Stubborn as a Mule

by Sawyer Bennett

  “So, you got it annulled?” she asks curiously.

  “We didn’t get an annulment,” I tell her quietly. “We decided to give this a go.”

  “Oh,” she says softly, and even louder as the implication her son just got married hits her. “Oh.”

  “Mama,” I say as I look out the window, past the buildings to the Mojave Desert. “I’m pretty damn sure I’m falling in love with her. Or maybe I’m there. I don’t know, but I know this is different and she’s the one. There is no doubt we’re taking a big leap here and faith is the only thing leading us at this point. But I feel good about it.”

  “Honey… Lowe,” she says tenderly, immediately accepting me at face value that I might not know what I’m doing, but at least I’m following my heart, which isn’t a bad thing. “You’ve always been the one I never feared for when it came to love. I knew you’d find the deepest kind one day because you’re the one who got all the heart in this family. If you tell me she’s the one, then she’s the one.”

  “Thanks, Mama,” I say, relieved that the one person in the world whose opinion would truly matter on this has just reassured me. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, my baby boy.”

  “Grown man here,” I remind her with a grin only I can see, but I know she can hear.

  She laughs in return and murmurs, “I’m going to go tell your dad the news. He just headed out to the barn.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re having another wedding though,” she warns. “I want pictures. And cake. A beautiful embroidered handkerchief I can cry into.”

  “Okay, Mama.”

  “Not joking about this, Lowe. You make sure Mely understands,” she says, feeling the need to press her position.

  “Okay. I’ll see you when we get back tomorrow, and we can talk all about it.”

  “You going to move into Mainer House?” my mom asks.

  “Mama… I have no clue about anything other than I have a wife. When I know, you’ll know.”

  “Too soon to talk about grandbabies, I’m guessin’?”

  “Goodbye, Mama,” I say without even giving into that crazy talk right now.

  She’s still laughing when I hang up the phone.

  Babies are definitely not on the agenda anytime soon.

  But the practicing of making babies will be a daily thing as far as I’m concerned.

  The Gossip Mill

  at Central Cafe

  by Floyd Wilkie

  “I’m telling you, this bass has my pole near bent in half,” Billy Crump tells me as we eat our breakfast. “And I’m struggling not to give it any slack. And then this beast gets near the surface, does a slow roll over onto his belly, and that’s when I realized he had to be close to ten pounds or so. And then that darn line just broke.”

  I chuckle as I break a biscuit apart to put some jam on it. Billy’s fishing tales are always pretty tall.

  “You see any movement out of Lowe’s cabin?” a female voice says, and I immediately recognize it as Lynette Carnes poking her nosy nose in. I turn and look over my shoulder to see her and Sarah sitting at a table right behind us.

  Billy turns on his stool, takes his hat off, and scratches at the back of his head before putting it back on. “Not that I recall. But then again, I expect they’d be holed up inside seeing as how they’re technically on their honeymoon.”

  Lynette doesn’t like that answer as her eyes go blisterin’ hot. But why she feels affronted is beyond me. I think it’s cool Lowe came back from Vegas married to Mely. I was pretty sure that was going to happen one day down the road, and if it happened sooner, that was awesome too. They’ve been back from Vegas for two days now, and no one’s seen hide nor hair of them.

  But today’s a new workweek and I saw his truck in front of Millie’s, so I know the official honeymoon is probably over.

  “That sure happened fast, didn’t it?” Muriel comments from the other side of the counter, and I turn to look at her. “Seems like just yesterday they were kissing secretly even as they were fighting.”

  “What?” Lynette icily. “What do you mean by that?”

  Muriel nods her head at me. “Floyd told me. Was like only a day or two after the judge ordered him to work on her house, and Floyd caught them kissing late at night. With her pajamas on, no less.”

  “Sounds like Lowe was already starting to make a play,” Lynette asserts staunchly. “Maybe it was on his agenda to get her all softened up early.”

  “Whoa, I don’t think—” I say, but then I’m cut off by Billy.

  “Next night, she made a really expensive meal for him. Maybe she was the one playing Lowe.”

  “Why would she?” Muriel tosses out. “He doesn’t have anything she wants. She wanted the house and she got it. No, if anyone was playing anyone at that point, it was Lowe playing her. That house was everything to that boy.”

  “They have a real connection,” I blurt out, needing to defend Lowe and Mely, mostly because some of my original gossip started all of this.

  “You say that now, Floyd,” Lynette says calmly. “But you were just in here a week ago today agreeing with me that it was fortuitous that Lowe was courting a woman who now owned the house he wanted.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And Muriel was here and we all agreed,” Lynette continues. “If Lowe wanted that house back, the best way to go about doing it was to marry that woman, then divorce her. We all know she’d get home cooked by Judge Bowe and he’d give him the house in the divorce settlement.”

  “It’s all hypothesis,” I mutter as I turn back to my biscuit, wanting out of this conversation like right now.

  “It’s a sure bet,” Billy says staunchly. “Judge Bowe might be a hard ass, but he’s always going to look out after his own.”

  “I bet that’s exactly what Lowe is doing,” Lynette says, and Billy bobs his head up and down in agreement. I turn to look at her, wondering how this is really any of her business. “There’s no other explanation. You don’t just up and marry someone you’ve only known for three weeks. And you certainly don’t do it in Vegas. I bet he liquored her up good and got her to sign that marriage paper before she even knew what was happening.”

  Okay, now this just needs to stop. It’s absurd and as protector of this town, I have a duty—

  My heart stops a little when I glimpse a woman past Lynette’s shoulder at the back of the restaurant, one I hadn’t noticed before and mainly because she’d been reading the paper when I’d walked in and couldn’t see who it was.

  But I see who it is now.

  Over the edge of the paper, she stares at Lynette with wide, unblinking eyes.

  Lynette notices I’ve checked out of the conversation and turns in her chair to see what I’m looking at. She only glances at Mely Rothschild for a second before turning back to me and giving a gloating smile.

  All conversation seems to have stopped in Central Cafe. Muriel, Billy, Sarah, and I all stare at Mely, who just looks blankly back at us.

  Then she lays the newspaper on the table, turning to her purse. She pulls some money out and quietly stands from the table. Dropping the money down, she looks to Muriel. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks for the fabulous breakfast. I’m sure this will cover it and a tip for the waitress who served me earlier.”

  “Mely,” I say as she starts to walk toward the door.

  She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t falter in her stride.

  Shoulders squared, head held high, she walks out and doesn’t give any of us a second glance.

  Crap, I’m going to have to fix that with her later. I need to make sure she knows I don’t think those things about her and Lowe.

  And surely she realizes it’s just bored people gossiping about the easiest thing to gossip about. She’s new and interesting to this town. It’s just natural.

  Not done with any ill intent.

  Well, except Lynette.

  I have a feeling she knew Mely was sitting there the entire time, and that
’s just wrong.

  Turning back to my breakfast, I decide I’ll finish it and head over to the hardware store to open. Then I might meander over to Mainer House after work and make my apologies.

  CHAPTER 24

  Melinda

  I put my key in the lock of my apartment door and nearly yelp when it’s pulled open. Morri stands there.

  “There you are,” he positively coos at me and opens his arms up wide. I manage to keep a stiff upper lip as I step into them, dropping my purse to the floor and leaving my rolling case in the hallway. “When you called me a few hours ago and told me you were coming back permanently, I almost had a heart attack. And Lowe’s been calling and texting me, but I haven’t responded—”

  “Let me pee, Morri,” I say quietly as I pull back. “If you can get my suitcase in and pour some wine, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Of course, Mely baby,” he says, beside himself.

  With a sigh, I trudge down my very short hall in my very small SoHo apartment that still has an extravagant rent because of its location, and I head into the bathroom. I only sneak a quick peek at my appearance in the mirror, and I know I look wretched. I’m still sporting that stunned look of betrayal, and it hasn’t even morphed to one of sadness or anger yet.

  I wonder when that will happen.

  All I know is when I walked out of Central Cafe after hearing my love life so casually discussed, and realized there was a very real theory going around town that I was being used, I almost felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. There was a weird buzzing in my ears and I swear I thought at one point I was going to pass out. And through it all, as I listened to their coarse hypotheses, deep down I refused to believe it.

  That was, until they pointed out that I foolishly got married after knowing someone for three weeks, after we got drunk and he suggested stopping in that wedding chapel.

  He is the one who suggested it.

  Lowe is the one who first brought it up when we were on that ride. Nothing scarier is what he said.

  And then we just sort of “stumbled” into one? While buzzed?

  And Lowe’s the one who thought it would be hilarious if we did it?

  He’s the one who stated if it was a mistake, we could get it annulled.

  And then he’s the one who charmed me with what was inside his pants and took away any possibility of an annulment.

  Leaning back, I look into the mirror again, seeing a veil of red flushing my face.

  Okay… now I’m starting to get pissed.

  But I still have to pee.

  I do my business and wash my hands. When I come back out into the living room, Morri has two large glasses of wine ready and the bottle on my coffee table.

  Handing one to me, he says, “Here you go.”

  I take the glass and chug it down without even stopping for a breath. As my throat works double time to suck the stuff down, Morri gasps at my audacity to do such a thing to a very nice wine.

  When I suck the last drop out, I grab the bottle and pour another.

  But this time, I sit on the couch with complete decorum and nod my head to the other end for Morri to do the same.

  When he’s settled, he asks, “What happened?”

  I lift my glass, take a huge swallow, and hiss slightly as the alcohol hits me a little. “Well, I was in Central Cafe eating breakfast as Lowe went to work really early.”

  “I still can’t believe you two got married,” Morri says dreamily. I glare at him and he straightens his spine, looking at me with rapt attention. “Sorry.”

  “It appears the consensus in town is that Lowe married me to get his hands on Mainer House,” I mutter, and then bite down into my cheek so dratted tears don’t start forming.

  Morri crosses one leg over the other and leans toward me with earnest attention. “Hmm. What did Lowe say to that?”

  My body jolts as I blink at Morri. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, what did Lowe say? Was he incensed? Did he understand why that would cause you to be upset?”

  My eyebrows furrow. “He didn’t say anything.”

  “Nothing?” Morri asks in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “I mean he didn’t say anything because I didn’t tell him about this,” I snap at Morri, angry he could think I’d even go to Lowe with that.

  “I’m confused,” Morri says slowly, walking a fine line with me. “He’s your husband and—”

  “He’s not my husband,” I growl at my bestie, and his lips press tightly shut. “He wanted Mainer House. I had it. He led me on. Buttered me up. Got me drunk and then acted like it was a silly game to get married. Then he consummated the marriage in such stellar fashion I was sure this was serendipity. That I’d found my soul mate. God, I was so stupid.”

  I take another huge swallow of the wine.

  “No,” Morri says adamantly. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “You’re taking his side?” I ask in disbelief.

  “I am if you didn’t even talk to him about this,” Morri returns heatedly. “Please don’t tell me, Mely, that you just up and left without telling him anything.”

  “I left him a note,” I mutter.

  “Oh, good goddess,” Morri scolds me. “You’re a child.”

  “How dare you judge me—”

  “How dare you judge Lowe like that,” Morri yells, and I’m completely taken aback by how furious he is.

  “I don’t understand you,” I tell Morri quietly, hoping to bring down his anger level. “Why are you just dismissing my feelings like this?”

  “Why are you just automatically assuming Lowe had this underlying motive? That he’s using you? That he’s nefarious and mean and underhanded? Because if you believe this about him, then you believe all those things about him, and I’m telling you… you’re wrong.”

  A slimy feeling of guilt tinged with regret starts to seep into me. If Morri is right, then I’m a fool. But I’m also still bristling with anger and resentment, not only at Lowe, but at a town that would dare to even discuss me in such a hurtful way. I realize no matter what the real story is, the only truth I know is that isn’t my way of life. I can’t understand it. I certainly can’t adapt to it. I was more of a fool than anything to think I could have a life there the way my grandmother did.

  That something magical and life changing would happen to me.

  Tipping my glass up, I finish the rest of my wine and stand from the couch. I don’t even look at Morri, but just softly tell him. “I’m really tired and going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you later. Lock the door behind you if you don’t mind.”

  “Mely,” Morri says, and now I hear the contrition in his voice. But I don’t want to hear it. I probably made a mistake in leaving without giving Lowe a chance to defend himself.

  I accept that.

  But I’m done thinking about this for right now. My life just got upended, and I’ll go ahead and admit it for the first time.

  I feel like my heart has been shredded. The only other time I’ve felt this way was when my grandmother died. I realize… I’m not angry.

  I’m grieving.

  ♦

  The sun coming in my window hits me in the face and I wince as I sit up in bed. Normally I shut the blinds before going to sleep, but that was the last thing on my mind last night.

  “Morri,” I call out as I see it’s just half past ten in the morning from my bedside clock.

  He doesn’t respond. By the general stillness of the apartment, I know he must have left to go back home last night.

  Rolling out of bed, I grab my phone from the nightstand and pad into the kitchen. I don’t bother turning it on until I get my first cup of coffee doctored and take a few sips.

  Then I look to see the damage that’s left behind.

  First, my voice messages. I’m surprised to only see three since I left Whynot yesterday morning. I’d turned my phone off intentionally as I didn’t know when Lowe would find the note I’d left on the counte
r of Mainer House, but I knew he’d call me and I didn’t have the guts to talk to him.

  I’m guessing because there was a small part of me deep down that knew he’d never do something like that, but I was letting my anger at the people in Central Cafe drive me, most especially Lynette Carnes. When she looked at me after dropping the bombshell about how they’d discussed Lowe would get the house in a divorce, she looked straight at me and smiled like a cat and I was the canary.

  My stomach churns as I listen to the first voice mail from Lowe.

  What in the hell, Mely? he shouted into the phone. I can’t find you today, was worried something bad had happened to you, and I find a note on the counter telling me it’s over? Just what in the hell, woman?

  Oh, God. In hindsight, that note was a bad idea.

  It had been short.

  Too short.

  Lowe,

  I was in Central Cafe today and heard small-town gossip at its finest. It appears everyone agrees that you’ve been playing me. The Vegas marriage was genius. I didn’t realize you’d stoop to marrying me and then divorcing me to get Mainer House back.

  I didn’t realize it meant just that much to you.

  Tell you what… you can have the house.

  I’ll keep my dignity.

  Melinda

  Ugh, that was a petty, spiteful note that I’m pretty sure in the clear light of today wasn’t necessary at all.

  Lowe’s voice continues, although it drops an octave. I hope you know that is not the reason I married you, and while I haven’t said it aloud yet, you must know I love you, Mely. For the love of all that’s holy, I can’t believe you’d be that foolish as to let those people get in your head like that. Just… call me, okay?

  I hit delete as I have no desire to ever hear that again.

  I shore up but give a preemptory wince when I hear the tone of Lowe’s voice on the second voice mail. Okay, now I’m pissed. You don’t even have the common courtesy to call me back or respond to my texts. I haven’t even gotten to his texts yet, and I’m not sure I ever want to. Thank God Morri told me you made it safely to New York. Please call me as soon as you get this.