by Kait Nolan
Determined to not let Lyda’s reaction bother her, Shelby stepped off the porch and wandered into the east yard. This area had been cleared of trees and shrubs. A large smoker sat in the center of a cement slab. Delicious smoke wafted up from the fire. Shelby’s stomach let out a loud growl, even as pain filled her heart.
Lana would have loved this. If Lana had put in a weather order to Mother Nature herself, the sky couldn’t have been any bluer.
“Jeb! Lyda wants to know how long on the hog?”
Jeb Gleason turned around. He removed his hat and waved it in front of his face. “Shelby. Shelby.” He had a voice low and deep and full of gravel. Women had been known to lose their inhibitions after hearing it.
He strolled over and pulled her into a friendly hug. His clothes smelled of the roasting meat and hickory smoke. “How you doing, baby girl?”
She returned the hug then took him to arm’s length. “Hanging in there.”
“So sorry about Lana.”
“Thank you.”
They stood in an uncomfortable silence before Shelby pointed to the smoker. “What can I tell Lyda? She’s going to want to start feeding people soon.”
“Another hour, forty minutes at the least.” He gave a slow, easy smile. “I’ve seen the spread. She doesn’t have to worry about having enough to feed them. The crawfish and crabs are ready to go.”
“I’ll let her know.” She started to walk away. “It was good seeing you.”
“You, too. Hey, are you going to the softball game tomorrow. There’s a tournament.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Truthfully, it might feel good to go and relax for an afternoon and see old friends when it didn’t have anything to do with Lana’s death. Too much time had been spent locking herself away from those who she’d loved in her youth.
A situation she intended to rectify before returning to New York.
Chapter Seven
Dallas watched as Shelby came across the yard, sunglasses firmly in place. Even with the distance and behind shades, her expression was one of an angry Valkyrie coming down to exact retribution. He saw it all unfolding like some superhero movie shot in 3D. She’d have on one of those little suits that revealed more than it hid: brass bra, low rider skirt, and a helmet with horns.
He shook the hot thought from his head and stepped back as she approached her brother. Max set down the folding chairs he held and leaned against them. “Something wrong?”
“What? Why do you ask?” Judging from the way her expression changed she had no idea she’d looked as if she’d been spoiling for a fight.
“Because you looked like you were about to take a swing at someone.” Max steadied the chairs but moved them back and forth in a nervous way.
By rights Dallas should back off and left them to their discussion, but he had to admit to being curious as to why they seemed so uneasy around each other.
She made a face. “I was caught up in memories. Nothing more. Need any help?”
She reached out for one of the chairs Max held.
Max picked up the chairs and started around her. “We’ve got it. Go help the women folk set out the food.”
Shelby let out an incredulous sound halfway between a laugh and a duck call. “Wow. Just wow.” She turned to Dallas. “And they wonder why I never come home. Did my own brother just say ‘women folk’?”
Over Shelby’s shoulder, Dallas saw Max stop. His shoulders slumped, but he didn’t turn back around to apologize. After a few beats of silence, he started walking again.
Damn, his heart ached for this family. Singularly they were the nicest people he’d ever met, collectively they were a mess. “Can I buy you a drink?” He tried for humor, but it fell short when she shook her head and started away.
“Shelby, wait.” He picked up the chairs he’d grabbed from the shed and hurried to catch up.
She waited for him. “Do you think I’m stirring up drama?”
Great, a trap. Just what he didn’t want. Trouble was he didn’t know what prompted the question.
“Drama about what?” The chairs bumped against his legs as he walked. It was a good excuse to walk slower, have more time with her.
Shelby stopped and looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “Max seems to think I can’t be in close proximity to the family without causing trouble. For the most part I’m trying to stay away from it.”
“Well, it’s not like you didn’t have a rocky past with them,” he conceded. “It might just be the circumstances. Funerals either bring out the best in people, or the worst. Same for weddings.”
Christ could the conversation get any more uncomfortable?
“Hmm.”
Uncle T.C. always said beware of a woman who used sound effects instead of words. It never boded well for the man involved.
Instead of saying anything more, she gave a shrug and took one of the chairs from him. “I might as well help or get accused of shirking my familial duty.”
“Sure, now we’ve made it all the way across the yard. I’m going to have bruises.”
“So am I. You’ve been knee capping me with that damn chair for the last fifty feet.”
“Sorry.” They walked the rest of the way in silence. He wanted to offer to kiss her knees, but was afraid she’d find the suggestion inappropriate. She was already in an odd mood. But who could blame her. Coming home—being forced to under horrible circumstances—couldn’t have been easy.
After placing the chair he carried at one of the tables, he took the one in Shelby’s hand and opened it. She gave him a look to convey his chivalry was not appreciated.
“Are you hungry?”
She rubbed a hand across her belly. “Not really. I feel like I could use an antacid if you want to know the truth.”
Dallas put his arm around her shoulder and steered her in the direction of the porch. “Try to eat something. You might find the only thing you need is a full belly.”
“Is that Southern wisdom?”
“In a way. My mama used to always say that.”
“That’s because when a Southern mama doesn’t know what else to do, she breaks out the food. Southern cooking has been known to heal a multitude of ailments, from broken hearts to sleeplessness.” Shelby slid her hands down the sleek cut of her black dress. “That’s why I chose a Southern fusion theme for my restaurant.”
“How do you make Southern fusion food?”
“Come to New York and find out.”
“Is that another invitation?”
“How many do you need?”
Dallas stood there looking at her, unable to see her eyes behind her sunglasses. God, he didn’t want her to hide from him. He wanted to be able to see her eyes when she said things like that, to gage her emotions. “Only one.”
He started to reach out to pull off her glasses. Lyda chose that moment to ring the dinner triangle heralding the meal was served. For the first time in his life, he really hated that damn triangle.
People—mourners—began to line up on the stairs and make their way around the porch, along the buffet tables. He’d never seen so much food or so many people gathered to say goodbye to one of their own.
He’d known the Steele family since he was old enough to hold a crayon to write graffiti on the walls of the All Suwannee Daycare. The Steeles were as rigid as their name implied—all except for Shelby. She’d always been the exception to the family rules. Always the one to go out of her way to put her stamp on the world. Not quite the black sheep, but more of a stormy gray. For Lana to have wanted such a sendoff was breaking the family mold and so un-Lana like. Why had she waited so long to do something so out of step? But then, she had signed up for a fake boyfriend app.
They moved into line with the rest of the mourners. Shelby picked up a plate and started around the table. When she was finished, she didn’t have enough to feed a stuffed bird. Not that his plate was over-heaped with the offerings, but at least his loss of appetite was due to being so close t
o her, and not because of grief.
Dallas stepped away from the lunch line and started for the stairs. “Follow me.”
He led her down to an old maple tree with branches that spread far and wide. A bench swing hung from one of the largest branches. He held the swing steady with one hand while Shelby sat, then he took a place beside her.
No one was around except for a family of geese and croaking frogs. Insects were loud in the trees, serenading them with a song that sounded more like faulty electronics than living things.
The majority of the mourners stayed near the house and food. Sitting down by the river gave them a bit of privacy and hopefully Shelby would calm down. Judging by the way she watched people from behind her sunglasses, quietly chewing her food, she wasn’t anywhere close to calm.
“I’d tell you to let it go, but I’m afraid you’d stab me with that fork the way you are that poor cantaloupe.”
“I’m sorry. I’m poor company.”
Dallas let out a breath. “I don’t think you’re required to be the life of the party today.”
“Thanks.” She looked up from her plate and gave a sigh. “I feel so out of the loop. A visitor. I knew it would be awkward but I didn’t expect this.”
“Does it make you feel any better to know I’m glad you’re here?”
She slid him a smile. “Despite the awkwardness, I’m glad I’m here too.”
They sat not speaking. Words were inadequate and unnecessary. The best course of action was to allow Shelby to direct the conversation. He’d follow her lead because it was what she probably needed at the moment.
All across the side and backyards people stood in groups and talked, joked, laughed, and enjoyed the day. This gathering was more than a post-funeral luncheon. It had grown into a community cookout. If there was one thing Suwannee Grove did as well as softball, it was cookouts. Any and all opportunities to grill, barbecue, and open a keg were taken and exploited. Suwannee Grove as a whole had taken kicking back and made it into a high art form. Lana had definitely gotten this right. For a local, it was rather fitting tribute.
Shelby let out a long sigh. “This brings back so many memories.”
“This what? Miss Jacintha’s house or the fact Jason Davies is tackling those ribs like he’s on a holy mission?”
She turned her head and smiled. “God bless him. The sauce is never going to come out of that shirt.”
“Lola is going to put the hurt on him.”
“She should make him clean it himself.” She turned her attention in the other direction. A couple strolled across the lawn, their heads together in what appeared an intimate conversation. “Are Vivien and Jae an item now?”
Dallas watched the couple in question walk across the yard to the dessert table. The close proximity of their steps told a story that the gossips hadn’t. “Maybe. I haven’t heard and he hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Anyone heard from Lacy?”
Jae and Lacy’s story was a long and sad one. If any couple had suffered from family interference it was that one. “Mel keeps in touch with her, but that’s about all I know. I think Lacy’s living in Charlotte.”
“Such a useless situation.”
“And all his fault for listening to his family.” Dallas had never understood why Jae Stark had let the love of his life slip through his fingers when he’d already gotten her down the aisle. Stupid man.
At least Dallas had lost Shelby before he’d ever really had her.
He pushed the depressing thoughts away. After this week, she’d be gone again. No sense in letting his heart travel into wishful thinking territory.
“Do you ever think about coming back to stay?”
“Me?” Her frown returned, deepened. “Sometimes. If I thought I could live near my family again. The last few days has given me a lot to think about.”
“You really need to clear the air with them.”
Shelby looked over the tops of her glasses across the yard. “Oh, save me Jesus. Here comes Jacintha.”
Dallas watched as the matriarch of the Steele clan came across the lawn as if on campaign. The woman was a force of nature on good days, on bad ones she was straight from hell. Asa often swore that on a full moon he’d seen her riding her broomstick. The thought of which made him chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Something Asa said.”
“I want to hear it, but it’s going to have to wait.”
Dallas looked around for an escape as Jacintha bore down on them. “You want a drink or something.”
“Coward. You’re not going to hide at the drink barrel. You’re staying here with me.”
Jacintha arrived. She glared down at Dallas with an intensity that should by rights have been harnessed by the military as a weapon. “I will speak with my granddaughter alone.”
“Oh, you will, will you? Well who am I to argue?” Dallas stood and mouthed a sorry to Shelby before heading off to find Asa. As he walked away, he realized Shelby may have had it right when she left.
~*~
Shelby studied Jacintha closely as she turned to watch Dallas walk away. The look on her face wasn’t one of anger or displeasure but as a woman appreciating the backside of a handsome man. When she shifted her attention to Shelby, she pursed her lips and pointed to the plate on the ground. “Pick that up or you’ll attract ants.”
“We’re outside. Ants are allowed out here. It’s their domain.” She leaned down and picked up the plate as instructed. “Ok. It’s up. Is that why you came down here, because you thought I might be about to conduct a ritual ant dance or did you come to scare off Dallas?”
“No. I came here to invite you to stay with me tonight. We need some time to visit while you’re here. Is that too much to ask?”
Shelby stood plate in hand. A lone ant ran across the uneaten melon. “Seems to me if you wanted to visit, you’d have stopped by on one of your trips to New York.”
“With the way you left town, I wasn’t convinced you’d want any visitors from home.”
Shelby canted her head. “Is this Jacintha Steele, the most formidable woman in all of Suwannee Grove, admitting she’d been intimidated with the thought of visiting her granddaughter? You might be selling it, but I’m not buying it.”
Instead of the offended expression, Shelby expected to see, Jacintha’s mouth curled a bit in a barely restrained smile. “You, my dear, are more like me than you realize. More than any of my other grandchildren.”
Shelby failed to see how, but kept that opinion to herself. She crossed her arms, holding the plate outward to keep from dragging her sleeves in it. “How do you figure that?”
“Accept my invitation tonight and find out.” With that Jacintha gave her a cagey smile and turned away.
Really, her family was just too much to be believed. What kind of weirdness had this become when Jacintha invited her to her stay at the farm? Overnight. Very few childhood memories involved staying overnight at the farm. Still, she’d take Jacintha up on it, if only out of sheer curiosity. One she hated herself for. She’d not come down here to jump through family hoops. If she was smart, she’d pack her shit, go to the airport and get a return flight for later that evening.
But that would be running and she’d been there, done that.
She walked to the garbage can and threw her plate in then found Dallas talking with Jae and Asa. Seeing her approach the group, they broke off their conversation.
Dallas gestured with the beer in his hand, indicating her arrival. “That didn’t take long.”
“She asked if I’d stay here at the farm with her tonight. Nothing she couldn’t have said in front of you. I think she just wanted to see you walk away.”
Dallas made a face. “What?”
“Oh, yeah. Jacintha was totally checking you out as you left.”
Asa and Jae started to laugh. Dallas’s face turned red then he dipped a shoulder. “Maybe I’ll win her over yet.”
“Are you thinking of hittin
g on my grandmother?”
He chuckled. “No.”
She kept walking, hoping Dallas or one of the others wasn’t following. Honestly, she just wanted some time alone.
No conversations rife with context. No family meetings with secret agendas. No painful walks down memory lane.
Quiet. She needed quiet.
She turned and headed to the west side of the property and the river. Something about the burble of water over rocks had a way of relaxing her, making her able to sort through her problems and find clear direction. If there was one thing she needed at the moment it was clear direction. She had always known what she wanted out of life—to live it on her terms. Not ones established by her family.
She came to the riverbank and walked until she found a spot covered with moss where she could sit that wouldn’t ruin her dress. After slipping off her shoes, she sat down, drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around her legs.
In high school, when she wasn’t off painting school buses or filling someone’s locker with water balloons, she’d sit on the riverbank and dream. Sometimes those dreams featured Dallas, other times they consisted of only her, a map, and no destination in mind. Seeing the world had been important to her, until she’d moved to New York and realized the world came there.
New York was like no place else in the world. It moved fast, but enjoyed the stops along the way. Energy ran through the streets as quickly as the people. However, feeling the warm sun on her face and watching a river that wasn’t the Hudson meander its way through greenery, she had to admit she’d missed being home. Little excursions to sit for a quiet moment and reflect were not exactly built into her day. Hell, she was lucky if she got to run out to one of the many trendy shops in her Village neighborhood.
A chef by the name of Mario Tonzo, who worked for one of the big hotels uptown, had offered to buy her out. At the time she had shaken her head and thanked him for the offer, promised to keep him in mind if she ever decided to sell. Still, she didn’t know if she’d be happier staying up there where she had a life, but very little outside of running her bistro, or coming back here and bringing a bit of New York chic to downtown Suwannee Grove.