by Sara Evans
“Why, what are you?”
“You guys all right?” Dustin peered through the driver’s side window, his clear blue eyes focused on Jade as she crumpled against the seat.
“We’re fine.” Mama flicked her wrist toward Dustin with a shower of gray ashes. “Sorry to have scared you half to death. Jade-o must be getting her period, acting all psycho, driving on the wrong side of the road.”
Mama! She couldn’t stop her gasp if she wanted. Just kill me now. The magnet of embarrassment sucked every drop of blood in her veins to her cheeks and burned like a homecoming bonfire. She pressed deeper into the seat, not daring to look into Dustin’s ocean blues.
“Glad to know you two are okay.” Dustin propped his arms on the top of the door, but when Jade braved a peek, there was a bit of a blush on his cheeks. And he was smiling. At her. “Your lip . . . it’s bleeding.” He reached toward her face.
“It is?” Jade eased upright, touching the spot where her lip had smacked the steering wheel.
“Got a napkin or towel?”
“I think so.” Mama popped open the glove box and handed over Paps’s old grease rag. “It’s clean.”
Dustin took the cloth and brushed it lightly against Jade’s lip, setting her entire body aflame. “I’ve had a lot of busted lips wrestling and playing football. It’s just a small cut, but it’s going to swell. Put some ice on it when you get home.”
Dustin handed back the cloth and then stepped back, assessing the damage. “Your tires are in the mud pretty deep, but I think the boys and I can get you out.”
“You’re a life saver, Dustin.” Mama leaned over Jade, smiling at Dustin, while her scoop top drooped and revealed too much of her flesh. Jade shoved her back.
“Can you handle the clutch, Jade? You back out, and we’ll push.”
“S-sure.” Perspiration broke out on Jade like a kiss from poison ivy.
“Coop, Hartline, Brill.” Dustin rallied his troops. “Jade, when I tell you, ease off the clutch and slowly back out. Feel the tires grip before you really hit the gas. Got it?”
“Got it.” She had no idea what he meant.
“Well, well, look who’s got a crush.” Mama smiled as she wadded up the rag and stuffed it back into the glove box.
“Shut up, Mama.” Jade squared with the wheel, fired up the engine, and mashed the clutch, her gaze on Dustin and his football buddies. She could do this. She would do this. The popular boys at PCM high school were about to rescue her. She’d remember this day for the rest of her life.
“Okay, Jade, back out . . . easy.” Through the windshield, she felt Dustin’s piercing gaze.
The engine’s rumble beneath her hands was like an extension of her heart. Jade eased off the clutch, gently pressing the gas . . .
“Do you want me to do this, Cinderella?”
She mashed the clutch to the floor and jerked her gaze around. “Mama, don’t embarrass me.”
“Me? You’re on track to do that all by yourself. I’m just offering to help.”
“Jade, everything all right?” Dustin leaned around the truck, peering at her. “You ready?”
“Ready.” Giving the engine a bit of gas and easing off the clutch, the truck’s heavy, worn pistons struggled like an old man working his way out of an easy chair.
Jade checked the rearview. All clear. Except for a bunch of mowed-down corn. Jade licked her lips. Dustin winked, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Go easy now.”
Oh, why didn’t she love the clutch more? Why didn’t it love her? Ignoring Mama—who was blowing smoke rings Jade’s way—she eased off the clutch, her calf taut. Less clutch. More gas. Her foot slipped. The clutch popped. The truck lurched forward and the engine stalled.
Yelping, the boys scattered into the corn.
“Reverse, Jade, reverse,” Dustin hollered, his laughing smile a palette of white and ruby red on a canvas of Iowa-browned skin.
Perspiration broke out on top of perspiration. “Sorry.” She buoyed her voice, sticking her head out the window. “I’ll try again.”
One more snicker from Mama and she’d pelt her. Consequences be darned.
Jade fired up the rusty, rattling, once-red beast after three tries and humiliated herself further by grinding her way through the gears to find reverse. Mama didn’t even try to be coy or quiet. She burst right out in loud guffaws.
Dustin stepped away from the truck, motioning toward Hartline. Great, they’re leaving.
“Move over, Green Eyes.” Dustin pulled open the door, tapping the side of her arm with the back of his fingers. Fiery tingles consumed her. Where was all the air?
Mama sat up right as Jade slid to the bench seat’s center. “Bless you boys for helping us out. Come by the house later. We’ve got cake and pop.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Fitzgerald.”
“It’s Mrs. Ayers, technically, but you can just call me Beryl.”
Dustin nodded, his eyes landing on Jade’s face. “Get you out of here in a jiff.”
His bare knee touched hers. Sensations Jade never experienced before crept over her skin and sank into her muscles and filled all of her hollow places. She never wanted his knee to move from hers. Ever.
Dustin wore black nylon shorts and a cutoff PCM football T-shirt. The fragrance of roll-on mingled with the warmth of summer sweat. Could she bottle it and store it under her pillow?
The team was in the middle of two-a-days. Big brother Aiden left the house early every morning and came home late every evening, tossing hay bales in between. Half the team did. Called it strength training.
But unlike Dustin, her brother balanced his upper body muscles on toothpick legs. Dustin was muscled all over, and as he clutched into reverse, the bulge and ridge of his thigh pumped up over his kneecap.
Jade swallowed to keep her heart between her ribs. Otherwise it was going to thump right out of her throat.
“Cooper.” Dustin stuck his head out the window. “Check the road.”
Cooper’s blond head dashed past and returned in a second, calling all clear.
“Hang on.” Dustin twisted around to see out the window, his nose a breath away from Jade’s. Mama’s sharp elbow dug into her side. Jade dug back. One more move and she’d pop her, right here and now.
“Ready?” he asked, giving her another grin.
“Yes.” Her eyes searched his. What lived in his soul beneath the blue and the white? Oh, please let it be her name, flitting across his heart, lurking for a moment. No, a day. A whole day.
Dustin gunned the gas, shooting the truck out of the field and onto the road, fishtailing a bit, then lining it up in the lane before Jade could inhale. “There, back on the road again.”
Mama started singing, off-key, snapping her fingers. “On the road again, I just can’t wait to get . . .” Jade shushed her with a glance, but it didn’t stop her from speaking. “Dustin, you are a true knight in shining armor.”
“Call my mom and remind her, will you?” Dipping his shoulder into the door, he popped it open and stepped out.
Jade’s heart sent messages to her head insisting she come up with a reason for him to hang around. But what? Check her lip to see if it was still bleeding? See if the tires needed air? Check the oil? Check her pulse?
He was turning away, saying something to his buddies.
“Hey, Dustin?” Why was she speaking? Be quiet, Jade. You have nothing to say. “You drive like Steve McQueen.”
Mama burst out laughing, slapping her thigh. “You drive like Steve McQueen . . . That’s it? Your big line? Dustin,” she hollered, “forgive her; she’s a horrible flirt.”
Mama. Mama. Mama. Jade slid behind the wheel. If she could drive and push Mama out the door at the same time . . .
Grinning, Dustin paused at her window. “You okay to get home, Jade?” He dropped his hand down so his fingers lightly grazed her skin. Love, she was completely in love.
“We’re fine, Dustin.” Mama waved him off. “Thanks again. You boys come by
the house with Aiden for some chocolate cake and orange pop after practice.”
“Nice to see you, Mrs., um, Beryl.”
As they climbed into the navy pickup and hauled off, honking a good-bye, Jade shifted into first.
“You’re welcome, Jade.”
“For what?” She held the truck steady, the drop of adrenaline causing her arms and legs to quiver.
“For inviting him over as a thank-you. You’ll get to see him when you’re fixed up and not crashed into a cornfield.” Mama raked her hand through her flyaway hair. “Young, sweaty, hard bodies. Don’t it make you want to be fifteen again?”
“I am fifteen.” Jade shifted into second and eased down the road, south, toward Prairie City.
“Well, it makes me want to be fifteen again.”
“They won’t come by the house.”
“Sure they will. Why the heck not? Aiden is one of the most popular kids in school. And you . . . getting all tall and gorgeous. Another six months and you’ll be all curves.”
“Mama!” Jade tucked her arms tight against her side. “You know the boys won’t come to our house.”
“Why not? Jade, you’re being silly.”
“They won’t come.” She shifted into third with a fierce determination.
“Why? Because of . . . me?”
Silence. As angry as she could be at Mama, Jade hated to see her hurt. Mama was careless and wild, selfish and uncivilized at times, but at the end of the day . . . she was her mama. And all Jade had besides Granny. Her beautiful, free, flower child mama.
“Am I the Harper Valley widow?”
“Yeah, a little, I guess.” Her mama, the personification of a ’60s one-hit wonder. “Except you’re a divorcée, not a widow.”
“Too darn bad. Those boys will miss out on my excellent chocolate cake. And my gorgeous daughter.”
Jade laced the loose strands of her hair behind her ears and upped the radio’s volume. “How about a chocolate shake to go along with your chocolate cake?”
“Now you’re talking, Jade-o. Now you’re talking.”
Four
Sitting in a booth at Sugar Plumbs diner, June stared across Main Street, watching the Blue Umbrella, waiting for Jade. She had something important to ask her daughter-in-law.
“You’re out and about early, hon.” Mae freshened June’s coffee without asking. She was eighth-generation Appalachian with lean, jutted features and an uncanny ability to read people. “Can I bring you some eggs and toast? Cinnamon roll? A bagel? I hate to see a thin woman starve.”
“I’m not hungry.” June hid behind her coffee cup. Mae’s tiny brown eyes caught nuances above and below the surface.
“Starving yourself and jacking up on caffeine ain’t going to solve nothing, June.” Mae sat on the edge of the opposite seat. “Want to tell me about it?”
Of course she wanted to tell. She ached to spill every sordid detail about Rebel and his infidelities. Half the town knew anyway and probably thought “poor June” was clueless. Well, she wasn’t. But a careless confession here in the epicenter of Whisper Hollow gossip would crumble June’s tenuous facade, and she wasn’t quite ready to be so exposed.
“Restless night is all, Mae. Don’t go making a county case out of a sleepless night.”
“You ought to get the doc to prescribe you some Ambien or something. Knocks me right out when I pop one before bed.” Mae snapped her fingers.
“I prefer warm milk.” June circled her hands around her coffee mug. “I try to stay away from meds on account of Max.” She lifted her coffee to her lips. “Be an example, you know?”
“You love your son, June.” Mae stood and squeezed June’s shoulder. “You’re all pretty in your navy slacks and matching jacket, but such sad eyes.”
June forced a smile as she reached up to grip Mae’s arm. “I told you, I’m fine, Mae.”
And she was, finally. After hatching her plan. It’d been a torturous weekend avoiding Rebel, but she’d managed to keep busy and out of sight, sleeping in her home office. And he didn’t seem to have much business at Orchid House over Saturday and Sunday either.
But he came home last night, and by his demeanor, June knew he was ready to go back to relationship-as-usual. This morning he tried to kiss her goodbye. She’d ducked under his arm and walked through the kitchen and out to her car without a word. But could she really be angry with him for trying? For following their decade-old pattern?
It always played out the same. After a few months, she could no longer contain her suspicion over his infidelity, so she’d ask a few pointed questions about his whereabouts. Within a few days, Rebel would come home with jewelry and gifts, his affections sliding over to her side of the bed—morning and night. And the affair would be ended.
June ignored her tears, letting the hot rivulets cut through her perfected makeup. How could she surrender to his passion after such betrayal? But she always did. Rebel, flawed and infuriating, was a man of magical charms. And for months, even years, June lived in the sublime of being wanted. Desired.
But this morning her alarm did more than beckon her from a restless sleep; it awakened her heart. She peered across Main Street toward Jade’s shop. It was after 9:00 a.m.; Jade should be there by now . . . Oh, the Open sign hung in the door.
Reaching for her wallet, June dropped a five on the table.
“Good coffee.” June called to Mae as she rose from the booth and hurried across the street to the Blue Umbrella. Sudden jitters tilted her confidence. Was she really going to do this?
“Hey, June. What are you doing here?” Jade dropped the cash drawer into the register. Along the back wall, Beryl flipped through the old LPs. When she was well enough to come to work with Jade, Beryl made sure the music never stopped.
“Beryl, darling, how are you feeling?” June embraced her friend, but she had not planned on revealing her decision with an audience. She knew it was too early for Lillabeth to be at the Blue Umbrella, and June had counted on having Jade to herself.
“Want to play some cards later, June?”
“Lovely idea, Beryl. But how about a little Glenn Miller this morning?”
“I’m in the mood, June.” Beryl wiggled her thin eyebrow, chuckling. June smiled at the pun. “For some ‘Take the A Train’ and ‘Little Brown Jug.’ I think I can manage a bit of the great Glenn.”
Jade headed for the office and June followed, easing the door closed behind her. “Busy morning?” She perched on the edge of the metal chair by Jade’s desk, steadying herself when it listed starboard.
“Very. Got to open up here, get things going, then head down to the Blue Two when Lillabeth comes in.” Jade stuck her head out the door. “Mama, did I bring in my backpack?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“It’s over there, Jade.” June pointed across the room to the filing cabinet.
“Ah!” Jade snatched up the bag. “I’m losing my brain here.”
June’s gaze fell on Jade’s organization system—green and pink sticky notes plastered to the top of her desk. In recent months, she’d expanded to using the wall.
After digging in the backpack, Jade pulled out a binder and sat, flipping through the pages. With an exhale, she looked up at June.
“How are you?”
“I have a plan.”
“A plan?” Jade scanned her sticky notes. “What kind of plan?” She ripped up a line of green notes muttering, “Done. Done. Done.”
“Maybe I should just go. Obviously you’re busy.” But she didn’t move.
“June, okay, now . . .” Jade tossed the ripped-up sticky notes in the trash basket. “I’m all yours. What’s your plan?”
June twisted the straps of her Birkin bag. “I want to move into the loft.” She pointed over her head.
“That’s your plan? Moving into the Blue Umbrella’s loft? June, why don’t you just confront him? Are you going to let him get away with this?” Jade dropped down to her chair with a thump.
“I’ll pa
y a fair rent, Jade.”
Jade slapped her hands against her thighs. “The Orchid House is six thousand square feet. Can’t you find a place to hide from him there? The pool house is twice as big as the loft and twice as nice.”
“The pool house is torn up for a remodel. Besides, I cannot stay in that house.” June held Jade’s gaze. “Can you blame me?”
“Not really.”
“Did you tell Max?”
“You asked me not to, but it was hard. Max and I promised not to keep secrets from each other once we got married.”
“But this is about Reb and me. It’s not like you’re keeping a personal secret from him.”
“What do you think he’ll say when he finds out I knew?”
“What makes you think he’s ever going to find out?”
“June.” Jade gestured toward the ceiling, the glint in her eye challenging. “You just asked to move into the loft.”
Right. “I’ll tell him I needed some space. He’s aware Reb and I don’t have a perfect marriage.” June’s morning coffee burned in her stomach. “I’ve never lived on my own. I went from my father’s house to a college dorm to marriage. Maybe now it’s time.”
“You raised a clever, intelligent son, June. He’s never going to accept you living in the loft as ‘needing space.’”
“Then I don’t care. Let him find out; let his dad tell him.” She gathered herself and stood. “I’d like to move in today if I could. Hire some men to bring some furniture from the Orchid House.”
“June, are you sure?”
“If I don’t do this, I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life.”
Jade regarded her for a moment, as if she didn’t buy June’s forceful sentiment, but then she opened her middle desk drawer. “Here’s a key to the back door. It opens the loft too.”
“Thank you.” June clung to the key. “I’ll pay a thousand a month.”
“A thousand? June, no, that’s too much. Just pay the utilities.” Jade jotted a set of numbers on a pink sticky note. “Here’s the security code. Punch it in and hit Okay twice to confirm. Simple.”
“I’ll pay a thousand a month. If I don’t, it’s not worth it to me. And I need it to be worth it.”