Small Town Rumors

by Carolyn Brown

  “Okay, next one,” Amos said. “How many of you have read Gone with the Wind more than once, and would you reread Scarlett?”

  Jennie Sue’s hand shot up in the air. Anything to get her mind off her inability to touch the ground where Emily was buried. “I’ve read them both multiple times already.” She didn’t tell them that both books and Rhett Butler’s People had helped her keep her sanity when she lost her baby.

  “Got anything to add, Jennie Sue, before we go on to the next question?” Amos asked.

  “I’m so sorry. I was woolgatherin’. What was the question?”

  “Did Scarlett change because she’d lost Bonnie Blue and she wanted to be a good mother to her daughter Cat?”

  “I would think that maybe Scarlett must have felt an extra strong bond with her new daughter after losing Bonnie Blue.” Hopefully, she’d answered it well enough without going into detail.

  Rick nodded.

  “Agreed,” Amos said. “It’s been a great discussion. Anyone got anything to add?”

  “Yes, when are we eatin’ the snacks?” Nadine said. “I saw that whiskey bacon over there, so let’s get to it.”

  Cricket pushed back her chair and led the way to the refreshment table. “Good discussion, everyone. Did y’all hear that Belinda, one of the Belles, almost didn’t go on that spa trip because she’s been sick? I wonder what’s wrong with her.”

  Rick stepped up behind Jennie Sue and whispered, “If we’re going into business together, we need to know the gossip rules. Number one is that you don’t discuss the people who are within hearing distance. Belinda is a safe topic because she’s not here.”

  His warm breath on her neck caused tingles to chase down her spine. “What’s the number-two rule?”

  “I can see that you aren’t up on the rumor protocol.” He took a couple of steps to the side so he was facing her. “The second rule is to never write anything down or send a text. Phones are fine since no one has a party line anymore, but the best way to spread it is word of mouth. You want plausible deniability.”

  “Thanks for explaining it to me. I’ll need to be up on all the regulations.” She kept a serious expression, but it wasn’t easy.

  “And the last rule is that whatever comes in must be spread real quick. If you sit on it more than a day, you are committing a sin,” he drawled. “When it comes back to us, we can sugar it up and resell it.”

  “Is that a little like reissuing a book? Put a new cover on it and change the title and it becomes new?” she asked.

  “What’s been reissued?” Cricket asked. “I wish they’d make a law that all reissued books had to have a little sticker on the front cover so us readers wouldn’t buy something we’ve already got.”

  “We’re talkin’ about our rumor business,” Rick said.

  “That again? Y’all are crazy.” Cricket turned her back on them.

  “Now that you know the rules, you will be held accountable.” His eyes sparkled. “This cake looks really good. I love pralines.”

  Cricket’s phone rang, and she fished it from her purse. “Sure I can. Be glad to. See you in the morning.” She turned around. “Elaine needs me to work tomorrow. The high school girl who usually picks up a shift on Saturday has that stomach bug that’s going around.”

  “What about the farmers’ market?” Rick asked.

  “You’ll have to run it by yourself, brother. We need the money too bad for me to turn down shifts, and besides, Elaine has been so good to us. I can’t turn her down,” Cricket said.

  “I love farmers markets. If you want me to, I can help,” Jennie Sue said.

  The whole place went silent. Finally, Lettie spoke up. “You think that’s a good idea with all that’s bein’ said?”

  “I can’t afford to hire help,” Rick said.

  “If we show everyone that we are just friends, then maybe the rumors will stop. And I’ll take out my pay in food. How about another bag of pecans and a watermelon?” Jennie Sue said.

  “Girl, you are gettin’ good at this barterin’,” Nadine said. “Clean a house for your rent and now workin’ for produce. I like it. We used to do a lot of that when I was a girl.”

  “Don’t get started on the old days, Nadine,” Lettie scolded. “We’ll be here all night if you transport her and Amos back in time.”

  “Well, pardon me.” Nadine wiggled her skinny neck better than any teenager that Jennie Sue had ever seen.

  Rick moved over to the table with Amos, and they started talking about something called Little Free Libraries. She’d seen pictures of them on Pinterest. Folks put little boxes on posts in front of their houses and filled them with used books. The idea was to take a book and leave a book so there was always something to read. She thought it was a wonderful notion, even with a library in town. The Little Free Libraries were open twenty-four-seven, and folks could always find something to read that way.

  “Do you have one of those in your front yard?” Jennie Sue asked, sitting down beside Cricket.

  “Yes, we do. It’s Rick’s dream to have them at every house in the whole town. He has this vision of even tourists stoppin’ to use them,” Cricket said, and then leaned over and whispered, “I’m tellin’ you up front, I don’t like the idea of you going to the market with Rick, but he needs help, and I’ve got to do that double shift.”

  “It’s not a date and it’s not every week,” Jennie Sue protested.

  “Thank goodness,” Cricket snapped, and then changed her tone. “Lettie, darlin’, come over here and sit with us girls. Those guys are all plannin’ Rick’s stand idea.” Cricket turned back to Jennie Sue. “I intend to put out the news that y’all had a big argument at the market and you’ve broken off your relationship.”

  “Kind of difficult to break something off that hasn’t even begun.” Jennie Sue’s tone could be every bit as cold as her mother’s.

  “That’s not what the talk in town says—I’m nippin’ it in the bud,” Cricket said.

  “Be careful,” Lettie said in all seriousness. “You might cause a bigger problem than if you let the whole thing die in its sleep. We all know that they’re just friends, and pretty soon everyone else will know it, too.”

  Cricket changed the subject without commenting on Lettie’s advice. “So what’s our book for next month?”

  “I’d like to do a mystery this time. Maybe the newest Sue Grafton?” Nadine offered.

  “How about instead of the newest, we go back and do the first one, A Is for Alibi, and then do one of her newer ones and compare them?” Cricket suggested.

  Jennie Sue didn’t like to read mysteries, and right then, she wasn’t too fond of Cricket. She’d just invent an excuse not to go to the book-club meeting the next month. Maybe by then she’d have a lead on a new job in Dallas or Austin.

  Rick tossed and turned for an hour after he crawled into bed. Finally, he got up, made himself a cup of hot chocolate, and carried it back to his room. Cricket was in a snit, but then, she’d never liked Jennie Sue. She might come around someday, but maybe not. It didn’t matter anyway. He could be friends, even long-distance friends, with Jennie Sue, whether his sister was or not.

  When he awoke before daylight the next morning, he tiptoed around in the house so that he didn’t wake his sister. Elaine had offered Cricket a ride, but she wouldn’t show until a bit before nine o’clock. While he was being considerate, he also didn’t want another lecture. He just wanted to spend the day with Jennie Sue.

  He loaded his truck bed, and an hour later, he parked in Lettie’s driveway, expecting to go up to the door and knock. But Jennie Sue came out of the shadows and got into the truck before he could even shut off the engine.

  “Hello. Don’t you just love the smell of early morning?” She held up a brown paper bag. “I brought a thermos of coffee and biscuits stuffed with sausage. They’re those kind you buy in the frozen-food department, but I promise I cooked the sausage all by myself.”

  “Hey, any woman who can cook biscu
its without burning them is a star in my book.”

  She opened up a plastic container and handed him one. “Don’t judge until you’ve tasted it.”

  “Mmm.” He made appreciative noises at the first bite. “Amazing. You are now invited to go with me every Saturday that you want. I’ll even throw in an extra cantaloupe for the breakfast.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” she said. “But don’t pencil me in for every Saturday. The ladies could need me to drive them somewhere, and I sure wouldn’t want to take Cricket’s job.”

  They ate in silence all the way to the market, where Rick backed his truck up to his regular stall. Jennie Sue was out of the vehicle and had the tailgate down before he could join her.

  “So we put some of each on the table and then keep it replenished as the day goes on, right?” She was already filling one of the small baskets with tomatoes.

  “You sure you haven’t done this before?” He picked up two huge watermelons and set them at the back of the wooden shelf.

  “Nope, but I loved going to the market with Mabel when I was a little kid. I used to play farmers market at home after we’d been. This is going to be a fun day,” she told him.

  Why oh why did she have to be so perfect in every way and so determined to leave Bloom? They were becoming friends, and there was a possibility that could lead to more.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Eight

  Dill sat across the booth from Jennie Sue in the Main Street Café. They’d both ordered the chicken-fried steak special that Sunday afternoon. She didn’t mind the silence between them, yet with her father’s expression and the way he kept sighing, it wasn’t hard to guess that he had something on his mind.

  “Spit it out, Daddy.” She pushed her empty plate back. “You’ve got something on your mind. So let’s clear the air and then go on to more fun things to talk about. I’m dying to tell you all about the farmers’ market and how much fun I had at the book club on Friday night.”

  His gaze locked with hers across the table. “Your mother is mortified about what you are doing.”

  “And you?” Jennie Sue asked.

  “It’s complicated.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t get to use that. It’s my generation’s go-to, not yours.”

  He laid his paper napkin on the plate, picked up a half-empty glass of sweet tea, and took a sip. “But in this case, it’s the only word that describes the problem. Everything about your mother is complicated.”

  “And you?”

  “The same.”

  “From the beginning?” she asked. “Were you both this complicated when you first got married?”

  Dill nodded. “My grandfather Eugene Dillard Baker founded the Baker Oil Company, and it did very well in the days of the oil boom here in Texas.”

  “So I get a history lesson?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “You get the undercurrent of what it really means when I say it’s complicated. Listen and learn. So Gene turns over the company to my father, Robert Dillard, your grandfather Bob, who died when you were a toddler. The bottom fell out of the company, and we were struggling to keep afloat about the time that I finished college. The Wilshires stepped up and were willing to plow a lot of money into the company, but there was a catch—I had to marry your mother. With the marriage, she would retain eighty percent of the company.”

  “I didn’t know they did that kind of thing thirty years ago.” She could hardly believe her ears.

  “Honey, even these days they still do,” he sighed.

  “Percy? Did you pay Percy?” That would explain a lot.

  He nodded. “Not me. I was against it. I kind of liked that boy you brought home from college, but your mama said that she wasn’t havin’ a son-in-law that was constantly trying to analyze her with his psychology stuff, and besides, she thought you could do better. So Charlotte met Percy at some fund-raiser and pushed him toward you with the promise of investing in his sagging diamond business. She lost a good chunk of money when he took off.”

  “She gave him money to marry me?” Jennie Sue’s voice sounded like her mother’s, even in her own ears.

  “Not exactly. She kind of pushed him toward you, and then when he started to back off, she had a talk with him and—dammit, Jennie Sue, I wouldn’t have any part of it. But he said he wanted to support you in the style you were used to, and so your mother wrote him a check to buy into the diamond partnership with his cousin.”

  Dill looked absolutely miserable.

  “So basically, when you get right down to brass tacks, they came to an agreement. Did he propose before or after she gave him the check?”

  He hesitated.

  “It can’t get much worse. I guess somewhere down deep in my heart, I knew all along that something wasn’t right. Tell me,” she demanded in a shrill voice.

  “After it cleared the bank,” Dill said. “In Charlotte’s defense, she wanted to be sure you were taken care of properly. Don’t be angry.”

  “Oh, the naive ship already sailed, Daddy. I’m really, really mad, and I don’t know when I’ll be over it,” she said. Tears welled up, but she’d be damned to hell before she’d let anyone see her cry. Not over this pile of crap. For the first time in her life, Jennie Sue felt like throwing something at a nearby wall.

  Dill had trouble looking her in the eye. “You shouldn’t know it now, but maybe it will help you understand the way things are.”

  “Did you love Mama when you married?”

  “I did.” Sadness peeked around the edges of his smile. “She was so beautiful and full of life. Those first five or six years were amazing. The business was good, and we had you and built our dream house.” He stared out the window as if he were looking back into the past.

  “And then James came home from the service,” Jennie Sue said.

  He jerked his head around so fast that she heard the bones crack. “Who told you about him?”

  “When a person gets out of the glass bubble called the Baker house, they find out all kinds of things. So what happened when James came home?” Her father had been right when he said it was complicated. This whole thing had more layers than a big Vidalia.

  “We hit a rough patch that never got smoothed out.” His voice cracked. “Our bubble burst, and we’ve—evidently you’ve figured out the rest.”

  “I refuse to live like y’all have, Daddy. That’s not the life I want,” she said.

  “Don’t expect you to, but it will take a miracle to ever get your mother to come around to your way of thinkin’, darlin’ girl.” Sadness filled his words. “Maybe I should just go.”

  He should for real, but she couldn’t tell him that. Another layer of guilt lay on her shoulders. She’d blamed him, and even now, he wasn’t totally in the clear because he could have made the choice not to cheat. But at least she was beginning to understand both of her parents’ underlying motives.

  “Stay,” she said. “Daddy, I don’t think I ever had real friends before now. Not in school, where I tried so hard to be the daughter Mama wanted. Not in New York, where I was just arm candy for Percy.”

  “And you think you do now?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I really do, and I don’t think they care about this Wilshire thing, but I’m not planning to stay here. If you won’t give me a job, I’ll go somewhere else. At my age, I need to start building seniority, to have benefits and all that. I need a fresh start where no one even knows me. But I’ve got a feeling the friends I’ve made this week will always keep in touch.”

  “You hang on to them, darlin’. That kind of friendship isn’t easy to come by,” he said wistfully. “And forget the Wilshire curse.”

  “I heard about the beginnings of the Wilshire and Clifford feud,” she said. “So, did Flora have sex with my great-grandfather at the bachelor party?”

  “Have no idea. It was a he said/she said situation, but you know how the rumors go in this town. And call your mama in a few days. She’s got a hot temper, but she cools d
own after a while. In addition to everything else, she’s going to be fifty this fall, and it’s really tough on her to age.” He scooted out of the booth and bent to give Jennie Sue a kiss on the forehead. “Do you need anything? Can I take you home or to your apartment?”

  “Nope. I’m actually doin’ pretty good. After all this, I need to walk and clear my head,” she answered.

  “I’m here if you need me, and I’m sorry,” Dill said.

  He was gone before she could answer. Anger topped the list of all the other emotions that she’d experienced that week. Leaving Bloom might not be so difficult after all.

  Cricket always went straight to the café after church, changed clothes in the restroom, and got right out onto the floor, and she was in a hurry. The parking places were all filled in front of the café, which meant she’d have to park on the next block. But then she saw a truck pull away, and she quickly grabbed that empty space.

  She was running late. People were clustered up around the front of the place waiting for tables or booths. She slid out of the truck and grabbed her purse. In the rush, she didn’t even see the crack in the sidewalk until the spike heel of her favorite Sunday pumps popped right off. Then the heel on the other shoe went out from under her, and she fell flat on her butt right there on Main Street in Bloom, Texas. The first thing she did was look around to see if anyone saw her. For the first time, she was thankful that no one was paying a bit of attention to her.

  She tried to stand up, but her leg hurt so bad that she collapsed. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and her stomach did a couple of flips with nausea. From the acute pain in her ankle, she figured it was broken. She jerked at her skirt so that her underpants weren’t showing, but it was tangled up around her waist. Everything started spinning around her so fast that it was hard to focus—and then she heard Jennie Sue’s voice.

  “Stay with me. I’ll call 911,” she said.

  Cricket opened her eyes and grabbed Jennie Sue’s hand. “Don’t. Insurance won’t cover it. Just take me to the emergency room.”

  “I don’t have a car.” Jennie Sue started digging in her purse.