Sweet Tea and Secrets

by Nancy Naigle

  “No one said you had to sleep out here.”

  “We already discussed that. You’re too long.”

  “You could sleep in the bed with me. I don’t bite.”

  She rolled her eyes and took another sip, feeling too grumpy to respond.

  “What are your plans today?”

  “Don’t have any.”

  “Good. Get out of those pajamas.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Excuse me.”

  “Go get dressed. I want to take you somewhere.”

  She lifted a brow.

  “Are you going to argue with me about everything?”

  She didn’t like anyone telling her what to do, or planning for her, but then she needed a favor so maybe she could work the situation to her advantage. “Well, that depends.”

  “On what?” he asked.

  “I need to take Lindy’s car up to Virginia Tech tomorrow. If I go with you today, will you follow me up there tomorrow and bring me back?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Pleased with the deal, she gulped the last of the coffee and handed him the mug. “Cool. Give me five minutes.”

  “I’ll feed Clyde, and meet you in the truck.”

  She put on a purple tank top tucked into khaki shorts and headed for the truck. By the time she climbed in, Garrett was already behind the wheel with the air on.

  Without a word between them, he headed toward town.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He veered his truck along the curb and parallel-parked in front of Spratt’s Market.

  “You’re taking me grocery shopping? You’re a fun date.” She went for the door handle, but he stopped her.

  “This isn’t the final destination smarty-pants. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  He left the truck running while he ducked through the blue door. When he came out, he had a tall brown grocery bag in his arms. He opened the back door of the truck and placed it behind his seat.

  Jill couldn’t see over the seat into the bag. “What are you up to?”

  “When did you become such a worry wart? Relax and enjoy the ride.”

  She leaned back in the seat and let out a huff. He was right, she was acting uptight. Fixing a stare on the puffy clouds, she tried to relax as he pulled the truck back on the road.

  Garrett turned down Horseshoe Run Road. Her heart flipped. The hairs on her arms prickled.

  She glanced in his direction. He must have read the terror in her expression, because he reached across and patted her leg.

  “It’s going to be okay.” He slowed the truck near the burial site in the church cemetery, then went around to her door and opened it offering her his hand.

  She hesitated, then put her hand in his and climbed down. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she admitted.

  “I’m here. Come on.” He reached past her, scrounged around in the big bag, and lifted out a huge bouquet of daisies.

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Her favorite.” He took Jill’s hand and led her into the grass.

  They walked slowly toward the spot where Pearl had been buried. One day soon a beautiful marble headstone would mark this spot, but for now a cement urn served as a temporary marker. CLEMMONS printed in straight block letters marked the metal plate affixed to the urn. Years ago, Jill and the rest of the youth group had washed cars all summer to collect enough money to buy these markers for the church. The project had been her personal mission that year. They’d met and beaten the goal of six cement urns with the special smooth inlay for the temporary names. The group had been able to sponsor a family for the Christmas holiday with the remaining funds: a tree, dinner and even bikes for the two boys.

  Garrett and Jill knelt at the side of the still freshly turned ground. Garrett picked a bright yellow daisy out of the bouquet, tucked it behind Jill’s ear, then arranged the rest in the cement urn, fussing with them until they scattered just right.

  “Thank you,” she said as he took a knee beside her.

  They held hands quietly for a long time. There was no rush and nothing more important than being right here, right now. A sense of peace washed over her, like Pearl was near. Jill swept away the tears with her free hand and clung to Garrett’s with the other.

  “The day of the funeral, I didn’t notice any other markers around here.” A single narrow monument spiked from the ground just to the left of them. Only initials. No dates. “At least she won’t be alone.”

  “She’s not alone. You know that.”

  Jill smiled, her lips quivering. “She’s probably giving God advice right now.” She hugged her arms around herself.

  Garrett leaned over and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Ready to go?” he asked gently.

  “Yes,” she whispered as she stood. He took her hand and led her back to the truck. Jill stared out the window toward the burial site as Garrett eased the pickup off the church property and back onto the main road.

  “You’re so thoughtful. Thank you for doing that with me.” He never misses a beat.

  He took a left at the end of Riverkeeper Road.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked.

  “You didn’t think that’s all I had planned, did ya’?”

  “There’s more? What have I gotten myself into?”

  He motioned toward the big paper bag in the back. “Take a look.”

  She gave him the evil eye. Unable to reach the bag from the safety of her seatbelt, she unbuckled it and climbed on her knees to reach the bag. She reached deep inside, laughing as she lifted out the familiar white Styrofoam container. She spun back around in the seat. “Are you trying to bait me?” She held up the cup. “Bait me, get it?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Is it working?” He raised his brow in an exaggerated movement. “They’re night crawlers. That give you any ideas?”

  “You wish.” She shifted her shoulders playfully. “You’re takin’ me fishing, aren’t you?”

  “I thought it would be a relaxing way to spend the afternoon. Any complaints?”

  “Not a one. You know how much I love fishing. Whoever catches the biggest fish gets out of fish gutting duty. Or are you a catch and release kind of guy these days,” she taunted him.

  “We eat what we catch. You’re on, and I’m not releasing anything.”

  “My kind of guy.”

  He parked the truck alongside the boat ramp on the Meherrin River and unloaded fishing poles and gear from the tool box on the back of his truck. It was always more comfortable in the summer down here by the water. A calm swept over Jill as she stepped down the incline to carry the gear down to the boat at the dock.

  They climbed in and trolled down the bank line to the “sweet spot,” where there were a couple of fallen trees tangled in the water providing perfect cover for the big fish. Garrett handed Jill a rod and they both started rigging the hooks and bobbers.

  “Got your knife,” Jill asked, holding a hook and line in her hand.

  “Got my pants on, don’t I?” Garrett tossed his knife her way. “Need any help?”

  She flashed him her best smile, and raised a brow. “Hardly. Hasn’t been that long, country boy.” She fell back into their old banter easily. “Of course, I don’t know if this fishing line is going to be tough enough for the fish I’m going to be reeling in.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Take it any way you like.” She casted into the smooth river first—a good cast, too.

  They spent the whole day on the water. There wasn’t much talking to do, which was the best part of fishing. Garrett pointed out an eagle soaring above the trees where the river bends. The bird was huge. Its bright yellow beak sharply contrasted with its white head, and they marveled at its incredible wing span. They both stared in awe at the grace of the beautiful bird. At that moment, Jill felt as free as that eagle looked.

  All in all, the day was perfect, with the exception of gutting duty. Garrett
landed a bass that was sure to be a dinner they wouldn’t forget for a while, and even his smallest catch was bigger than the little crappie that kept stealing her bait.

  She climbed in the truck, exhausted from all the fresh air and sunshine. Jill caught a glimpse of herself in the side mirror. “Oh no,” Jill said, then lowered the passenger visor and leaned in closer. “I’m burned to a crisp.”

  Garrett lowered his sunglasses. “Oh. You’re right. Hadn’t noticed. That’s going to hurt.” He poked a finger against her shoulder. The skin went from red to white in a hurry. “That looks tender too. You should’ve worn sunscreen.”

  “Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Malloy.” She reached for her purse and started slathering lotion on her face from a tiny sample tube. “Did it occur to you that I didn’t know we were going to be in the sun all day? That makes this your fault, y’know.”

  “I promise to rub lotion on your sunburn for you.”

  “Oh yeah, I bet you do. If I didn’t know better I’d think you planned this,” she teased.

  The ride back to Pearl’s was a quick one. Jill didn’t mind gutting the fish. She’d done it enough over the years. A deal was a deal.

  Jill was excited about getting in the kitchen and using her locally famous recipe for fried bass. The secret combination of flour, cornmeal and fresh grated parmesan always fried to a crisp delight. Pearl had taught her the secret to frying early on, a skill that wasn’t all that popular amongst the yuppity-yup boiled/grilled/sushi folks Bradley liked to hang around with. Since there were tomatoes and peppers ripe for the picking in Pearl’s garden, she’d decided to make salsa, too. Garrett used to love her salsa, the hotter the better. If it didn’t force him to take his hat off from the sweat, it wasn’t hot enough. She’d fire him up tonight.

  She chopped and diced the veggies while the bass fried. Hot grease snapped and popped in the heavy cast iron skillet. Moving comfortably around the kitchen with a towel slung over her shoulder, she hummed and worked her way down the counter.

  Garrett wrapped his tan arms wrapped around her from behind, gently squeezing her mid-section. “I had fun today,” he whispered into her ear.

  She leaned to one side and raised the large chopping knife in her hand. “Don’t you know you should never mess with a lady while she’s armed and dangerous?”

  He dropped a kiss in the crook of her neck that made her squirm. “You’re worth the risk. Dinner smells delicious.”

  “Why thank you,” she exaggerated her southern drawl.

  “Of course, it is my winning fish that smells so good.”

  “Quit it.” She picked up the tongs and snapped them his way. “My fish was almost as big.”

  “Yeah, right if you count the pond grass that was hanging off the line,” he teased.

  “I want a rematch!”

  “Anytime.” He squeezed her waist. “Don’t tell me. Did you? Is that your special salsa?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Hot damn. You’ll never get rid of me now.” He released her and went to the back door. “See this, Clyde. She’s after my tummy now. We’ll never leave if she treats us like this.”

  Jill stacked plates in his arms and shooed him off to set the table so she could serve dinner. Garrett ate every last bit, and took continued delight in his win. Of course, her fish story was getting better and better with every bite, until she’d gotten to the point of trying to land Jaws with her small rod and reel. Garrett poignantly reminded her they were fresh water fishing and in waist deep water at that. Details.

  He insisted on doing the dishes since she’d done the dirty work of gutting the fish, which was fine with her. Cleaning up was her least favorite part of cooking, anyway.

  Jill went into the living room and turned on the television while Garrett finished cleaning the kitchen. She tucked her feet under her on the couch and rubbed Clyde’s ears. He panted, and she could have sworn Clyde’s lips formed a grin.

  “Hey, can I wrap up this mess in this newspaper that’s on the table?”

  “No. I haven’t read that yet. In fact, maybe I’ll do that while you clean up.” She took some old brown paper bags from the pantry and traded Garrett for the Savannah paper.

  She went back in the living room and started reading the outdated news.

  “Thanks. That was a great meal.” Garrett rubbed his stomach as he leaned against the doorway.

  The article about the Kase Foundation fundraiser caught her attention. “You’re welcome,” she answered, distracted.

  “Something wrong?” he asked as he wiped his hands on a dish towel and leaned in the doorway.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed. They reported the Foundation numbers wrong. No big deal. I’ll get Josh to have them print a correction.” She stretched and tossed the paper on the coffee table.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “I think it was all the fresh air.”

  “It was all that competitive casting and reeling you were doing trying to catch up with me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to lose without a fight.”

  “You know,” Jill said. “I’m pretty sure the only reason I lost was because of all the aches and pains from sleeping on that couch.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  “Up for a rematch next weekend?” she asked.

  “You’re on.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  At six in the morning, the temperature had already hit eighty-seven degrees with humidity to match. Jill grabbed water bottles from the refrigerator while Garrett fed Clyde so they could get on the road to Virginia Tech before it got too hot.

  “It’s been a long time since we had to get on the road early to get back to school,” Jill teased. They both knew the ride back and forth from Tech well enough from their days as Hokies.

  “Like old times, minus the goody box from Pearl,” Garrett answered nostalgically.

  “I know. Remember how everyone used to hunt us down for some of her homemade fudge and chocolate chocolate-chip cookies?”

  Garrett tugged at the strap of her tank top. “Man, you really did get burned.”

  She slapped his hand away. “Stop it. I take it you didn’t burn at all.”

  “Nope. I’m golden.”

  “Figures. Must be nice to have skin like that.” She faked a pout.

  “I’d love to have fair skin.” Garrett stepped closer. “Yours. In my arms, that is.”

  She laughed at the silly play on words. “We better hit the road.”

  Garrett leaned against the counter as Jill rifled through her purse, balancing the water bottles in the crook of her arm. “That car is a real piece of junk. Does it even have air?”

  Jill retrieved Lindy’s troll keychain. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Does that mean yes or no?”

  “Uh, no. Well, technically it has air, but it doesn’t work,” she said.

  “Toss me the keys.”

  She clutched the keys in her hand. “Why?”

  “I’ll drive the beater. It’s too hot for no air.”

  “No way. I’m driving it. It’s my commitment and my mess. Besides, the drive is all interstate. The wind will keep me cool.”

  “Ninety degrees is ninety degrees no matter how fast you drive.”

  Jill pushed past him toward the door. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “You’re as hard-headed as your grandmother,” he said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.” By the time Garrett had the door locked, Jill had already started the Mustang and pulled her hair up in a pony tail.

  “I’ll follow you in case that jalopy breaks down.”

  Jill gave him a thumb up and eased down the lane, giving him time to catch up.

  The wind whipped Jill’s ponytail against her face during the hot and sticky drive. By the time they got to Blacksburg, her hair had curled in a hundred different directions. They parked in front of Poncho Fish Taco. Lindy was already there.

  “Hi.�
� Lindy bounced off the curb and came to the side of the car.

  Jill peeled herself out, her sweaty legs sticking to the vinyl seat. “Hey, girl.”

  Lindy looked disgusted. “I was going to give you a hug, but you’re kind of sweaty.”

  “You’ve got to get that air fixed. How do you stand it?”

  “Oh man. I guess Mom should have told you. You have to turn it to heat for the A/C to work. It’s like all backwards,” Lindy explained.

  “You’re kidding.”

  Garrett stepped up behind Jill, laughing. “Nice hair.”

  “Shut up.” Jill swatted him and turned her attention back to Lindy. “This is my…this is Garrett Malloy.”

  Lindy smiled a perfect over-bleached smile and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I really appreciate using your car,” Jill said. “Even without the air. I filled the tank for you.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome. It actually saved me a trip home to get it. This is perfect. Oh yeah, Mom sent this for me to give to you too.” Lindy handed Jill an envelope. “Some news clipping or something. She didn’t have your address.”

  “Thanks. Let’s get some lunch. I love Poncho’s.”

  Lindy bit her lip and wrinkled her nose. “Do you mind if we don’t? I sorta’ have other plans.”

  Jill recalled being Lindy’s age and how she would’ve felt about some of Pearl’s friends coming to visit her. She’d have been mortified. “Not at all. Garrett, why don’t you grab us a table for two. I’ll be right there.”

  “Sounds good. Nice meeting you, Lindy.”

  Lindy’s eyes followed Garrett until he crossed through the door to Poncho’s. “Oh… my… God. He is like so hot,” Lindy squealed.

  “He’s a friend.”

  Lindy rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right. Whatever.”

  “You sure you won’t have lunch. It’s my treat.”

  “No thanks. I gotta’ run.” Lindy grabbed the troll keychain from Jill’s outstretched palm and jumped in the driver seat and gunned the engine. “See,” she twisted the knob and pointed the air vent toward the driver’s window. “Cool air.”

  Jill reached inside. Sure enough, cool air poured from the vents.