Small Town Rumors

by Carolyn Brown

  “Okay, then, follow me.”

  She grabbed Rick’s hand and held on tightly as they entered a long hallway. The doctor turned a corner and then opened the first door on the left, with Jennie Sue right behind him. Rick let go of her hand and stood back to let her go inside alone with the doctor. Her chest tightened when the doctor shut the door, leaving her friends on the other side.

  I can do this alone. I need to do this alone. It’s the only way I’ll ever have closure, she told herself.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, and he carefully pulled back the first sheet. “Your mother sustained a head wound and was killed instantly. She did not suffer.”

  She stood there for a long time, tears running in rivers down her cheeks and dripping onto her dress. Finally, she reached out and touched Charlotte’s hair. “My beautiful mama. You won’t ever be old or have to worry about wrinkles again. You’ll always be young and gorgeous. I love you, Mama.”

  “Ready to move on?” the doctor asked.

  She nodded. “Goodbye, Mama,” she said softly as she took two steps to the other table.

  When she saw her daddy, so still and lifeless with a huge cut on his chin, she groaned and let the next batch of tears loose.

  “His neck snapped when the plane crashed. Death was instantaneous for him, too.”

  “See you later, Daddy,” she whispered as she bent and kissed his cold cheek.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cricket was dressed and trying to do something with her unruly, almost curly, not quite straight, hair when Jennie Sue rapped on the bedroom door. Wearing a cute little sleeveless black dress that stopped at her knee and a pair of plain leather flats, Jennie Sue looked like she’d just stepped off a fashion runway.

  “Need some help with your hair? We’ve got thirty minutes before the Belles arrive, and I’m antsy,” Jennie Sue asked.

  “I’d love help, but you’re always so cool and collected. I can’t even begin to imagine you nervous,” Cricket said.

  “Those women are going to try to make me join their club. It’s written in the charter that when a mother passes, her daughter steps up to take her place. I’ll get the curling iron from my room and be right back.”

  For years Cricket had wondered what it would be like to be in the circle that Jennie Sue ran in. To be invited to slumber parties where they’d all fix one another’s hair and do makeup. Now it was happening, and she wasn’t so sure how she felt about any of it. Maybe it was because she and Jennie Sue were both twenty-eight. All that high school popularity didn’t matter anymore.

  “Got it.” Jennie Sue plugged the iron into the wall and laid it on the vanity. “Have a seat in front of the mirror.”

  Cricket sat down and sighed at her reflection. She should just pull her hair up into a ponytail. It didn’t matter if she was a wallflower that evening—this wasn’t about her. It was about helping Jennie Sue get through the whole night with a bunch of people that she wasn’t comfortable around. “Why don’t you want to join the Belles? Your mama would want you to carry on her legacy.”

  While the curling iron heated up, Jennie Sue ran a brush through Cricket’s hair. “Yes, she would. Just like my grandmother expected Mama to fill her shoes. But I’m just not Belle material. I might have been ten years ago or even six years ago, but not now. I’ve got an idea—you can join the Belles in my place.”

  “Not me. Those women intimidate me,” Cricket laughed. “Look at us bein’ good enough friends that you are offerin’ me your place on the Sweetwater Belles.”

  “Honey, that probably means that we are what they call frenemies these days. I was teasin’. I would only wish that on my worst enemy.” Jennie Sue laid the brush aside and picked up the curling iron.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.” Jennie Sue shivered. “Big bouncy curls or straight?”

  “What?”

  “Your hair? How do you want it?”

  “Curls.” Cricket felt more than a little guilty about Jennie Sue styling her hair. “I should be fixin’ your hair. How do you do it?”

  “What? Fix hair or not fall to pieces right now?”

  Cricket pointed at her hair.

  “I had to learn. Percy didn’t like the way the beauty shop did it, and it had to be perfect—always—not only when we went out or had an event. He had his good points, but somehow they got lost in his controlling nature.” Jennie Sue tamed Cricket’s hair with a few twists of the curling iron and then twirled the stool around to look at her work. “You have the most unusual shade of green eyes. With just a touch of dark-green eye shadow, they’d pop right out.”

  “I’ve always worn blue,” Cricket said. “But I was talkin’ about you takin’ care of everyone else when we should be takin’ care of you.”

  “You are takin’ care of me,” Jennie Sue said. “I’d be all alone if you and Rick weren’t stayin’ with me, and if you didn’t let me go to the farm, I’d probably be crazy.” She picked up a palette of eye shadow from the vanity. “Mind if I try green?”

  “Not at all.” Cricket couldn’t very well tell her that the reason she’d worn blue since they were in school was because that’s what Jennie Sue wore all the time.

  When Jennie Sue finished, she swung her around to face the mirror. “I applied a little blush to your cheeks.”

  “Oh. My. Goodness!” Cricket gasped. “I’m almost pretty.”

  “You are beautiful with or without makeup.” Jennie Sue flipped one curl forward over Cricket’s shoulder.

  Cricket felt the heat rising to her face but could do nothing about it. “I’m just a plain Jane, but you’ve done wonders.”

  “You are whatever and whoever your self-confidence allows you to be, Cricket. When you walk into a room, act as if you own the whole house, not just that room. Paste on a smile, even if it’s fake, and never tug at your skirt or mess with your necklace. That shows insecurity,” Jennie Sue said. “That comes straight from my mother on my way to my first Belle meeting when I was sixteen.”

  “So the daughters get to go to the meetings?”

  Jennie Sue sat down on the end of the bed. “Once a year at Christmas, so that we’d learn the ropes.”

  “Did the husbands get to go to the meetings?”

  “Nope.” Jennie Sue shook her head, and not a single curl fell out of place. “They were allowed to attend the July Fourth barbecue here at our place, but that was the extent of their participation in the Belles. You got to remember, though, they started the club when women didn’t work and needed women friends so they could bitch and moan about their husbands and relatives.”

  “And now?”

  “Some of them have jobs, but the bitchin’ and moanin’ stayed the same.”

  “Then, no, thank you. I’ll just be a member of the book club at Amos’s store and call that enough. My nerves couldn’t handle all the stuff that goes on to be a Belle,” Cricket said.

  “Tell me something. What changed your mind about me?” Jennie Sue asked.

  “Lettie and Nadine did. It just took a little while for what they said to soak in. Again, I’m sorry for being rude.”

  “So you don’t hate me anymore?”

  Cricket shook her head and answered honestly, “Not as much as before.”

  Jennie Sue stood up and straightened a simple gold chain around her neck. “Fair enough.”

  Cricket rose up off the vanity stool. “Don’t mess with your necklace. It shows that you don’t have self-esteem.”

  “Noted.” Jennie Sue nodded and smiled at Cricket echoing her words.

  Sugar and Mary Lou arrived first again, each carrying a fancy platter with food. Sugar had cute little chicken-salad sandwiches cut in perfect triangles with the crust removed. Mary Lou brought in iced sugar cookies with a fancy C monogram on each one. They went straight to the dining room, put their offerings on the table, and then turned to have a group hug with Jennie Sue.

  “Oh, darlin’, this just breaks our hearts.
We’ve done nothing but weep for two whole days. Charlotte was the very center of the Belles, and we don’t know how we’ll be able to go on without her.” Sugar sniffled.

  Mary Lou took a step back and kissed her on the cheek. “You will simply have to fill her shoes. I’m sure you know exactly where her scrapbook is, and you’ll keep it up to date. We’ll have an induction ceremony at next month’s meeting. And who is this?” She turned her attention to Cricket.

  “My friend Cricket Lawson. She and her brother are staying with me until tomorrow.” Jennie Sue made introductions.

  “Are you from New York?” Sugar eyed Cricket from her toes to her hair.

  “No, she’s from right here in Bloom. I graduated from high school with her. Y’all might remember her father, Richard Lawson. I believe he went to school with my dad and some of you, and he played basketball,” Jennie Sue answered.

  “Nope, the name doesn’t ring a bell,” Mary Lou said. “What’s the matter with your foot?”

  “I fell,” Cricket answered. “I’m not sure who’s takin’ care of who, but we’re managing, aren’t we, Jennie Sue?”

  “You bet we are. Oh, there’s the doorbell. Excuse me.” Jennie Sue turned to Cricket and said under her breath, “If it gets to be too much, slip out to the porch. There’s a bar out there, too.”

  Escaped that, she thought as she took a deep breath and opened the door to find Belinda with her plate of vegetables and dip.

  “Oh, Jennie Sue, how are we going to get through this? Charlotte’s such a good friend and a wonderful person and I can’t imagine life without her.” She leaned in to kiss Jennie Sue on the cheek. “Charlotte does—I mean, did—help with so much.” She handed the plate to Jennie Sue and dabbed her eyes with a linen handkerchief. “I just can’t think of her in the past tense.”

  “I may never be able to think that way,” Jennie Sue admitted.

  Mabel laid a hand on Jennie Sue’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ll take over the job of manning the door now. I’m finished in the kitchen.”

  “I’d rather man the door or hide in the corner,” Jennie Sue said.

  “But that’s not what you should do. You go on and visit with everyone. This is a good thing you are doing. It will bring a little closure to a lot of people.” Mabel put her hands on Jennie Sue’s shoulders and turned her toward the living room. “It’s only for an hour or so.”

  She did what she was told. She mingled among the people, hugging some and shaking hands with others. She caught bits of conversation as she moved around the room shaking hands, giving hugs, and being nice. Folks wondering if she’d be able to hold the oil business together, if Percy would come back and try to win her heart again, what she’d do with the big house, and if she’d still continue with her silly house cleaning jobs.

  Finally, after a while, she escaped to the porch. She’d bypassed the bar and headed straight to an empty lounge chair when Cricket reached up and touched her hand. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be playin’ nice with all the people?”

  “I can’t stand any more. Move over and share the lounge with me.”

  Cricket scooted to one side, and Jennie Sue stretched out beside her, finding comfort in being close to a new friend—one free of the history foaming in the other room.

  “Want a beer?” Cricket asked. “I helped myself to a bottle.”

  “I don’t want to get it. Someone might see me, and the party will flow out here,” Jennie Sue whispered. “I’d just rather sit here beside you for a while.”

  Cricket handed her bottle over to Jennie Sue. “We can share.”

  She took it from her and downed several long gulps. “You’re not afraid of my uppity germs?”

  “Not if you aren’t afraid you’ll get cooties from me,” Cricket said. “I’m not sure what I expected tonight, but it wasn’t this.”

  She handed the bottle back to Cricket. “Me neither. Most of them aren’t even talkin’ about Mama or Daddy.”

  “Someone asked me if you were going to run the company yourself or if you would only be a figurehead,” Cricket whispered.

  “I haven’t let myself think about that. I’m just trying to get through the funeral. What would you do?” Jennie Sue asked.

  Cricket took a drink and passed the bottle back to her. “Don’t ask me about a decision that big. I might give you the wrong advice. Just this house intimidates the devil out of me. I can’t imagine owning it and the cars and a multimillion-dollar oil company.”

  “Me neither,” Jennie Sue sighed.

  “I heard one of those Belle ladies fussin’ about there not bein’ a memorial. She thought it was disgraceful and totally inappropriate,” Cricket said. “I thought about tripping her with my crutch.”

  “Tough. I bet they won’t like it when I pass on joining the Belles, either.” Jennie Sue finished off the beer and set the bottle on the floor. “Money is not the most important thing in the world. I’ve proven that these past few weeks.”

  “But it’s nice to have enough that you don’t have to worry whether to buy fries with your burger at the café,” Cricket told her.

  Jennie Sue let that soak in for a few minutes before she slung her legs to the side of the lounge and said, “Let’s don’t think about pennies and dimes tonight. Let’s get through this next half hour. They’ll all leave by then, and Rick will be back from the farm pretty soon. I vote that we have a late-night swim in the pool.”

  She knew he had to harvest. After all, he’d let it go the night before, but she missed him. He steadied her nerves just by standing beside her. This was the last night she planned to stay in the house.

  “Can’t go swimming. No bathing suit,” Cricket said.

  “There’s plenty in the bathhouse. All sizes and shapes.” The thought of skinny-dipping and a picture of the swimming hole flashed through her mind. Then she felt guilty all over again for thinking of that at such a time.

  “Then you’ve got a deal as long as I can stay out here and not have to go back in there with the mob.” Cricket grinned.

  Jennie Sue sighed. “Mob is right, in more ways than one.”

  Just as she’d predicted, the house was empty in another half hour. She sent Mabel home with the promise that she’d put away the perishable snacks before she went to bed. “And you stay home tomorrow. If we want something to eat, we’ll either eat what’s here, cook for ourselves, or go to the café. Besides, I’m going back to my apartment tomorrow, so you don’t have to cook for anyone or do much around here.”

  “No arguments here,” Mabel agreed. “I’m so tired, my butt is draggin’. I may not even make it to church tomorrow. I overheard lots of talk about what you intend to do with the company tonight. My advice would be to listen to your heart.”

  “I intend to do just that, now shoo! Go home and get some rest.” Jennie Sue hugged her.

  “And don’t get in a hurry about anything, darlin’. You need to think about things before you act,” Mabel said as she headed out the back door.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jennie Sue called out.

  Rick came inside seconds after Mabel left. “I stopped to talk to Frank in the garage just as the last of the cars left.”

  “Hungry?” Jennie Sue asked. “There’s lots of food left.”

  “Yep.” He nodded.

  “Me, too,” Jennie Sue said. “All those people made me nervous, and I couldn’t eat. Let’s go sit down at the table and have some food. I’ll get Cricket in from the porch, and after we eat we’re going swimming.”

  “No bathing suit,” he said.

  “No worries. We keep a closet full of them in the bathhouse.”

  Rick’s hands began to sweat, and suddenly he didn’t think he could swallow a single bite of food. He’d always worn long-sleeve shirts to cover his scars, only rolling them up halfway to his elbows when it got really hot. Jennie Sue knew he had scars, but she’d only seen the one on his jawline. What was between him and her would be over before it had hardly even gotten started if she saw
his body. He needed more time with her before he took this step. He couldn’t go out there in swim trunks—he just couldn’t.

  It’s time to come out of your shell. It sounded an awful lot like his father’s voice in his head. It’s part of you.

  “I can’t,” he whispered.

  “Can’t what? Are you hungry? I couldn’t eat with all those people here, so we can have something together.” Jennie Sue took him by the hand and led him to the dining room table.

  “I should wash up.” He avoided answering her questions. “I’ll be right back.” He escaped to the restroom, where he spent several minutes staring at his reflection in the mirror and trying to think up a plausible excuse for not swimming.

  You are acting like a sophomore with a pimple at prom time. This time it was his mother’s voice in his head. Jennie Sue has proven to be an amazing, compassionate friend. Get over yourself.

  “Okay,” he said. “I guess it’s time to swim or drown.”

  Cricket and Jennie Sue were already eating when he arrived at the table, so he took a seat across from them and picked up a plate. “It all looks good. Where do I begin?”

  “With those little chicken sandwiches,” Cricket said. “I wonder who made them. They are scrumptious. I’ve had half a dozen, but they’re only bite-size, so it’s really not even a whole sandwich.”

  Jennie Sue reached for another tiny sandwich. “Come on, Cricket. You know who makes these. You work for Elaine. Surely, you’ve eaten them before. Sugar has been buying them for years, even back when Elaine did some catering for a few choice folks. She also made those cookies and those pinwheel-rollup things with the cream cheese and ham and the little thumbprint cookies. And the vegetable tray and the fruit tray.”

  “Nope, I had no idea Elaine did anything like this on the side. She should put these on the menu,” Cricket said.

  “How do you know all this?” Rick asked.

  “There’s a secret to this kind of thing,” Jennie Sue said. “You pay someone else to do the work. Then you put it on a fancy platter and make it look all pretty, and the last thing is to slap a fancy little sticker on the bottom with your name on it so the person can return the plate. Mama’s famous for her fried chicken, but she’s never stood over a skillet of grease in her life. It comes from Kentucky Fried Chicken in Sweetwater.”