Collard Greens and Catfishing

by Kelsey Browning

  “Maggie, I don’t know what any of that means. I need something specific to tell Martha.”

  “Just tell her we’re working on it. Sera’s been on the computer for hours on end. It’s coming together.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  “To Sera?”

  “No, to the computer,” Lil snapped. “Of course, to Sera.”

  Maggie swallowed. “She’s busy, but we’ll be there to see you soon and we’ll bring an update when we come.”

  “Put Sera on the phone, Maggie.”

  There was no fooling Lil. They’d known each other for too long, and that tone in Lil’s voice told Maggie there was no use in trying to dodge her. Maggie dropped the receiver on a wrought iron table and called out to Sera, praying she’d already headed outside for a yoga session or a dip in the creek. Sometimes she slipped out to do that in the middle of the day—naked, of course. But no such luck. Maggie heard the slap of bare feet heading her way, and then the door swung open.

  “Right here. What’s up?”

  Maggie picked up the phone reluctantly and shoved it in her direction. “It’s Lil.”

  Sera’s face brightened. “Cool.” She took the phone and spun around as she spoke. “Hi, Lil.” Sera glanced in Maggie’s direction, then hugged the phone close and walked around the corner of the porch.

  Maggie took a step toward the edge to listen in.

  “Yes, I know, Lil,” Sera said. “I’ve been looking into it. I couldn’t find one thing on Tom Thumb…Mmm-hmm…Oh, no. I went ahead and started searching from the other end. From inside the ThePerfectFit.com site. It connects you with your most promising matches so I set up profiles to see if we could find him that way.”

  Sera’s laugh tinkled. “I know. Right? Oh, the profiles? Abby Ruth thought we’d have better luck that way if we all registered, so that’s what we did. Yes, you can tell Martha that we’re on the case and I’ll have a better update by the end of the week. I mentioned paintball in my profile hoping to catch Tom’s attention. With three profiles, we should get somewhere in no time.”

  Maggie’s ears burned. Three profiles? Sera would never have put Maggie’s profile up on that website without consulting her. Would she? Chilled with uncertainty, Maggie grabbed the wood siding and swung herself around the corner of the house.

  Sera’s eyes went wide. “Got to run, Lil. We’ll be in touch.” She stabbed at the phone to end the call, and her gaze darted here and yon, like a trapped animal looking for an escape route. And her upper lip was beading with a sudden sweat. She wiped it away and fluttered around the porch, suddenly all smiles and rainbows and unicorns. “Lil sounded good.”

  “Sit,” Maggie demanded, pointing to a yellow-backed metal chair that was now apparently all the retro rage. “Abby Ruth, get out here,” she hollered into the house.

  “Why are you so ups—” Sera started.

  Abby Ruth strolled out onto the porch, glanced at Maggie, then stopped mid-stride.

  Perfect. That meant Maggie’s face showed just how hopping mad she was.

  “Sit your behind down,” Maggie said. “Right now. The three of us are about to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting.”

  Sera’s mouth dropped open, and she plopped her butt into the chair. Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You overheard everything I told Lil, didn’t you?”

  “Did you really expect me to go back inside?”

  “I thought the house would muffle my voice.”

  “These Georgians are well built, but even solid walls can’t absorb secrets. Friends going behind other friends’ backs. I expected more from you.”

  Lil had given Maggie the big brushoff by asking to talk with Sera. It seemed Lil was putting everyone and everything ahead of their five-decade friendship. Sera. Big Martha. Big Martha’s niece, a woman Lil had never even met.

  To check that steam wasn’t actually escaping from her ears, Maggie stalked over to the little gilt mirror Lil had hung over an old sideboard, making the porch what she liked to call an “outdoor room.” All she saw was a face filled with anger and sadness. Not only was Lil suddenly playing for the other side, but Sera and Abby Ruth had gone behind Maggie’s back as well. “Both of you, stay right here.”

  She reached inside the back door and snatched up the laptop recharging on the desk.

  Yes, she wanted Sera and Abby Ruth to be loyal to Lil, but what about loyalty to her? Shouldn’t the women she lived with every blessed day have a little more allegiance to her than the woman currently too busy serving time in prison to take care of her own home?

  Stop it, Maggie. Being hurt and angry rarely hurts those around you. It only stabs you in your own heart.

  She clutched the laptop to her hole-ridden heart. Sera’s and Abby Ruth’s priorities might not be clear, but Maggie’s sure were. The one and only thing on her priority list was the still-soggy septic system.

  Abby Ruth opened her mouth as though to speak, but Maggie slashed her flattened palm in front of her face to ward her off. “I told you both that I didn’t want to register for that silly dating site, yet you disregarded my wishes and did it anyway. Why does it take three profiles to look for one man?”

  “Maggie, we’re sorry, but—”

  “I don’t want apologies, Sera. I want action.” Maggie slapped the computer’s case, causing it to vibrate against her chest. “Now, log in to that site and do whatever it is you have to do to take down my profile. Right now.”

  She handed the laptop to Sera and stood behind her to watch the screen. A shame when a gal couldn’t trust her friends to do what they said they would. But Maggie wouldn’t be hornswoggled again.

  Sera slowly lifted the computer lid, and the screen flickered to life.

  “Why are you so darned against this dating site?” Abby Ruth waved a hand at the computer, which displayed a black-and-yellow login screen decorated with two intertwined hearts that looked as though they’d been crafted from scrap metal. Interesting logo for love.

  “Because…because…” Because how humiliating would it be when Sera and Abby Ruth got all kinds of interest and invitations and Maggie received none? Because they would no doubt want to share every little tidbit and Maggie wasn’t sure she could bear it. Yes, George had loved her to distraction, but Maggie had never been the most sought-after girl on the William and Mary campus. She was what gals these days would call the pretty girls’ ugly friend.

  Whereas Lillian had always been the belle of the ball.

  Old resentments, old insecurities. They had no place in her new and improved life.

  “For one thing, I don’t appreciate you two going against my wishes and putting my personal information online. I mean, who in the world knows what could happen to it? It’s like my details are floating out there in the mist for anyone to come along and snatch up. It could lead people to my bank accounts and Social Security number. It’s just not a good idea.”

  Sera pulled her multi-hued cheaters from her head to settle them on her nose and peered up at Maggie. “These sites have security measures in place. Believe me, they’re just as concerned about hackers as you are.”

  Maggie knew her arguments weren’t holding much weight, but she just couldn’t help herself. “How much did it cost to register—ten dollars? Twenty?”

  Sera’s eyes scrunched closed behind the lenses. Kind of an if-I-can’t-see-you-then-you-can’t-see-me response she sometimes had when she wanted to avoid conflict.

  “’Fess up, right this minute,” Maggie demanded.

  “A hundred,” Abby Ruth said.

  “Total?”

  “Each,” Sera squeaked.

  Maggie pressed her hands to her ears to try to contain the steam now billowing out of her brain like pollution from an industrial smoke stack. “Three hundred dollars. I cannot justify spending that kind of money on some silly goose chase when we could use that on repairs.”

  “Thought you said the septic system would be fine once the ground dried out,” Abby Ruth said.

&
nbsp; “Well, I’m not so sure anymore,” Maggie said. “I was looking for the darned distribution box when I about chopped off my foot. But all this dating nonsense is just taking up time that could be better used on looking after Summer Haven. Besides, you knew how I felt about helping Martha, and you deliberately went against my wishes.”

  Abby Ruth looked at Maggie from the corner of her eye and lifted one eyebrow. Finally, she sighed and said, “She’s right, Sera. We overstepped some boundaries here.”

  With Abby Ruth’s admission, surprise zigzagged through Maggie.

  “Fine.” Sera typed in a login and password quick as a flash. That girl’s fingers could fly over a keyboard. “I’ll take down Maggie’s profile.”

  She clickety-clacked over the keys and pressed the mouse pad in the center of the keyboard several times. After a couple of minutes, she pulled down her glasses and stuck her face closer to the screen. “Oh. Oh, no.”

  Maggie didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh no, what?”

  Sera pushed the glasses on top of her head again and sat back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t delete your profile.”

  “Why not?”

  Sera’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Because once you have a hit on your profile, the registration fee is no longer refundable.”

  Maggie leaned over Sera’s shoulder, squinting at the screen. “A hit? What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Abby Ruth drawled, “that someone has the hots for you.”

  Maggie stumbled back a step and held out a hand toward the computer screen as if she could hold off whatever was inside that website. “There must be some mistake.”

  Sera shook her head, her long hair waving across the chair back. “No. It shows the activity right here.” She tapped the screen. “Your profile was accessed by DanOfYourDreams at 6:45 this morning.”

  “And, sugar,” Abby Ruth said, “that’s not all. Apparently, Maggie’s beau is in love because he didn’t just look her over once. He’s accessed her profile every hour since.”

  “Let me see that.” Maggie pushed closer to the screen. “DIYDarling? That’s me?”

  Sera bounced in her seat. “Isn’t it perfect?”

  She did rather like it, but she wasn’t about to admit that now. Her attention flashed over to the profile picture on the upper right of the screen. “That picture is from fifteen years ago. How did—”

  Abby Ruth quickly jumped in. “We all used younger pictures of ourselves. We found yours in one of Lil’s photo albums.”

  “I didn’t even remember she had a copy of that one.” It was one of Maggie’s favorites, taken on a sunset cruise she and George had splurged on when they were at a hardware convention up around the Great Lakes. Maggie was wearing a broad smile, and although she knew she’d been sweating like a sumo wrestler in summer, on the computer she looked as if she had a healthy glow. She’d thought she’d been fat her whole life, but what she’d give to be that size again. Why is it we never appreciate the shape we’re in at the time?

  She flicked a finger toward the gold icon decorating her profile picture. “What’s that little star in the right-hand corner?”

  Sera clicked over to the site’s help page. “Hmm…it means your admirer has marked you as a favorite.”

  Abby Ruth’s eyebrows went so high, they were completely covered by her hair. “From what I read, you can’t just go around choosing as many favorite profiles as you want. Each registrant can only mark three profiles with one of those stars. Plus, once you mark a profile with that, you can’t take it back. This guy really likes you, Mags.”

  Two things warmed Maggie’s heart. One, that Abby Ruth had somehow picked up Lil’s fond nickname for Maggie. And two, that she was someone’s—anyone’s—favorite.

  “Let’s see what he looks like,” Sera said, taking control of the keyboard. A few clicks later, the man’s picture popped up and Sera enlarged it to take up the whole screen. “He’s hot.”

  The man was tall and fit, with blondish hair and a crooked smile. Arms crossed over his broad chest, he was lounging against a tree.

  Abby Ruth’s mouth dropped open, and Maggie couldn’t hide her delight, letting out a tiny giggle. “He is very good looking.” She floated on her snuggly little high for about three seconds. Because if she had one star, Abby Ruth and Sera’s pictures were probably framed in sparkly little gold stars. “Check your profiles too.”

  Abby Ruth’s brow went from the tenth floor to the basement, and Maggie knew immediately what that meant. She hurried to say, “Not that I think we’ll get the registration money back on either of yours. That’s for sure.”

  The tight expression on Abby Ruth’s face eased a little. “She has a point. Sera, let’s check them.”

  Sera typed TexasTough in the search box and hit enter. When Abby Ruth’s profile popped up, Sera clicked on the link.

  Surprise of all surprises, Abby Ruth’s picture wasn’t sporting a single gold star. Instead, one of those pop-up thingies flashed on the screen.

  “What’s that?” Abby Ruth demanded.

  Sera said, “Apparently, the site wants you to answer some additional profile questions.”

  “The hell you say,” Abby Ruth protested. “Those darn questionnaires were already a billion items long.”

  Sera glanced up at Maggie and rolled her eyes. “More like twenty, but you know she’s patience challenged.”

  Maggie snagged her lip with her bottom teeth to keep from laughing aloud. But she wasn’t about to pose the question that was racing through her mind. Could they get the money back on Abby Ruth’s registration? Maggie would rather toss away a hundred bucks than deal with the fallout of asking that. Instead, she said, “We can come back to this later. Why don’t you check your profile, Sera?”

  Sera’s login name was SunnyOutlook. When she opened her own profile, her picture was bare of even one sunny gold star as well. No pop-up questions though.

  “See, Maggie,” Sera said, her fingers dancing over the keyboard to pull up Maggie’s profile again. “We need you to get on board with this. We can’t afford to pass up the opportunity to dig deeper into someone who’s interested in you. He’s not OnceUponATom, but maybe your Dan will get us closer to the truth. It’s possible some of these guys know each other.”

  That deflated Maggie’s momentary pleasure at being the popular girl. “Are you saying that he has to be a wacko just because he’s interested in me?”

  Sera popped straight out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Maggie. “Of course not. I just mean it will give us one more investigative avenue. A gift horse and all that.”

  “Fine,” Maggie finally said. “Since I can’t do a darned thing about yanking my profile now, you two can keep an eye on it. But no more secrets. If there’s something I should know, you have to promise to tell me immediately. Even—” she shot a hard look at Abby Ruth, “—if you think I won’t like whatever it is. Are we all in agreement?”

  But rather than looking chagrined, Abby Ruth’s face was lit with humor and possibly admiration. “You drive a hard bargain, Mags. Have I told you how much I love that in a gal?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Teague enjoyed the Indian summer warmth on his back as he hit one last fly ball to his Little League team. They were playing on Summer Haven’s back forty, where Lillian had agreed to let him build a practice field. Only he’d forgotten Wednesday evening was when Sera held her big yoga class on the lawn. The class was well-attended, and a few of the baseball moms had been angry he hadn’t coordinated practice time with the yoga class.

  How the heck had he forgotten that half of coaching was handling parents? As a peace offering, he’d promised to finish practice by six.

  The ball hit the sweet spot between the makeshift first and second bases and winged out to right field where Benjamin Broussard chased it down, got under it with his legs planted and his glove up. Kid made a textbook perfect catch, using his bare hand as insurance to keep the ball in the glove.

  Teague’s
practice pinch runner was closing in on second base, scooting as fast as his legs would carry him. Broussard took one look at the situation, judged it, and rocketed the ball toward the second baseman. The runner knew he was cutting it close and went in for the slide. Didn’t matter because the ball smacked into leather milliseconds before the runner’s cleats slammed into the bag.

  As Broussard’s teammates mobbed him and pounded him on the head and back with their mitts, the bright look on the wiry kid’s face would’ve outshone the sun. That was the kind of confidence money couldn’t buy. Maybe it would carry over from the outfield to the batter’s box.

  A man could sure hope.

  “All right, y’all,” Teague hollered. “That’s the kind of catch that deserves a reward. Thanks to Broussard, you can skip your five laps around the practice field this afternoon.”

  That instigated more good-natured jostling on the mob’s run from the field to the area where they kept their equipment bags and the cooler of sports drinks.

  What he wouldn’t give to have his own kid on this team. Did Jenny’s son, Grayson, play baseball? If Jenny would ever reward them all with a visit to Summer Shoals, maybe Teague could get to know her son a little better.

  When he’d heard she was expecting Daniel Northcutt’s baby nine years ago, he’d finally let go of his pipe dream that he and Jenny might get back together one day. He might lust after another man’s wife, but he wouldn’t lust after a kid’s married mother. That night, he’d hit a Houston sports bar and slugged back cheap whiskey, one glass after another. His police department buddies had finally been forced to pour him into someone’s backseat and drive him home.

  That hangover in his head had lasted a week. The one in his heart was still throbbing to this day.

  He tucked his bat under his arm and leaned down to pull home plate out of the ground. Barnes was already circling the infield, grabbing the base markers. They met back at the equipment pile and organized everything while the boys sloshed their sports drinks on each other.