then how much she was enjoying being even closer to Clark. Being with him was comfortable, yet exciting at the same time, especially with the new feelings that she’d been dealing with since the tornado.

  “Of course. And you’re not the slightest bit of a pain. You cooked breakfast.”

  “Well, I know it hasn’t been easy for you since Dana’s there too.”

  “It’s all Dana. Nothing to do with you.”

  She believed that. He was probably just being honest.

  She tried to look on the bright side. “Now we have something to look forward to. Not only should Dana be gone by next weekend, but the kids are going to get to spend a fun weekend with Jill. They always love it at her house.”

  “Yeah. That’s nice. Jill and Dana couldn’t be any more different from each other. It definitely eases my mind to let Huck go, when I know that he’s gonna enjoy himself.”

  “Exactly.”

  Marlowe ran a finger down the seam of her skirt, searching for a topic that would be neutral. She still felt a little off-kilter with Clark, and the conversation just felt a little stilted.

  “Have you figured out why Dana wants Huck?”

  “No. But I have a feeling it has something to do with money or possibly a part she wants to play. I suppose it’s cynical of me to say, but I can’t see where she’s changed at all.”

  “I suppose someone might call that cynical. I call it reality.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  Chapter 11

  Thankfully, Dana left Monday morning.

  Unfortunately, she wanted to come back the next weekend. When Clark explained to her that Jill was taking Huck for that weekend, she threw a bit of a fit.

  “I think you set that up just so that I wouldn’t get to see him next weekend.” Her eyes were narrowed, and she glared at him across the counter.

  He hated always feeling like he was on the defensive, and for goodness’ sake, it was her mother. Dana didn’t get along with Jill, though. “How was I supposed to know that you were thinking about coming back next weekend to see him?” He gritted his jaw and tried to pull a deep breath in and blow it out before he said any more. “You haven’t seen him in over a year. And now all of a sudden, I was somehow supposed to know you want to come and visit two weekends in a row? If you would tell me, I would make sure that he was here. But Jill had already set up to have them.”

  “You’re so unreasonable. It is impossible to talk to you. The fact of the matter is I am his mother, and I should take precedence over anyone else. Cancel my mother’s plans, and have him here next weekend.”

  “It’s your mother. Go to her house and see him.” Clark didn’t really want to suggest that. He wasn’t completely comfortable with the thought of Dana seeing them at Jill’s house. Dana was just the kind of person who would put Huck in the car and disappear with him.

  Eventually the law would come after her and find her, but Clark didn’t want to put Huck through that. Man, he wished he hadn’t screwed up so bad for his son. Why hadn’t he been smarter when he’d been thinking about marriage?

  “Well, I just might do that.”

  Clark turned to the refrigerator and opened the door, not even remembering what he wanted to begin with. Just frustrated. He didn’t really think Dana would go. The two of them didn’t get along very well. What a mess.

  It wasn’t long after that Dana drove away, giving up on getting Huck, and leaving Clark with a profound sense of relief.

  The rest of the week went well for him. They were ahead on the corn planting by Friday, and he and Marlowe had settled into a routine. The only hiccup being Tuesday evening when Marlowe went to use the washing machine and had to move his clothes from the washer to the dryer.

  “You put your socks and your jeans in the same load of clothes, along with Huck’s white T-shirt and his red sweatshirt. Who does that?”

  She’d waited to say anything until after they put the kids in bed at least. Neither one of them had mentioned the idea
of them getting married. He hadn’t allowed his brain to go there, and he assumed she hadn’t either. Although he was completely certain that if it were something that was necessary for him to do to keep custody of Huck, Marlowe would do it in a heartbeat. He just didn’t want to take advantage of her in that way.

  He had a feeling he’d do it for Huck, if it came right down to it, though.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is. All the clothes got clean, right?” He stood with one hand holding onto his neck and one hand gripping the basket that he’d been about to set on the counter by the washer.

  “It’s not about getting them clean as much as it’s about having them fade and run into each other.”

  “They kind of have to run into each other in the washer, don’t they?” He managed to keep his lips from twitching.

  “You’re not even funny. The colors run, and then you don’t have white socks anymore, you have gray or pink because of the red sweatshirt, and everything just gets yucky. Didn’t you ever learn how to wash clothes?”

  “I sure did. Right here’s a clean load. Washing clothes is supposed to get them clean. You want to get all picky about it, go right ahead, but you’re just making more work for yourself.”

  She sighed and shook her head and grabbed her ears like she wanted to pull them off.

  “That’s new.”

  “What?” Her head snapped up, and she looked around.

  “You grabbing your ears. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

  “That’s because I’ve never been quite this frustrated before.” They both knew that was a major exaggeration. For the most part. “How can you think that’s okay?”

  “I’m not dropping an atomic bomb on anybody. I’m not sending anyone to hell. This is not a moral dilemma. This is a personal preference. I prefer ease of laundry over...whatever.” He waved his arm in the air, searching for a word. What English word was there that meant someone was making way more work for themselves than they needed to? “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. There. It’s ridiculous. You can have the laundry done in one load, or you can do three loads and have it take all day. To me, that’s a no-brainer.”