I study his serious face. God, it’s like this trust issue keeps jumpingup like a carp and slapping me in the face. Even Budge seems to be gettingit. Why can’t I?
“Forget it.” Budge jerks a hard left with the wheel. “It was stupid.”
I let his words hang there for a moment before answering. “No. It’s not.” I take a cleansing breath and pray for boost of faith. A Red Bull of belief. “If you say you have a peace about it, then that’s that. God has obviously spoken to you.” Why can’t the Big Guy say these things to me? “Thanks for telling me.” A trust lesson from Budge Afro Finley. What is the world coming to?
He cranks up the radio, and we sing—or yell—the rest of the way to church.
I push open the heavy door of the car and set my foot onto the parking lot. “Oh, and Budge?”
“Yeah?” He grabs his Bible from the back.
“You know you’d, like, donate a kidney if I needed one.”
“You’re right. I would.”
I smile in triumph.
“But only if I got a big, fat check.”
Wanting a little distance from the frosty exhaust between Mom and Jake, I find Lindy and Matt and sit beside them. Matt’s in the middle of a story that has my friend howling with laughter. They don’t even stop to say hi to me. Just keep on talking. Keep on laughing.
“This seat taken?”
I look up to find Luke. He obviously got his hair cut after school, as it doesn’t curl around his neck, but stands up in a deceptively messy pattern. Nothing accidentally messy about this boy.
“What are you doing here?”
He settles in beside me, his arm sliding against mine on the seat rest. “I didn’t feel like driving all the way out to my church tonight. With all that’s been going on, I’m kind of tired.”
I narrow my eyes and scrutinize every twitch of his face. “You’re checking up on me, aren’t you?” Luke’s church isn’t thatfar out of town.
“Can a guy not visit a church without there being an ulterior motive?”
I point right at his button-down oxford. “Not you.” But being next to him does give me some comfort. Even though I put the carnival poster in my dash Monday night, Alfredo hasn’t contacted me yet. I’m still waiting. And stressing.
He settles his Bible in his lap and focuses toward the front. “Matt and Lindy seem to be getting along well.”
“Don’t change the subject.” But I glance to my left. “Yeah, they are. I’m glad they didn’t let their friendship get too off track.” I turn back. “Romance can do that.”
His eyes sear into mine. “Right. Good thing they played it safe and didn’t end up dating.” He looks over my head. “Clearly they got just what they wanted.”
Bo Blades walks in and goes immediately to Lindy. Matt closes his mouth on the rest of his story as Bo hugs his girlfriend.
“Would you mind scooting down a seat?” Bo asks a blank-faced Matt.
“Here.” I jump up. “We will.” I give Lindy an encouraging grin. “No problem.” But her happy face has disappeared. In its place is a sham of a smile that barely lifts her lips.
“I wanted to surprise you.” Bo leans down and kisses Lindy’s cheek. “I thought we could hang out after church.”
“Yeah. That’d be great.”
“There’s a picnic packed for us in my truck. I brought all your favorite food—even homemade chocolate chip cookies.”
She lets him take her hand. “Those are my favorites. You’re so thoughtful to do that.”
“I guess Matt never had a chance,” Luke whispers. “Bo’s just everything Lindy wants.”
I shoot him a look that could melt ice cream. “You have some-thing to say?”
“Just seems that the only one happy over there by you is Bo.”
I refuse to humor him by looking at Matt and Lindy. But honestly, I don’t need to. I know the gloom I’m going to find. Isn’t there anyone I know who’s content these days?
Luke yawns beside me. “I’ve always found playing it safe to be such a bore.”
“Welcome!” the pastor says, taking the mic. “Tonight I want to talk about Noah and the ark. Ask yourself this: would you have had the faith to get on that boat? Or would you have gone down the drain like everyone else?”
Oh, come on. Could we not have a more comfortable topic? Like tithing? . . . Or adultery?
After church, the family gathers together at the Dairy Barn. I skip dinner and go straight for a double fudge sundae.
“Watched you on TV last Sunday night, Jake.” I spear a banana and swirl it in some chocolate. “I like the new jazzed-up pirate costume.”
“Thanks.” Jake rests his arm around my mom’s chair. “It’s a little hard to wrestle with the eye patch, but it’s specially created so I can actually see out of it.”
“Hey, there’s Officer Mark!” Robbie waves toward the door, a french fry dangling out his mouth. “Over here!”
Oh, poop. I slink down in my seat and keep my eyes locked on my dessert.
“Jake, good to see you.” The blue of Mark’s uniform matches the navy of the dated restaurant curtains. “Jillian, I miss talking to you over coffee at Sugar’s. And it’s just not the same without you and Dolly.”
“I’m really busy with the kids.” Mom’s smile is as fake as the blonde streaks in her hair. “But I get lonesome for the diner crowd sometimes.”
Probably gets more lonesome for her husband. And someone to talk to who’s old enough to vote.
“Dolly seems to really be taking to that Fritz girl. I see them in town all the time.” Mark steals a fry from Robbie’s plate, sending my stepbrother into giggles.
“Mickey too,” Jake says. “Any time I talk to him, that dominates the conversation. He loves that girl.”
“It’s a blessing Cherry came along.” Mom hands Robbie an ignored chicken nugget from his plate. “It’s drawn Mickey and Dolly together like nothing else could have. They go to church together, they eat dinner together, they go to the park. They’ve become a very tight family.” I hear the teaspoon of jealousy mixed in her voice.
“Is that Bella over there?”
I don’t miss Mark’s sarcastic tone, so I also don’t bother to look up.
“Bella, why are you hiding behind a menu?” Mom asks.
“Um . . .” Slowly I lower it. “I don’t think this sundae is going to be nearly enough. Just checking out the milk shake menu.”
Mark ambles toward my seat. “Has Bella told you about the latest happenings at the carnival?” A table of blank faces stare back at the officer. “That’s funny. I asked her to make sure you guys were in the loop since some dangerousincidents have transpired.”
Mom blanches. “Dangerous? What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing.” Mark’s hand rests near my dish, and I give it a light jab with my fork. “Truly nothing.”
“Dolly might’ve mentioned some weird stuff going on,” Mother says. “But I didn’t think it involved you.”
“Oh, it always involves Bella Kirkwood.” Mark smiles down at me. “Am I right?”
All I want is some peace and privacy to meddle into other people’s business.
“Why don’t you fill us in?” Jake levels me with a stare used to take down giants. “I seem to have missed something while I’ve been gone.” He glances at Mom. “Maybe too much.”
“Our little private eye here has been investigating a murder at the Fritz carnival.”
My mom gasps. “I thought that magician did it.”
“I don’t think he did.” I catch myself. “But I’m not investigating it really. I’m just, you know, hanging out and absorbing the atmosphere of the place. I might’ve accidentallyrun into a few suspicious facts.”
“She might’ve run into a set of lights that fell from the sky too.”
“Do you mind?” I hiss at Officer Mark.
“You said that was an accident. So this is why you insisted on working there.” Mom shakes her head, and I can almos
t see the steam coming out her ears. “What else?”
“Um, I think Mark has to go now. Yep, Lars is yelling at you from the counter. Your order’s—”
“Your daughter went to her car last week and found Alfredo, the accused murderer, in her backseat.”
“Good heavens.” Mom shoves her plate away. “I think I’m going to be ill. Howcould you not tell us?”
Jake stares down his friend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Bella assured me she would be speaking with you about it.” He grins down at me. “I should’ve known. Nancy Drew here kind of likes to work solo.”
Mark gives my parents the unabridged version of a story I’d title “Reasons Bella Kirkwood Will Be Grounded ’Til She’s Fifty.”
“That’s it.” Mom slams her napkin down on the table. “I’ve been so busy with everything that I haven’t kept a good eye on you kids. Is there anything elseI need to know?” Her eyes linger on Budge and Robbie.
Robbie bows his head. “I ate some glue last week. And when the teacher sent a note home . . . I ate that too.”
Budge’s cheeks dimple in a grin. “Guess that makes me the angel of the family.”
“You are not returning to work there, Bella,” Jake says.
Mom swoops her head toward her husband. “Don’t tell her what to do. You’ve been a parent for five minutes this month. I’lltell her how it’s gonna be.” Mom clears her throat and straightens her posture. “Bella . . . you will not be returning to work there.”
“What? I have to! You don’t understand.”
“I know all I need to know,” Mom says. “And my decision is final.”
“When will she ever learn?” Budge clucks his tongue. “Maybe you should send her to military school.”
And maybe I should shove this banana up your nose. “Cherry’s life could be in danger. And I am the perfect person to have on the inside.”
“Apparently your life is in danger. And I will not even debate this with you.” Mom shoves another nugget toward Robbie’s hand. “We’ll discuss it at home.”
“Y’all have a lovely evening.” Officer Mark has the audacity to wink at me as he walks away.
Mom steeples her fingers and leans on her hands. “Anything else I need to hear, Bella?”
I think about the threatening letter Frank brought me. “Uh . . .”
“Spill it,” she barks.
“I guess it’s time you finally knew . . .” I suck in a breath and just let the truth pour out. “Budge watches Hannah Montana.”
chapter thirty-two
I’ve sat behind that potted tree for weeks, Bella. I’m done. I’m through.”
I stir the whipped cream in my mocha and look across the table at Hunter on the day before my father’s wedding. The hustle and bustle of Manhattan carries on outside the Starbucks window as parts of my life grind to a shattering halt.
“The wedding is tomorrow afternoon. Just accept it and let it go. This fixation isn’t good for you.”
Beside me Ruthie blows bubbles with her straw. “You can’t second-guess her hunches. They’re always right.” She nods at me with confidence. “The sidekick guidebook says I’m to defend you in the face of doubters.”
“Thanks.” I guess. “Hunter . . . okay, fine. It’s over. You’re right, I need to move past this and accept the fact that my dad is marrying someone else, and I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for all the weird stuff I’ve witnessed.”
Hunter shakes his head, his expression grim. “That was too easy. You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m already grounded for eternity in one time zone.” I brush my finger over a wrinkle on the napkin. “I can be mature about this.”
Hunter snorts. “Oh, this is gonna be bad.”
On Saturday morning, I awaken with morning breath, a hankering for Luisa’s waffles, and a renewed determination to nuke this wedding.
“Now don’t forget.” My dad takes a snicker-doodle out of the cookie jar. “I need you dressed and at the church by noon.” He picks his TAG Heuer watch off the kitchen counter. “You slept late enough.”
“I wanted to be refreshed for your big day.” I bat my eyes and draw my big fluffy robe tighter. “Didn’t want to have bags for the pictures, you know.”
“You missed the bridesmaids’ breakfast for Christina.”
“I couldn’t leave Ruthie. She’d feel left out.” I elbow my friend.
“Yeah,” she sputters into her chocolate milk. “I’m allergic to, um, quiche. I break out in a rash. Makes my butt itch.”
Dad looks to me, but I only shrug. “Bella, don’t let me down, okay?” After a pause, he walks to me, bends down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I do love you. You know that, right?”
I stare into eyes just like mine. “I’m working on it.”
He acts as if he’s going to say more, but straightens instead. “I have to go. I have some last-minute details to take care of, then I’m getting dressed at the church. Oh, and Bella, you and Ruthie will ride home with your grandparents. They’ll stay here with you and Marisol tonight.”
“Luisa will be enough of a chaperone for us.” Seriously, on top of everything else, I cannot take twenty-four hours with my grand-mother. She makes pit bulls look like lapdogs.
“No deal. Luisa’s leaving after the ceremony to go on a church retreat.”
“Where to?”
He slings his tux bag over his shoulder. “Caesars Palace. Vegas.”
I watch him walk out of the kitchen and listen for the click of the front door. “Let’s go.”
Ruthie and I slide out of our robes, revealing our clothes for the wedding. I glance at my friend’s skintight leather pants.
“What? I wanted to match your dress.”
“Can you even breathe in those things?”
Ruthie frowns at her pants. “I guess it’s a good thing I left the matching bedazzled bustier at home.”
I grab my purse from its hiding place in the cabinet. Locating my phone, I call a cab. “Let’s go wait on the front steps.”
We get to the foyer, my hand on the door, when Luisa stops me. “Wait a minute.”
I pivot and plaster innocence all over my face. “Yes?”
“The wedding isn’t for another hour and a half. Where are you going?”
“We’re off to save the world,” Ruthie says.
Luisa looks to me for confirmation. I finally nod.
“Okay, then.” She rolls her dark eyes at my dress. “But don’t wrinkle that thing. I do windows, but I do notdo feathers.” She waddles away, muttering under her breath in Spanish.
When the yellow cab pulls up to the sidewalk, we rush inside. “Broadway Heights hotel. And there’s a twenty-dollar tip in there if you can get us there in twenty minutes.”
I was handing over a crisp Andrew Jackson in fifteen.
“So what’s the plan?” Ruthie asks as we step inside the lobby of the hotel.
I stand in the middle of the vast space and just look around. I have no idea what I’m doing. Reaching into my purse, I feel around until my fingers touch my camera, my mace, and my Orbitz gum. All potential tools for detonating a wedding.
Ruthie taps her spiky boot. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”
I consider this. “Yes.”
“Oh, man. You don’t.” She covers her eyes with her hand. “The book warned me of times likes these. When all your superpowers would go to your head.”
I make a mental note to introduce this book to a blowtorch. “We’ll figure it out when we get up to Mercedes’ room. I just need to get in there so I can talk to her.”
“And what are you going to say?”
“Would you quit asking these questions?” These questions that make . . . sense!
We ride the elevator to the eighth floor in silence. I chew on a glossy nail.
“You’re kinda molting.” Ruthie points toward some stray feathers on the floor.
“I don’t
have time to worry about this stinkin’ dress right now.” I tug on a plumey strap and try to hold it in place. “We need to get in, force the truth out of her, and get out in time to stop the biggest disaster of my dad’s life.” Otherwise it will be the biggest disaster of mine.
“I still think we could’ve gone with my idea to hang Marisol up by her toes until she hurled up the truth.”
I did give that one some serious consideration. But so far my questioning of that kid has gotten me nowhere. She’s a locked box.
The elevator dings and comes to a whooshing stop. My breakfast jumps on my stomach like a trampoline.
“We could pull the fire alarm.” Ruthie steps out and scans the walls of the hallway. “Pull it, and she’ll come running. You can tackle her and—”
“Get arrested?” I guess that would give me a great excuse for missing the wedding. “I can’t think.” I’m so stressed! God, I know I’vegot some dubious behavior going on here, but I checked my Bible lastnight. And there’s nothing in there about causing a big stir to drive out amysterious lady in hopes of stopping your father’s nuptials. For a second I thought I had found something in that chapter on animal sacrifices . . . but no.
“I’ll be back.” Ruthie turns back toward the glass elevator.
“Wait!” I lower my voice. “Where are you going?”
“Just hang onto your feathers. I’ll be right back.”
This could be bad. Very bad. “Nothing illegal. And keep your clothes on!” I don’t know why I needed to add that. But this is Ruthie. Anything is possible.
As she disappears behind the gold double doors, I walk down the hall and find the potted tree Hunter must’ve spent a good deal of time with. Easing down in the tight dress, I park it on the floor. And wait. And wait.
This must’ve been what Hunter felt like. No wonder he was so whiny. Ten minutes and my butt’s already numb.
In the distance I hear the elevator ting again. “Bella?” comes a stage whisper. “Bella!”
I jump up, rub my tush and peek my head around the corner of the hall. Sighing with relief, I see Ruthie. And then I see the cart. “What in the world are you doing?”
So Over My Head (2010) Page 22