Small Town Rumors

by Carolyn Brown

  “Might have even knocked some sense into her,” Lettie snorted. “Anyone as cantankerous as she is right now can’t be hurt too bad. And I’m not goin’ to feel sorry for you one bit because you have to wear a hospital gown home.”

  Nadine shook a finger at the doctor. “Don’t you charge me for this ugly thing. I’ll wash it and bring it back to you, but when I see my itemized bill, this better not be on it.”

  Jennie Sue could imagine the argument if they charged Nadine for the faded gown and hoped that she was around when the bill came.

  Chapter Twelve

  How’s Nadine?” Cricket asked first thing that Friday night when Jennie Sue and Rick entered the house. “I’ve talked to her twice today, and she says she’s sore and got a bruise on her shoulder—and that aliens pushed her out of the tree. Did it do something to her brain?”

  “Same thing she tells me and Lettie. She hasn’t told you about the aliens before now?” Jennie Sue kicked off her shoes at the door.

  “No, what’s she talkin’ about?” Cricket straightened up and leaned forward.

  “She and Lettie think that outer-space people can listen in on our technology.” Jennie Sue grinned. “Like on cell phones and X-ray machines.” She headed to the kitchen to make supper. After a week, she’d pretty much gotten things set into a routine. She kept it fairly simple so she and Rick could get out to the garden early enough to harvest the crops for a few hours before dark.

  “Just because we’re barely friends doesn’t mean you should know stuff about Lettie and Nadine that I don’t.” Cricket picked up her crutches and went to the kitchen with Jennie Sue.

  “I’m surprised that you didn’t already know,” Jennie Sue said.

  Rick pulled out two chairs—one for Cricket to sit in, the other to prop her foot on. “Lettie told me to tell you that the ladies at the church meetin’ missed you yesterday and they were prayin’ for you.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet,” Cricket said. “If I promise to keep my foot propped up, can I go to the farmers’ market tomorrow?”

  Well, praise the Lord and kiss the angels! Cricket was showing a kind side to her personality.

  Jennie Sue glanced over at Rick. She’d loved going with him the week before and had looked forward to Saturday all week, but Cricket could take money and make change while sitting. It had helped her to go to the bookstore, but not nearly as many people came in after that first day, and it would give her an outing.

  “I think that would be a great idea,” Jennie Sue agreed. “I’ve been procrastinating about going to see Mama, and it will be a good day to do that.”

  “Rick?” Cricket looked past Jennie Sue at her brother.

  “Don’t see why not, if you keep your foot iced and propped up,” he answered. “Right now I’m going out to the melon field and get what we need to take to the market. Be back by the time supper is ready.”

  He’d barely cleared the door when Cricket blurted out, “Everyone thinks you are some kind of angel with a halo and wings, but I know better, Jennie Sue Baker. You’ve got to have an angle in all this.”

  “All what? And why would I have an angle in anything at all? I’m not that kind of person.”

  “Bein’ nice to Lettie and Nadine when they’re your mama’s enemies. Bein’ nice to me and Rick when we aren’t anywhere near your league. People are talkin’ even worse than when you came home and word got out that Percy left you. They’ve got bets goin’.”

  “Bets on what? That I’m stayin’ or goin’? And what are you betting, Cricket?”

  “That you’re using the whole bunch of us to make your daddy give you a job in his oil company. Charlotte is mortified, and she’ll do anything to get things right in her fancy world again. So when she comes home, she’ll fall all over herself to let you have your way about a job, and you’ll never speak to any of us again,” Cricket answered. “As for me, I don’t care, because I’m not believin’ one bit of this, but I hate to see Rick hurt. Not to mention Lettie and Nadine.”

  “You really think I’m that kind of person?” Jennie Sue set a skillet on the stove and added oil to fry okra. “And why would Rick be hurt? Even if I did go to work, it wouldn’t mean that I wouldn’t remain friends with him or with Lettie and Nadine. And maybe barely friends with you.”

  “I thought we were civil friends,” Cricket argued.

  Jennie Sue came back with, “You’re the one who just used the term barely friends, not me.”

  “Well, it just slipped out. ‘Civil friends’ sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it? But you were one person in high school, and now you are pretending to be another altogether.”

  “Maybe I was pretending in high school, trying to fit into the mold that I’d been given from birth. Maybe I didn’t like that world or the one I got when I got married. And maybe I like this world a lot better,” she said as she kept working. “How are Lettie and Nadine betting?”

  “They both think you have glitter on your wings, but they’re old,” Cricket said.

  “You better not let either of them hear that.” At least her two sweet friends didn’t think she was using them.

  “And before you ask,” Cricket went on, “Rick won’t listen to rumors. I don’t know where he stands.”

  Jennie Sue sautéed bell peppers and onions in a second skillet to make meatballs for supper. Served over rice and with okra, sliced tomatoes, and cucumbers, it was one of Percy’s favorite meals. The idea of him coming home to their fancy apartment, expecting the table to be set perfectly and his food ready to serve, made her think again of the friends they’d had in New York. Ladies she’d served on fund-raising committees with, those she’d gone shopping with or out to lunch with. They’d all forsaken her when he got into trouble and fled with his new girlfriend. So three friends who believed in her in spite of her past seemed like a pretty big blessing to her that evening.

  “You don’t have anything to say?” Cricket asked.

  Jennie Sue shook her head. “All the talk in the world won’t change your mind or the minds of people in town, so no, I don’t have anything to say. What would you say if our roles were reversed and you were in my shoes?”

  “I’d damn sure say something. What people think of you can have a big bearing on the way your life turns out.”

  “Oh, really? People thought I was a privileged person, and look what I’m doin’ for a livin’,” Jennie Sue said. “I’m cleanin’ houses, reorganizing a used-book store, pickin’ vegetables in the evening, and puttin’ up with a barely friend. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m doin’ my own hair and fingernails, and I only have one color of polish.”

  Cricket glanced down at her bare feet, and Jennie Sue followed her gaze.

  “Your toenails look like crap, but Mama would stroke out if she could see mine. Want me to do them for you after we get done with the harvest tonight?”

  Cricket fiddled with her bandage and bit at her lower lip. “Are you crazy? Why would you do that after what I just told you?”

  “What you said has nothing to do with your nails, does it?” Jennie Sue asked.

  She looked down at her feet. “They are in a mess.”

  “Then let’s take care of them. Do you have a file and polish and maybe some decent lotion?”

  Cricket pointed toward a closed door. “In a shoe box on the shelf in my closet.”

  “Good. Then we’ll make them pretty after I get done with the crops.” She handed Cricket a knife and a small bowl of washed vegetables. “Make yourself useful instead of bitchin’ about everything. You can slice tomatoes and cucumbers while you are sitting there.”

  Cricket raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to trust me with a knife?”

  “I can run faster than you can,” Jennie Sue said.

  If someone had told her ten years ago that Jennie Sue Baker would ever be sitting in her house doing her toenails, Cricket would have asked them what they’d been drinking. But there she was on the floor with a pan of warm water, towels, and a shoe box fu
ll of Cricket’s nail supplies.

  Jennie Sue handed her the small box. “Pick your color while I get them trimmed and the cuticles in shape. I can also do french nails if you want those.”

  “Do I get to pick a color for my toenails when you get hers done?” Rick asked.

  Jennie Sue nodded seriously. “Red would be real nice on you.”

  Good Lord, were they flirting? Cricket rolled her eyes.

  “No, thank you,” Rick said.

  “Ah, come on. Be adventurous.” Jennie Sue wrapped Cricket’s bum foot in a hot, wet towel.

  “No, thank you. All the other guys in town would be jealous. You’d have a line from one end of Main Street to the other of men wanting their nails done,” Rick told her.

  “I’ve still got Sunday afternoons fairly free. I could do nails then.” Jennie Sue grinned.

  Yes, they were definitely flirting. Cricket sighed. But she wouldn’t think about that now, not when Jennie Sue was giving her an amazing mani-pedi. This might raise her status to a barely friend for sure.

  After a couple of minutes, Jennie Sue removed the towel and dropped it into the hot water, then she started to work on Cricket’s toenails. “Do you like them square or rounded?”

  “Round,” Cricket answered.

  “Me, too. Never could get used to those square things,” Jennie Sue said.

  A memory of Percy telling her that her nails looked like an old lady’s flashed through her mind. She’d come home from the salon, where she’d had them painted a pale pink to go with a dress she planned to wear to a party that evening.

  “Modern women wear bright colors and square nails. And good God, Jennifer”—he’d never called her Jennie Sue because that sounded too redneck for him—“whoever did that horrible job left a dab of polish on your big toe. That’s unacceptable.”

  She’d learned to do her own nails from then on. Unacceptable in his world was the worst thing in the whole universe.

  When she finished with that foot, she stood up. “Now scoot forward while I go get more warm water. The polish should be dry enough so that it won’t smear.”

  “Looks like you’ve done this before,” Rick said.

  “Lots of times,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you have yours done professionally?” Cricket asked.

  “I did for a while,” Jennie Sue said. “By doing them myself I didn’t have to smell all those awful chemicals.”

  “Amen to that,” Cricket said. “So you definitely aren’t leaving Bloom to go into the nail business.”

  “Nope, hopefully I’m leaving to get a start somewhere on the bottom rung of a corporate ladder if I’m lucky,” she answered.

  “And if not?”

  “Then as a glorified secretary in a used-car dealership,” Jennie Sue answered. “What about you, Cricket? If you could be anything in life, what would it be?”

  “What I really want to be . . .” Cricket paused.

  “She wants to be a gossip columnist. If you can make that happen, then I’d like for you to invent a time machine so I can go back and sidestep the bomb that turned me into a disabled veteran,” Rick said. “That way I’d still be a whole man doin’ what I love in the military.”

  “I want to someday make cupcakes for my kids like my mama did for us. We always had something homemade for an after-school snack,” Cricket blurted out.

  Jennie Sue was shocked that Cricket would admit that much in front of her. “I could go for one of your mama’s cupcakes right now, maybe even two or three.”

  “To have kids, I’ll need a husband. Rick says I’ll never find anyone who can put up with my bluntness,” Cricket said.

  Jennie Sue jerked her head around to face Cricket. “What’s the matter with that? At least people know where they stand with you and that you won’t turn your back on them.”

  “Speakin’ from experience?” Cricket asked.

  “More than once.” Jennie Sue nodded. “Now prop your foot up here on my knee and we’ll get this one done and go on to your fingernails.”

  It was almost ten o’clock when Cricket said, “Thank you for everything, Jennie Sue. It’s past time for Rick to take you home. The news tomorrow will be that you’ve stayed out here later than usual and that he might have to make an honest woman out of you.”

  Rick felt the heat start on his neck and climb all the way to his cheeks. “What a time to find out my sister has a sense of humor.”

  “I reckon my reputation can handle another black mark,” Jennie Sue said.

  “But mine can’t. Someone might think I was changing my mind about you,” Cricket said with her usual sarcasm as she tucked her crutches under her arms. “See you bright and early in the morning, Rick. I’m lookin’ forward to going to the market and seeing all the people.”

  “Well, honey”—Jennie Sue’s tone was saccharine sweet—“when they find out that we spent the evening doing your nails, they’re going to know that we’re friends.”

  “I’m not tellin’ anyone that, and if you do, I’ll take back the barely friends promotion,” Cricket said.

  Rick couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not and didn’t want get into it with her. He turned to Jennie Sue and said, “Thanks for what you do for us. You ready to go home?”

  “Not just yet. I’d like a glass of sweet tea.” Jennie Sue took down her ponytail and raked her fingers through her long, blonde hair.

  Mesmerized by her actions, Rick wished that his hands were the ones tangled up in her hair. He blinked half a dozen times and finally got to his feet. “I’ll take care of the tea while you dump the water.”

  She was sitting on the end of the sofa when he returned. He handed her a full glass of sweet tea and sat down on the other end. “I was surprised to hear Cricket admit that she wanted to be a wife and mother. She’s always told me that she wanted to be a gossip columnist.”

  “Dreams change with age.” She took a long drink of her tea.

  Rick set his glass on the end table, picked up her feet, and put them in his lap. He started massaging her left foot, digging deep into the heel.

  “You’ve missed your callin’,” she groaned. “You should be a masseur.”

  He finished with that foot and picked up the right one. “It was really nice of you to step back and let Cricket go to the market with me tomorrow after you’d already made plans to go. I’d offer to take both of you, but one would have to ride in the back of the truck with the produce.”

  She nodded toward the other side of the room. “You could put that rockin’ chair over there in the bed of the truck, and everyone could say I was Granny Clampett from The Beverly Hillbillies.”

  Rick laughed out loud. “Well, you do have the fancy house. Do you have possums and raccoons livin’ out there?”

  “Yes, I do.” Her blue eyes glimmered. “But don’t tell Mama. Mabel and I’ve kept it a secret for years.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can just see Charlotte Baker if she found a possum in her living room.”

  “We keep them in the garage.” Jennie Sue continued the joke as she laid her head back on the sofa and shut her eyes. “Frank feeds them.” She yawned and her eyes fluttered shut.

  He stared at her for a long time, not wanting to wake her and yet knowing that he should. He wanted to look at her a little longer, so he moved to a recliner and carefully popped up the footrest. Several hours later he awoke to find Cricket glaring at him with a hand on her hip.

  “What in the hell is going on in here? Don’t you have a lick of sense, Rick? People are going to see you takin’ her home at daybreak. She’s going to make a complete fool out of you.” Her voice was so shrill and loud that no one could ever sleep through it.

  “That’s enough,” Rick said calmly. “Nothing happened. We fell asleep, and if you’ll stop worryin’ about what people think or talk about, you’d notice that we are both fully dressed and that she’s on the sofa and I’m in a chair.”

  Jennie Sue sat up and put her hand ove
r a yawn. “Is that sin so big it’ll keep me out of heaven? Is it really mornin’?”

  “And if something did happen, which it didn’t”—Rick popped the footrest down on the recliner—“we are two consenting adults, and it wouldn’t be a bit of anyone’s business.”

  Cricket tried to stomp her good foot and almost fell before she got her balance back. “It’s my business. I live here in this house, too. And for your information, brother, I was the one who stayed here and helped out while you went off to your precious military and secret missions. I picked beans with Daddy and kept house and held down a job,” she said.

  Rick stood and headed toward the bathroom. “Yes, you did. Where shall I send the gold medal? Or would you prefer platinum?”

  “Don’t you leave when I’m talkin’ to you,” Cricket shouted.

  Jennie Sue sat up and put on her shoes.

  Cricket turned on her. “Where are you going?”

  “If I want to listen to bitchin’ and yellin’, I can move back in with my mother,” Jennie Sue answered. “I’m going out to the truck. When y’all get through with this fight, I’d appreciate a ride home.”

  “Why did you have to drag us into your messy life? We were doin’ just fine without you in town,” Cricket groaned.

  “Cricket, I’d love to be your friend, but it looks like that’s impossible. Since I’ve embarrassed you so badly that you rant at your brother like that, I won’t be coming back out here. I never want to be the cause of such mean things being said to Rick,” Jennie Sue said.

  “I’m so sorry.” Rick came out of the bathroom. “I could hear everything. Let’s get you home. Thanks for all you’ve done. It would have been a tough week without you.”

  He tried several times to start a conversation on the drive from the farm to Lettie’s place, but he had no idea how to even begin. Jennie Sue probably hated him for not waking her and for getting so personal with that foot massage. And if that wasn’t enough, Cricket had been horrible. When they finally arrived, and he’d parked outside the garage, he turned to face her.