Small Town Rumors

by Carolyn Brown

  Jennie Sue’s face burned. “I think I’ll leave you two to discuss that all by yourselves. I’ll see you this evening, and, Nadine, I’d love it if you’d save me a slice or two of that brisket.”

  “Consider it done.” Nadine stopped and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you’ve come to work for us, girl.”

  “Me, too.” Jennie Sue nodded.

  With her face still on fire, she walked out of the house and got into the truck. Then the laughter started. Those two old ladies were a complete hoot. By the time she’d backed out and was on the road to her folks’ place, she was laughing like she hadn’t done in years. She braked at a stop sign and laid her head on the steering wheel. Once she finally got control of herself, she saw the little green sign pointing toward the cemetery.

  She stared at it until a car behind her honked, and then she made a sharp left and drove down to the cemetery, through the gates, and straight to the Baker plot. Tears streamed down her face and dripped onto her shirt. Her baby had been buried right there in an unmarked grave for more than six months. There’d been no funeral, no saying goodbye—at the time, it seemed like the best thing to do, since she couldn’t leave the hospital, and there was no way she wanted her baby buried in New York. So while she was in the hospital with an infection, she’d let her mother take over the arrangements. She’d sent a pretty little white lace dress that she’d planned for Emily Grace to wear home. She didn’t even know if her mother had used it.

  She opened the pickup door, and hot air rushed inside. She slung a leg out but couldn’t make herself move the other one. Maybe if she touched the grass above the place where she knew Emily Grace was buried, she’d have closure. But she couldn’t do it that day. She pulled her leg back inside the truck and slammed the door.

  “I’ll be back, Emily. I promise,” she whispered as she turned the truck around and drove toward the Baker estate. She wanted to cry or hit something or maybe just scream. The one thing she didn’t want to do was face her mother, so she pulled the truck off on the side of the road a mile from the house and said a silent prayer for strength to get through the day.

  After several minutes she started up the engine and drove the rest of the way. She parked in front of the garage and inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, and got out of the old truck. She’d never needed a dose of energy more than she did right then. Going into the house with all the Belles in attendance, plus her mother at the center, would take more strength than even God could give her.

  She touched the key to start up the engine again, put it in reverse, and go to Nadine’s. But Frank opened the door for her before she could do anything.

  “Hey, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” he asked.

  “It’s been an emotional morning. I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.

  “That’s up to you, but if you are going to give it a shot, you’d best make a side trip through the bathroom in the garage. There’s black streaks runnin’ down your cheeks, and your mama will have a hissy if she sees you like this,” Frank told her.

  “Thank you, Frank,” she sighed. “I might as well go on in and face the music since I’m already cried out.”

  Rick’s truck bed was filled with paper sacks full of fresh produce that morning. With twenty stops to make in Bloom, it would take until lunchtime to get it all delivered. He’d thought about putting in a small produce stand out in front of his and Cricket’s house, but then he’d have to man it for several hours a day. A lot of his customers didn’t need to be out in the heat anyway.

  His first stop was at the Baker place, where he took two huge bags of food up to the kitchen door and rang the doorbell. Mabel opened it immediately and motioned him inside. “Thanks so much for putting us first on the list. It helps so much today. Oh, Rick, these tomatoes are beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Lots of water, healthy fertilizer, and bug spray. Be sure to wash them good,” he said.

  Mabel pulled several bills from an envelope marked “Petty Cash” and handed them to him. “This is so much better than what I can get in the grocery store. Dill loves fresh food. Says it reminds him of when his mama had a garden.”

  “Thank you. Let me know if you need anything else this week.” He was out the door when he saw Lettie’s old truck rumbling up the lane. He stopped and leaned on the porch post until the driver parked in front of the long multicar garage. Surely Lettie Clifford wasn’t coming to the Baker place to brag about Jennie Sue working for her.

  Frank went out to the truck, then Jennie Sue followed him back into the garage. Rick left the porch and met them when they rounded the end of his truck. Jennie Sue. So much sadness filled her pretty blue eyes that he wanted to hug her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine . . . or I will be,” she said.

  Her eyes and all that mascara streaking down her cheeks didn’t agree with her words, but he wouldn’t pry into her business. “Can I help?”

  She shook her head and glanced over into the truck bed. “Did Mabel order all this?”

  “No, only a couple of bags. I still have to deliver the rest,” he answered.

  “It all looks good.” She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I love fresh better than frozen or canned. Could I get some delivered to my apartment once a week? If you’ll give me a couple of minutes, I’ll help unload it.”

  “Wouldn’t want you to get those party clothes dirty. But about a delivery—I’d love to add you to my list. Here’s my phone number.” He fished a business card from the pocket of his shirt. “Just call me the night before you want it and tell me what you need. I can have it there the next day or bring it to you at Amos’s store. And I always take stuff to Nadine’s and Lettie’s on Fridays.” His heart kicked in an extra beat as he handed her the card. Jennie Sue would have his phone number. If she ever called, would they talk about anything other than tomatoes and watermelons?

  “I’ll be in touch tomorrow night, so you can bring mine and Lettie’s at the same time,” she said. “Right now, I’ve got to get myself presentable so my mother doesn’t stroke out.”

  “I think you’re beautiful even with war paint.” He smiled.

  She dashed into the garage bathroom and washed off all her makeup. Her reflection stared back from the mirror above the sink. “I like this woman with no makeup, but I expect Mama would have a cardiac arrest if I showed up at her party like this.” She talked to herself as she got out an emergency makeup bag from her purse. She redid her mascara, brushed on a minimum of eyeliner and shadow, and then applied lipstick. It wasn’t what Charlotte would expect, but at least it was a compromise.

  “How mad is she?” she asked Frank when she was back in the garage.

  “Not quite as upset as she was when you brought home that guy who was studyin’ psychology for the weekend when you was in college. Lord, did that man have thoughts. She’s got all her friends around her right now, so she’ll keep her temper in check. You here for the party or for good?” He hugged her tightly.

  “Just for the party. I talked to Daddy, and he said I could come to it even if I didn’t want to move back into the house. I don’t know if I can do this, Frank. Facing her after that fight we had would be bad enough, and now the Belles are in there.”

  “Well, there ain’t but two options right here, Jennie girl. You can get in Lettie’s truck and drive back to town, or else you go in there and face the bear in her cave,” Frank said.

  “Guess I’ll face the bear. She only gets worse with time.” She hurried to the kitchen door before she lost her nerve and pushed inside.

  “Darlin’ girl.” Mabel rushed to wrap her arms around Jennie Sue. “I’m so glad you came today. Your mama’s friends are already out on the porch havin’ mimosas. They’re makin’ a day of it to cheer her up. She’s been horrible since y’all had the fight.”

  “Mabel, we need some more orange juice out here,” Charlotte yelled.

  “I’ll be right back.” Mabel got a bottle from t
he refrigerator and hurried out of the kitchen.

  Rick pushed through the kitchen door carrying a huge watermelon. “I got to the end of the lane and remembered that I didn’t bring in the most important thing for the party.”

  “Hello again. Just put it right there.” Jennie Sue pointed toward the cabinet.

  He set it in a position so it wouldn’t roll, then turned to face her. “You’ve still got a smear right under your ear you might want to check.”

  She quickly wet a paper towel and handed it to him. “Help me, please. If I run into one of Mama’s friends, they’ll say something about it.”

  He carefully dabbed at a place and then tipped her chin up with his thumb and turned her head back and forth. “Now you’re in good shape.”

  “Thank you so much.” She took the towel and threw it in the trash, but it wasn’t so easy to get rid of the feeling his touch created. She chalked it all up to nerves over having to deal with her mother and her friends.

  Mabel returned, nodding when she saw the watermelon. “Have you got a couple of extras? I’m beginning to think one won’t do the job.”

  “Sure do. I’ll go out to the truck and bring them in,” Rick said as he limped out the back door.

  “Good boy, that Rick is,” Mabel said. “Town should have given him a parade or named a street after him or something when he came home all shot to hell and back. But he wasn’t—Well, they didn’t.”

  “Wasn’t what?” Jennie Sue touched her chin to see if it was as warm as it felt.

  “Honey, this is Bloom. The have-nots don’t get much attention or reward for doin’ something amazin’. The haves get the glory whether they did something really important or not,” Mabel answered. “But that Rick is one of the best. And now you’d best get on out there and play nice with your mama and her friends.”

  “Where’s Daddy?” Jennie Sue asked.

  “He’s at the office. Said he’d be back in time for food this evening. You want to call him?”

  Jennie Sue sighed. There went her support if her mother was still mad. “No, I’ll just go get it over with.”

  Mabel lowered her voice. “She did drink a whole pitcher, so she might be softened up a little bit. Tread easy, though.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jennie Sue gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  She went to the window and counted all eleven of the other Belles sitting on the porch with Charlotte. According to the charter that had been made when Charlotte’s grandmother and several of her friends started the Sweetwater Belles, twelve was the magic number. If a member had a daughter, when she died, that child inherited the prestigious spot. If not, then the remaining eleven had to agree on who was worthy to be admitted into the exclusive club.

  From a very young age, Charlotte had instructed Jennie Sue to call all eleven of those women “aunt,” but standing back in the shadows, trying to gather the courage to go out there, she wondered if today she’d be disinherited. With her gaze on her mother, she didn’t even see Aunt Sugar coming her way until the woman touched her on the arm with a frown.

  Sugar Cramer was Charlotte’s age, but she looked twenty years older. She wore her blonde hair in a pageboy cut, and she towered above Jennie Sue. Looking more like a rough old girl you’d see hangin’ around a lamppost on a bad street, she hardly gave off the impression that she could be a southern belle.

  “Jennie Sue Baker, how could you upset your mama like this? I’m glad to see you back home, though. You go out there and make a public apology to her. She only wants what’s best,” Sugar scolded.

  “She thought Percy was wonderful, so maybe she doesn’t know what’s best for me,” Jennie Sue argued.

  “But he’s so cute and so rich and he treated you like a queen,” Aunt Sugar shot back.

  “The only thing he ever did for me was teach me to keep a clean house, which got me a job to hold me over until I can find something,” Jennie Sue said.

  “A southern woman, especially a Belle, holds her head up in adversity and never leaves her husband,” Sugar said stoically. “And she damn sure doesn’t clean houses. It will take a lot of redeeming for you to ever get into the Belles. If your mama wasn’t the good-standing member that she is, we’d all have some major doubts.”

  Jennie Sue popped a hand on her hip. “I didn’t leave him. He left me with nothing. No man is worth what I went through, so believe me when I say I don’t want a husband anytime in the near future. The feds are after him for tax evasion and have confiscated my house, my car, my jewelry, and everything I owned. He’s also wanted for extortion. Don’t give me a dressin’-down over cleanin’ houses, Aunt Sugar. And FYI, which is for your information, I don’t give a damn about my place in the Belles.”

  Sugar backed up a couple of feet. “You settle down, Jennifer. That’s no tone to take with your elders. You mama said you’d gotten a bad spirit since the divorce. If you’ll straighten up, we can forgive one little rebellious week. We’ve all had our bad days, and we could use you on a dozen committees, with your business degree,” Sugar said.

  “And I can’t serve on those committees unless I’m livin’ at home?” Jennie Sue asked.

  “That’s life, darlin’.” Aunt Sugar patted her on the cheek. “You got to decide what’s important in the long haul.” She disappeared toward the bathroom on the first floor.

  Jennie Sue stiffened her spine and walked outside, went straight to the bar, and asked for a mimosa with double the champagne.

  “Jennie Sue,” Aunt Mary Lou squealed, “I told Charlotte that you were just havin’ a little anxiety attack. You should see my doctor for that. He’ll prescribe a little capsule that will make you feel at peace with the world.”

  Carrying her mimosa with her, Jennie Sue crossed the patio and sat down in a lounge beside her mother. “I’m just here for the party, not for good. I start the first of my two jobs in the morning.”

  “Did Dill send a car for you?” Charlotte asked.

  “No, Lettie loaned me her truck for the day, but I need to be back by evening so I can drive her and Nadine to the fireworks.” Jennie Sue took a sip of the mimosa.

  “Sweet Lord! Housecleaning and chauffeuring around those two old bats,” Charlotte gasped. “And driving that truck onto my property? Have you lost your damn mind?”

  Jennie Sue took a big gulp. “Mama, I want to forge my own path. I don’t want to try to fill the mold that you have all these years. Let’s agree to disagree and get along.”

  Charlotte’s expression almost had the plates and cups flying on their own. But she managed to compose herself and say, “You look like crap in that outfit. I swear, you’ve gained another ten pounds since yesterday, and your hair needs to be styled. Did you do your own toenails? You smeared the polish onto the skin on your pinkies.”

  “But she’s goin’ to look better when we take her to the spa tomorrow, right?” Sugar sat down beside Jennie Sue.

  Mary Lou came up on the other side and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You need to stop this nonsense. Let’s do lunch tomorrow, and afterward we’ll all get our nails done and maybe hit that new little boutique in Sweetwater for some decent new outfits.”

  Jennie Sue set the remainder of her drink on the table and stood up. She bent down and kissed her mother on the forehead. “Thank you both for the invitations, but I have to work tomorrow. You look beautiful as always, Mama. Call me when and if you ever change your mind about what I’m doing. Y’all have a wonderful day.”

  With her head held high, she walked back into the house and, avoiding even Mabel, went out the front door and circled around to the garage. Frank met her at the truck with his white handkerchief held out. She took it from him and wiped at a brand-new rush of tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “Mabel heard what they all said and called me. I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he said. “I should call Dill.”

  “No, don’t do that. It would just work Mama up more. He’ll be home today and I’ll talk to him then. Nadine and Lettie have invited me to their
party, and they could use some help getting things ready the rest of the day.” Jennie Sue handed back the hankie. “Thanks, Frank. You and Mabel have always been here for me.”

  “Couldn’t have no kids of our own, so we kind of adopted you.” He smiled through sad eyes. “We’re right proud of the way you’ve grown up.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad you’ve been in my life.”

  “Not been, honey—are in your life. If you need anything, you can call me or Mabel anytime, night or day. We’ll always be here for you,” Frank said.

  Jennie Sue patted him on the shoulder, got into Lettie’s truck, and drove away from the house. How could so much happen in only two days? It seemed like six weeks since she’d gotten off that bus.

  Chapter Five

  Rick dressed in his best jeans and a mossy-green shirt that matched his eyes. He combed his dark hair straight back and laid a hand over the scar under his jawline on the left side. It had taken sixteen stitches to close that gash, but that was nothing compared to all the scars under his clothes. He looked like a Frankenstein character, with a total of more than a hundred stitches on his body. That didn’t count the scar that ran the whole length of his bad leg. Thank goodness for clothes.

  A picture of Jennie Sue flashed through his mind. The streaks down her cheeks reminded him of the black on his face that he’d been wearing when he went on his last mission. A warrior in those days, he’d been somebody, not just that farmer’s kid from Bloom, Texas.

  I wonder what brought tears to Jennie Sue’s eyes this mornin’. What kind of mission would make her cry? He picked up his phone and keys.

  “Are you about ready?” Cricket yelled.

  He made his way to the living room and whistled through his teeth. “Well, it does look like all that primpin’ paid off. I just got one question. Who are you trying to impress?”

  “Oh, hush.” She smoothed the sides of a cute little sundress. Her hair had been curled, and her makeup was perfect. “I might ask you the same question. You even ironed those jeans.” She tilted her chin up a notch. “And that’s the aftershave you save for church. You thinkin’ that Jennie Sue might give up her place at the Baker party and join us low-class folks? Think again. She’s too hoity-toity to stay in a little place like Bloom, and when she leaves, all of us peons will be left in the dust.” She picked up her purse and led the way out of the house. “You drivin’ or am I?”