“You know what happens to a young man’s thoughts in spring?” Garnell said. His lips twisted into a sappy little smile.
“I know,” Chiffon said with a laugh. The blue scarf she wore on her head flapped against her ears in the breeze. Despite Chenille’s troubles, she’d never felt better. Tomorrow morning she was going to start work at the Crier, and when Elizabeth saw the proofs for the Bottom Dollar Girls calendar, she’d hired Chiffon to take some professional photographs of baby Glenda. “I’ll recommend you to everyone in my Mommy and Me group,” she’d said.
Chiffon had enough money left over from the sale of Lonnie’s things to purchase some additional photography equipment she’d need to do freelance work. Things were definitely looking up on the career front. But perhaps best of all, she no longer found herself pining over her two-timing husband. The fever had finally broken, and she felt healthy and free.
And now that she’d renewed her passion for photography, she didn’t have any urgency to run out and replace Lonnie with another fellow. Why, she was turning into a Jewel Turner, something she couldn’t have imagined only weeks ago. Now, instead of pitying Jewel, she admired her, realizing that the diner owner was operating from a position of strength. It was so liberating not to need a man!
Once Chiffon earned a little money, she’d decorate her house in her own style. There’d be no trying to fit furniture around a pool table, no camouflage curtains, and no gun racks hanging on the wall. Then, as soon as she was able, she’d hire someone to paint her little house. Maybe a nice lemon color, or a barely-there blue. She’d kiss that horrible purple good-bye for good.
The kids returned with their animal crackers, and they chased each other around the grassy plot near the gate as a Continental plane landed. Chiffon wrinkled her nose at the smell of jet fuel, and Garnell plugged his ears with his fingers.
In moments, they watched as passengers filed into the baggage claim area. Chiffon scanned the tired-looking travelers for her sister, but didn’t see any sign of her.
“There she is!” Garnell said after a few moments. Chiffon looked in the direction of his pointed finger and spotted her sister trudging toward the baggage carrel. Her face sagged as if it were weighted down with sandbags. But then Chenille glanced up and saw Garnell, waving furiously and calling her name. Almost instantly, her expression shrugged off its droopiness and she looked as hopeful as a teenager.
Garnell ran toward her and flung his arms around her. Her sister returned the hug, and Chiffon knew that any misunderstanding between the two had been resolved by their embrace.
When Chenille reached Chiffon and the kids—with Garnell holding her hand tightly lest she get away again—her cheeks were pink with excitement and her eyes jumped with questions. “Why are you here? How did you know?”
Her questions were tabled for the moment as the children crawled all over her.
“Aunt Chenille, Walter ate a bug,” Dewitt said.
“He did not!” Emily said. “He only tasted it and then he spit it out.”
“Come on, let’s go get your bag,” Chiffon said. “We’ll sort it all out for you while we wait.”
As they walked, Chenille told Chiffon and Garnell about how she’d discovered that Drake had borrowed all his best lines from a romance novel, and Chiffon told her sister about Drake’s Canadian citizenship and his relationship with Veronique.
“So that’s why his apartment was so empty,” Chenille said with a knowing nod. “All of his things must have been in her apartment. I’m so sorry, Chiffon. You were right about him all along.”
Emily tugged at Chenille’s sleeve. “You sure got back quick, Aunt Chenille. Didn’t you like Rome?”
“I didn’t make it to Rome,” Chenille said. A pained expression crossed her face. “Oh dear, I suppose I’ll have to call Mother at her hotel when I get home. I’m not looking forward to that.”
“I’ll call the old sweetie for you,” Chiffon said, smiling. “It’s always a joy to hear her screeching voice.”
“Mama, I’ve lost Hulk,” Dewitt said, patting his pockets. “I think I left him outside by the planes.”
“You sure?” Chiffon peeked in her diaper bag to see if the toy had inadvertently been stuck inside. “All right, let’s go outside, and you show me where you were playing. Em, stay here with Aunt Chenille and Garnell. See you in a jiff.”
She and Dewitt walked back to where they’d met Chenille’s plane. He crawled around in a grassy area, searching for his action figure while Chiffon walked up and down sidewalks outside the tarmac, Gabby babbling in her arms.
“Are you sure you had it with you?” she asked, watching the arriving passengers.
The travelers, as a rule, appeared happy and relaxed, and Chiffon wondered where they’d flown in from. One day she, too, would get on a plane and go to some far-flung, glamorous destination.
“He’s here!” Dewitt shouted. “He’s finally here!”
Chiffon looked up, expecting to see her son with the Hulk in hand. Instead, Dewitt was in the arms of a man wearing a denim jacket. The stranger was covering her son with kisses and ruffling his hair.
Like a mama cheetah, Chiffon ran in the direction of the pair, wielding her pocketbook like a weapon. “What in the heck are you doing, mister?”
With a swish of his streaky red-brown hair, the man turned his head slowly in her direction, and Chiffon saw his face. She swiftly registered the high-planed cheekbones, the full, slightly parted lips, and the intense squint of copper-colored eyes.
“It’s Daddy!” Dewitt shrieked. He buried his face in Lonnie’s neck.
“So it is,” Chiffon said, holding Gabby even closer. Her entire body shook from the jolt of his sudden appearance.
“It ought to be illegal to look that good,” he said, eyeing her, his voice a mixture of honey and gravel.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she said with a husky voice. The words tumbled from her mouth without her say-so.
The two stood there, eyes locked, postures tensed, breathing heavily like wrestling opponents catching their breath. He made the first move by leaning in to her, his lips brushing up against her ear. “Sorry, Tweety Bird,” he whispered.
Then he drew back to gauge her reaction. The sun was low behind him, and he glowed golden in its light. His odd penny-colored eyes sparkled with an unspoken plea.
She noticed a familiar set to his mouth. A smidgen of cockiness. Like he knew he was going to win her over regardless of what he did. Anger pinched at her like a chigger bite. She needed to feed it or she’d be forever lost.
“Lonnie—” she began. “You have no—”
“Daddy.” Dewitt lifted his cheek from his father’s shoulder. At five, his head was still too big for his body, a baby still. “Please don’t go away again.”
The bitter words stalled in her throat. Lonnie wiped away a tear on Dewitt’s cheek. “Don’t you worry none. I’m not going anywhere. Am I, Chiffon?”
Thirty-Two
No one will win the battle of the sexes. There’s too much fraternizing with the enemy.
~ Message tacked up on the bulletin board at the Bottom Dollar Emporium
Chenille sat at a table in the Bottom Dollar Emporium, sipping on a cherry phosphate.
“It’s been two days and I haven’t heard a peep from her,” she said to Mavis and Birdie, who were sitting at the table with her. “They aren’t answering the phone, and there’s a do-not-disturb sign taped to the door.”
Attalee, who was polishing heavy, scallop-rimmed glasses behind the soda fountain, looked up from her work. “What do you reckon they’re doing in there?”
“I don’t think they’re playing Parcheesi,” Birdie said, lifting her chin.
“I know that,” Attalee said. “But it can’t be too X-rated. Their house is crawling
with young ’uns.”
“The kids are at school most of the day,” Chenille said. “She’s probably dropped Gabby at day care. She enrolled her again because she was going to start work at the Crier.’’
“Which she isn’t doing,” Birdie said, setting down her glass of cream soda. “Although she did leave a message on the machine at the office saying she wanted to delay her starting date.”
Chenille toyed with the paper from her straw. “She’s making the biggest mistake of her life, going back to Lonnie. Mavis, I do appreciate you putting Walter and me up in your spare room until we can find an apartment.”
“It’s been my pleasure. Not that I’ve seen much of you since you’ve left Chiffon’s,” Mavis said in a teasing voice. “I don’t think I heard you come in until well after midnight last night.”
“Do tell,” Birdie said, leaning forward with interest. “Who’s been filling up your dance card, Miss Grace?”
“It’s interesting that you mentioned dancing,” Chenille said. “Garnell took me to a place in Augusta called the Eagle Roost and led me around the floor like Fred Astaire. Thanks to his dancing lessons from Jewel.”
“I’ll be hacked,” Attalee said. “Love’s in the air for sure. Dooley from the Tuff Luck Tavern called me the other night, asking me did I want to come over and see his fish hook collection.”
“Did you go?” Mavis asked.
“I did not,” Attalee said, bristling. “I knew them fish hooks were just a trick to lure me over to his house for a lip-locking session. I did say I’d be open to dinner at the Pick-of-the-Chick. He says, ‘Fine, so long as you order the dark-meat special; I’m a little short this month.’”
“Tell us, Chenille,” Birdie said mischievously. “Have you seen Garnell’s fish hooks?”
“I’ll never tell,” Chenille said with a giggle.
“By the way you’re blushing, I’d guess you’d seen the whole tackle box,” Attalee said.
“Certainly not,” Chenille said. She cast her eyes down coyly. “But I’ve been thinking about it.”
“My, my, my,” Birdie said over her soda glass. “I think our little Chenille is in love.”
Chenille’s face flushed at the mention of “our little Chenille.” Finally she’d managed to carve a place for herself in the community.
The bell over the door jingled, and Mrs. Tobias and Elizabeth strolled in. Elizabeth was holding a cooing Glenda, and Mrs. Tobias had a manila folder tucked under her arm.
“Sorry we’re late,” Elizabeth said as she walked back to the soda fountain. “We got delayed at the pediatrician’s office.”
Mrs. Tobias pulled off her leather driving gloves. “You should have seen that baby. She got a shot and barely whimpered. A true stoic, just like her great-grandfather Harris Tobias. Even the pediatrician was impressed.”
Elizabeth sat down at the table. “Where’s Chiffon? Is she running late?”
“I don’t think she’s coming,” Chenille said.
“Is she still holed up in that house with Lonnie?” Elizabeth asked, her forehead forming faint lines of concern.
“I’m afraid so,” Chenille said.
Elizabeth dejectedly shook her head. “She’s always been a fool for that man.”
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Mrs. Tobias said. She unfastened the clip on the manila envelope she’d brought and shook the contents out on the table. “Ladies, I have the calendar.”
Everyone gasped at the finished product.
“It’s gorgeous,” Mavis said, running a hand over the glossy cover. They all crowded around as she slowly flipped through each month.
“My favorite is the one of Attalee sitting in the corner with the dunce cap captioned, ‘Naughty by Nature,’” Mavis said. “It cracks me up every time I look at it.”
“That’s because Attalee is naughty by nature,” Birdie said with a high cackle.
“The whole town’s buzzing about your publicity campaign, Elizabeth,” Mavis said. “Everyone’s wondering what we’re up to.”
Chenille had helped Elizabeth post flyers all over town. The circulars featured a Betty Boop-looking cartoon with a finger over her lips. The caption read, “Can you keep a secret?” Beneath the cartoon the flyers said:
Come to the Senior Center, Friday night at 7 p.m., for refreshments. Friends of the Senior Center will be raising funds with a top-secret surprise. Please join us. We can “barely” contain ourselves.
“I also got a call from Reverend Hozey,” Birdie said. “He’s convinced that we’re still doing the nudie calendar. I didn’t tell him otherwise. I’m sure he and his minions will be there to protest.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Tobias said, clapping her hands together. “That means we’ll attract both sinners and saints. I just hope they all bring their wallets.”
“Chiffon was supposed to help serve refreshments,” Elizabeth said. “Do you think she’ll make it?”
Chenille pursed her lips into an unhappy pout. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Thirty-Three
The sex was so good even the neighbors had a cigarette.
~ Graffiti in the men’s room at the Tuff Luck Tavern
Chiffon ran a nail along Lonnie’s spine, and he immediately flopped over in bed to face her.
“You know that gives me the shivers, girl,” he said as he leaned down to nibble on her ear. Chiffon turned her head to glance at the glowing numbers of the digital clock on the lamp table.
“Twenty more minutes and I’ll have to go fetch Gabby from the day care,” she said. “We best not start anything.”
Lonnie kicked off the sheets. “Man, these feel like sandpaper. I’m used to something softer. Jay-Li got her sheets all the way from Ethiopia or some darn place.”
“Egyptian cotton sheets, I’d guess,” Chiffon said. “And what have I said about mentioning her name?”
“‘Don’t say that bimbo’s name in my house,’” Lonnie mimicked. “Just thought you might be curious how she lived. She was as crazy as a Betsy bug in some ways.”
Chiffon sighed, knowing she should not be in bed with Lonnie. She’d tried to resist him, but most of her gumption had drained out of her when she saw how delighted Dewitt was to have his daddy back home. Things had snowballed from there.
Emily had been more standoffish than her brother. When she’d first seen her daddy at the airport, she’d flattened herself against Chiffon’s slacks and sucked her thumb. But by the time they’d driven back to Cayboo Creek, she was happily chirping away with him, like a little bird. Lonnie had that effect on people. He shone so brightly that his past sins seemed soft and hazy, as if you were looking back at them through a lens smeared with Vaseline.
The night he came home, Chiffon had shut their bedroom door and stood over him as he sat on the edge of their waterbed.
“Why?” she’d asked.
He’d patted the bed and grinned. “Don’t you want to ride the waves first?”
“No,” Chiffon said, standing firm. “I want to know why you left your home and family. Why you betrayed me to run off with that floozy. Why you got her name tattooed on your—” She stopped short and narrowed her eyes. “Where is that tattoo of yours, anyway?”
“I don’t have it anymore.”
“How can you not have it? Tattoos are permanent.”
“You know I can’t stand needles,” he said, a forelock of hair covering his left eye. “I just got it painted on my bicep with some henna. I’d cover it up with tape when I showered, and Jay-Li was never the wiser.”
“You didn’t take the needle for her?” Chiffon said, sitting beside him.
Lonnie traced the letters “TWE,” for Tweety Bird, on his bare chest. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever endured that kind of pain for.”
Later, after they’d made love so hard that the headboard chipped the paint on the bedroom wall, Lonnie tried to explain how he’d fallen under Jay-Li’s spell.
“She picked me out from that crowd of extras, like I was a pair of shoes she wanted to try on. I was willing to oblige, thinking I’d never had a tumble with a real live movie star.” He leaned back on the bed, his fingers laced behind his neck. “Shoot, I didn’t even think you’d mind so much. After all, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Wouldn’t you do it with Tom Cruise if you had the chance?”
Chiffon ignored his question. “You went a lot further than just sleeping with her,” she said darkly.
“Yeah, I did,” he said, wearing the guilty look of a dog who’s peed the carpet. “I thought it was going to be a one-night stand. But then we got caught on camera kissing. It was all over the TV, and I guessed you’d seen it. So when Jay-Li asked me to stick around awhile, I figured I’d stay on until you’d cooled off.”
“You were gone over a month.” Chiffon’s voice grew shrill. “You sent me signed divorce papers.”
“I know. She got clingy on me. Thought we were ‘in love’ and all. I told her she could send you them papers, but you wouldn’t sign them. I said you were much too feisty. You looked so cute shooting those reporters with the Super Soaker.” He grabbed a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his index finger.
“You could have knocked me over with a feather when you mailed those papers back,” he continued. “It broke my heart in two. I didn’t think you’d do that in a million years.”
“What choice did I have?” Chiffon said tersely. “Janie-Lynn was going to make public my affair with Skeet. She went on television and implied that none of our children were yours. She wanted to test Gabby to see if she was really your daughter. I wasn’t going to put Gabby through that. I just wanted all of it to stop, so I signed on the dotted line.”
A Dollar Short (The Bottom Dollar Series Book 2) Page 22