I noticed that Twila held a clipboard in her hand—no doubt she was asking the congregants to sign her petition as they entered. I secretly wondered if anyone would be brave enough. Meanwhile Jolene handed out flyers for the new wedding facility. Would Pastor Higley approve of that?
I walked up to Jolene and greeted her.
“Did you see Mayor Deets?” she asked. “The old fart is grinning like a mule eating cockleburs this morning.”
“Wonder why.” I glanced his way. “Think he’s up to something?”
“Usually.” She sighed. “But I’m not brave enough to sidle up next to him to find out why. Let’s just assume he’s up to no good.”
“You always assume that about him, Jolene.” Bonnie Sue frowned. “How would you like to be in his shoes, with no one trusting you?”
“Must be awful.” Jolene handed a flyer to a woman entering the church. “But he’s the only one who has the power to change that.”
“You are wrong, Jolene. Dead wrong.” Bonnie Sue gave her a defiant look.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the only one who has the power to truly change the mayor is the Lord, and I have it on good authority he’s in the life-changing business. Did you or did you not have an addiction to cigarettes when you were in your twenties?”
Several parishioners paused, one of them with a shocked expression on her face.
Jolene’s cheeks blazed. “Well, yes, but I don’t see . . .” She handed out a couple more flyers and nudged the people inside.
“And did you or did you not once hang out in saloons?” Bonnie Sue added.
“Bonnie Sue! Do we have to do this right here, in front of Pastor Higley and Nelda? You’re humiliating me.”
“Exactly. People who are bound up have a tendency to feel humiliated a lot. I’m just saying we need to give the mayor a fighting chance.” Bonnie Sue huffed off, disappearing into the crowd.
“Methinks she doth protest too much,” Jolene whispered in my ear.
Hmm. Perhaps. Was there some reason Bonnie Sue always rushed to the mayor’s defense, or was she just being sensitive? I didn’t have time to think about it, though. Pastor Higley and Nelda greeted us all with a rousing, “You made it!” Then they dove into a conversation about what a wonderful time they’d had at Tres’s birthday party the day before. D.J. took the kids to their class so that I could usher the family into the sanctuary.
I happened to catch another glimpse of Mayor Deets out of the corner of my eye. He must’ve figured out what Twila was up to with the petition. He didn’t look happy. Not one bit. I did my best to ignore him as we all took our seats. Should I tell Pastor Higley about the scuttlebutt with the mayor? Maybe I could put in a prayer request? Send up a plea for heavenly protection? Surely half the town had read Clayton’s article by now and knew what we were up against, right?
Before I could say a word, Clayton himself showed up. He took one look at me and headed off in the opposite direction. Coward. Behind him, entering through the double doors and looking a bit lost, was Cecil. By now Pastor Higley had turned his attention to someone else, so I turned and greeted Cecil as he entered.
“Glad you could make it,” I said with a smile.
“Good to be here.” For a minute I thought he might add, “I think.” Then I heard Twila’s voice ring out as she greeted Cecil. Seconds later she’d grabbed him by the arm and marched him inside to “meet the members.” The poor guy looked terrified. So much for easing him in. She planted him right in the middle of the Rossi family, just one pew in front of the Rigases. Not that Lily seemed to notice. She was too busy sighing over Fred, who was seated squarely between Jasmine and Blossom. Go figure.
Just as the band started playing the opening song, Mayor Deets approached. He leaned in to speak in a low tone. “I assume you saw the article in the Gazette?”
I nodded but said nothing, my gaze still riveted on the front of the sanctuary.
“I will have a copy of the bylaws in your hands by Tuesday,” he said. “And you will comply.” He moved to the other side of the room and took a seat. Alone. Well, sort of alone. He happened to be directly in front of Cora May Tucker, who wore a “Twila for Mayor” shirt. Could things possibly get any more awkward?
I turned to discover Jenna and Bubba slipping into the empty spot beside me. My best friend gave me an inquisitive look.
I responded with two hushed words: “Don’t. Ask.”
She didn’t. But I could tell she was concerned about me. I did my best to settle down and enjoy the worship. After a few minutes, I forgot about the mayor. Well, mostly. Seated next to my best friend, I felt more at home. Jenna and I had been to hundreds of church services together over the years, but never here.
Sure enough, the trio of ladies did a rousing dance routine—if one could call it that—during the upbeat songs. Mama seemed perplexed by this, but Rosa tapped her foot and grinned. Likely she didn’t see a lot of this at the Catholic church.
After the worship songs ended, Twila, Bonnie Sue, and Jolene—still a bit winded from worshiping with their dance—sang a special number in three-part harmony, a song I’d never heard before, one with a distinctly Southern gospel feel to it. I couldn’t help but notice that D.J. hummed along as they sang. Bubba too, it seemed. Maybe these two had missed their home church.
I paused to consider that for a moment. I missed my home in Galveston terribly, but it had never once occurred to me that my husband might be missing his home in Splendora. When he married me, he’d made his temporary move to Galveston permanent so that we could start our new life together. Had he missed his church? His parents’ property? The lovely pine trees?
I didn’t have much time to think about it. Pastor Higley began his sermon on forgiveness—ironic—and I kept a watchful eye on the mayor and Clayton as the message progressed. When the service ended and folks flooded from their pews—most headed outdoors to set up for the picnic—Cecil looked a bit discombobulated. I’d hoped that Lily would include him, but instead she walked over to chat with Clayton. Interesting.
Mama went to fetch the children and I promised to join her shortly. D.J.—God bless him—drew Cecil into conversation. Well, until Earline asked him to help set up tables outside. Then my helpful honey followed behind his mama to do her bidding with Cecil tagging along behind. Clayton and Lily continued their conversation a few seats down and finally walked out together.
The exchange between the two seemed to really upset Bonnie Sue, who plopped down onto a pew and muttered, “I’m so confused. I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my rear end.”
“Scratch your watch, Bonnie Sue,” Twila said. “It’ll give the locals less to talk about.”
“It was just an expression, smarty pants. This story about Lily and Clayton has thrown me for a loop.” Bonnie Sue’s brow wrinkled. “What’s wrong with that girl? I would’ve picked Cecil over Clayton any day.”
“We all would’ve, I’m sure.” Jolene sighed and rose from her spot on the pew. “But I guess it’s true what they say—love is blind.”
Bonnie Sue rolled her eyes. “Well, we’ve got to help pull the blinders off. That’s all I’ve got to say about that.”
“But how?”
“We’ve got to somehow get her to see Cecil in a different light. Make him more attractive to her.”
“Now, how do we go about that?” Twila asked. “That’s just silly. The boy’s handsome enough already.”
The ladies came up with scheme after scheme, but I finally put an end to it. “Don’t you think the Lord is the only matchmaker necessary here?” I asked.
The deafening silence on their end gave me my answer.
“Well, Bella,” Jolene said after a couple moments of awkward silence, “the Bible says the Lord helps those who help themselves, so we’re helping ourselves.”
“Technically, we’re helping Cecil and Lily, which is even better than helping ourselves,” Bonnie Sue added. “If you think about it, we’re d
oing unto others.”
Twila grunted in a most unladylike way. “The Bible does not say that the Lord helps those who help themselves, Jolene. It’s just an old expression. Might sound good in theory, but it’s not biblical. Before you go putting words in the Almighty’s mouth, you might want to check your sources. And in the meantime, you should read your Bible. Every day. Then seek the Lord for proper interpretation.”
Jolene rolled her eyes and reached for her purse. “Well, thank you, Billy Sunday. That’s two sermons in one day. What more could a girl ask for?”
Bonnie Sue pinched her eyes shut and then opened them again. “I say we continue to pray. We’ll seek the Lord and ask him for an opportunity to help Cecil out. When the opportunity comes, we’ll know it’s from the Lord himself.”
“How will you know that, I ask you?” Twila shook her head.
“Woman, where’s your faith?” Bonnie Sue clucked her tongue and headed down the aisle and out of the building, still talking a mile a minute to Jolene, who followed closer than a shadow.
I found myself alone with Twila. Perfect opportunity to broach a particular subject that had been on my mind.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Twila?”
“About Cecil and Lily?”
“No.” I paused. “You started to say something the other day and then stopped. Or maybe you just implied something. Do you know why the mayor has a particular bias against the Neeley family?”
“Ooh.” Twila paled. “Maybe I’d better sit down.”
“You are sitting down.”
“Ah. Right.”
I sat next to her and leaned in to whisper, “So what happened between them?”
Twila reached for her Bible and clutched it in her hands. “Honey, I’ve known Earline since we were just girls.”
“Earline?”
“Yes.” Twila attempted to stand, but her hip joints must have been giving her fits. No doubt she’d overworked them during the song service. “Earline and Mayor Deets, well . . .” A long pause followed. “Maybe you’d better talk to her about that, Bella.”
“Earline Neeley . . . and Mayor Deets?” For whatever reason, a shiver ran down my spine as I merged those two names together in the same sentence. Surely my mother-in-law didn’t have anything to do with this.
Twila came up with some excuse to leave and I followed along behind her, finding the others outside eating. Mama had already tended to the kids, thank goodness, and was seated at a nearby picnic table. They waved as I walked by on my way to meet D.J., who had saved me a place in the food line. I heaped my plate with yummy foods, then headed to join the family.
As we settled down at the picnic table, Earline dabbed her face with her napkin. “It’s as hot as a summer revival out here.”
“Yep.” Dwayne Sr. paused from eating to chime in. “It’s so dry the catfish are carrying canteens. Hope we get some rain soon.”
They had a point. The heat was getting to me and certainly wasn’t making this pregnancy any easier. For that matter, neither was this picnic bench. I couldn’t seem to get comfortable.
Speaking of uncomfortable, the topic of the mayor came up once again. This time Jenna broached the subject. “You won’t believe it, but the mayor has been telling people not to eat at the restaurant once it opens.”
“Why?” my mother asked. “What’s his beef?”
“Beef?” My father laughed and took a bite of his mashed potatoes. “Get it? Barbecue joint? Beef?”
“We get it, Cosmo.” Mama slapped his arm. “But my question is about the mayor. Why would he do this?” She looked at me. “This is the same man who’s been giving you such trouble about the wedding facility, Bella?”
I nodded, then happened to catch a glimpse of Earline out of the corner of my eye. She looked . . . ill.
“What’s that man’s problem, Bella?” Jenna asked. “It’s like he’s out to get us or something.”
“Feels that way, but I don’t have a clue why. We certainly can’t deny that it’s personal anymore, not after what you’ve just told us. I mean, he’s tough on everyone, but he’s definitely out to get the Neeleys.” My gaze shifted once again to my mother-in-law, who nibbled on a piece of fried chicken but said nothing.
“Turning people against Bubba’s restaurant is all the proof we need that it’s a family affair.” D.J. shrugged. “Still don’t get it, though. Why us?”
I couldn’t help but notice Earline squirm as D.J. and Bubba dove into a conversation about the mayor. Looked like Twila was right. My mother-in-law was involved in this.
D.J. must’ve noticed it too. He looked at his mother, eyes narrowing. “Mama?”
“Yes, son?” She glanced in the direction of the pastor and forced a smile. “What is it?”
“You know something about this?”
“Hmm?” She looked at him and then off in the distance again. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you’re acting makes me say that.”
Every member of the Rossi family gazed her way. For that matter, the Neeleys did too.
“Acting?” She fanned herself. “Bubba’s the only actor in this family.” She looked at Bubba. “Tell them, son. You’re the only one with any acting abilities, right?”
“Well, the only trained actor.” His gaze narrowed. “But you’re up to something, Mama. What is it? What do you know about Mayor Deets and his determination to take us down?”
“I, well, I . . .”
“Earline?” My father-in-law looked up from his plate and sighed. “Don’t you think it’s time the boys knew the truth?”
Oh. Dear.
Something was about to blow. Should I jump and run while I had the chance? No, curiosity held me rooted to the picnic bench. Well, that and my sweaty thighs.
Earline wiped her hands on her paper napkin and released a slow breath. “Well, if we’re being completely honest—and I know we should be—I’d have to confess that I know why he’s out to get us.” Her face flushed.
“Why?” D.J. asked.
Earline’s gaze shifted down to the table, but I could still see enough of her face to note that she was as red as Bubba’s barbecue sauce. “Well, if I tell you, you might think less of me.”
“I doubt it, Mama,” Bubba said.
“Just tell us.” These three words came from D.J., who looked as if he’d had enough fun waiting.
His mother released a slow breath as she looked our way. “See now, it’s like this, boys. Back in the summer of ’78 your mama broke the mayor’s heart.”
“Excuse me?” Bubba spewed his sweet tea. “You . . . what?”
Dwayne puffed his chest out, clearly happy to finally be sharing this story publicly. “A’course, he wasn’t the mayor then. He was just scrawny Tommy Deets, the kid who couldn’t get a spot on the football team.”
“That was the same year your father made quarterback.” Earline giggled.
“Tommy Deets.” Dwayne chuckled. “Don’t think he ever got over not winning this pretty gal here. So, boys, there’s your reason. It’s true. It’s all true. The mayor . . . well, he’s out to get us. All of us.”
I could hardly breathe as I took in this information. Apparently, neither could Twila, who stood bug-eyed behind Earline. She mouthed the words, “I told you so!” to me and I nodded.
Oh dear, oh dear. Now what?
15
Please Help Me, I’m Falling
The thing is, my life is a country song. I don’t need to be manufactured, and I don’t need anyone to tell me what to say or what to sing.
Kellie Pickler
“Mama?” D.J. looked stupefied. “This is all true?”
“Every word of it.” Earline’s hands trembled as she reached for her glass of tea. “Tommy and I were dating pretty seriously before your father made his move.”
“Ew.” D.J. pinched his eyes shut. “Did you have to put it like that?”
“Well, you know what I mean.” His mother took a little sip of her tea and
then set the glass back down, almost knocking it over in the process. “Your father came along—that big, strapping Texas cowboy—and stole my heart. I’d been dating Tommy for a few months prior to that.” A reflective expression settled over her. “I really thought he had a lot of potential.”
“Until you broke his heart, you mean?” Bubba said.
“A broken heart will mess with your head.” These words came from Bonnie Sue. Interesting. I hadn’t even taken note of the fact that she’d been standing nearby.
“I get it now,” I said. “Makes perfect sense. This is why the mayor drummed up those goofy bylaws. He’s just doing what he can to get back at Earline by hurting the rest of us.” I glanced at Jenna and Bubba. “Guess that also explains his reasoning for turning people against your restaurant. He’s definitely keeping it in the family.”
“Hurt the children, hurt their mama.” Dwayne took a bite of his mashed potatoes and shrugged. “Guess that’s the tactic.”
“You don’t mess with a woman’s children, grown or otherwise.” Earline’s expression tightened. “I might just have to tell him so myself.”
“You won’t be talking to that fella unless I’m in the same room.” Dwayne narrowed his gaze. “I think he’s still in love with you.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop at this revelation.
“He never married, poor guy.” Earline leaned against her husband, who slipped his arm over her shoulders. “I always felt a little guilty about that.” Her expression lifted. “But look on the bright side, boys. At least he’s not your father.”
“W-what?” D.J. paled.
Earline put her hand up. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him and have a family. I married your father and had a family. You see? Aren’t you grateful your last name isn’t Deets? I just don’t think Bubba Deets has a nice ring to it.” She looked at D.J., who couldn’t seem to find his tongue. “And D.J. Deets just sounds awful. Admit it.”
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