Reason Is You (9781101576151)

by Lovelace, Sharla

  I grabbed chips, doughnuts, chocolate, ice cream, pudding, and every other kind of crap I could find. And finally the damn chicken and dumpling cans. And brought them up front just in time. To come eyeball to eyeball with the surprised snarky sideways smirk of Shelby Pruitt.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she drawled. “Dani Lou Shane. I heard you were back.”

  I had a quick thought that the day couldn’t get any worse, and I immediately shoved it away for fear that it might. Nice thoughts. Nice thoughts. I smiled, painfully aware of Riley’s gaze narrowing. She was too old, sometimes.

  “Hey, Shelby. How are you?”

  “Great. Married almost twenty years to Matty Sims. You remember Matty, right?”

  Here we go again. I got a memory recall of Matty Sims and me in the nurse’s office. He was on the cot, and when she walked out, he pulled his dick out and wagged it at me. Wasn’t much to wag.

  “Kinda.”

  She chuckled the amused noise of someone who knows you’re lying. She was smarter than Lisa Lowe-whoever-she-was-now. Bitchier, too.

  “So, what made you want to crawl back to Bethany?” she asked in her saccharin-sweet way. “Weren’t you some big shot somewhere?”

  I scratched the back of my neck, that tingle still present, but there was no Alex or anyone else around.

  “Yeah, well, I’m relocated now.”

  “Relocated? At the Bait-n-Feed?” Then she giggled. I held on tight to my basket.

  “Well, nice to see you again, Shelby,” I said as I moved forward. She looked down.

  “Wow, a junk-food fest? I’m coming to your house.” Another giggle and an arm touch to show sister solidarity. Ya-ya. “Oh, that’d be your dad’s house, I mean.”

  “That’s for me,” Riley chimed in, eyes ablaze.

  I closed mine and prayed for that to go unnoticed. I loved her for catching on to the cattiness, but it wouldn’t go well. Shelby’s head swiveled to Riley and back to me. Ding! Ding! Ding!

  “Oh wow, this is your daughter?”

  “This is Riley.”

  Shelby smiled at her then at me as if we were admiring a teapot. “She’s beautiful, Dani.”

  I threw a glare at Riley, so she choked out, “Thank you. Nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, you, too.” She looked at the counter with disdain and then lowered her voice. “Do you work here?”

  When Riley just smiled and nodded, she added, “How sweet. How old are you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “So’s my daughter, Micah.”

  Of course she was. Evidently, we all popped them out the same damn year. I saw Carmen nudge Riley.

  “She’s on the varsity cheer squad. We’re so excited.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  She turned back to me. “And did I mention that Matty is the coach?”

  Shook my head. Nope. But we got it now. I tried again to move on and put my basket on the counter.

  “So who’s the lucky guy?” Shelby asked, leaning over to check out my hand. “Oh,” she said then, lowering her voice. “This was a divorce move?”

  I pasted a smile on. I knew damn good and well that she knew damn good and well that I wasn’t married. I may not have made the rounds every year, but if she knew I was a big shot somewhere, then she knew the rest.

  “Good to see you again, Shelby,” I said as I pulled items onto the counter.

  There was a snarky little sound, and then, “Yeah, welcome back.”

  I looked Riley square in the face when I answered, “Uh-huh.”

  “What a bitch,” Riley whispered when Shelby had moved out of earshot.

  I stopped, mid-grab to my wallet. “Watch your mouth.”

  “Micah’s just like her, too,” Carmen said. She cast her eyes down as I met her gaze, as if she didn’t mean to spew forth sound.

  Riley took her time ringing me up, a snarky grin on her face as she handed me my change.

  “Wow,” I said, holding up the bills. “There’s something new, you giving money back.”

  The bell jingled again, and in walked Miss Olivia, sporting a white pantsuit with her straw hat.

  “How goes it, Dani girl?” she asked as she rested her giant purse on the counter.

  Riley sat back in her chair and looked amused. I took a breath and then just laughed. I had to.

  “That good, huh?” she continued. “The job?”

  “It’s okay.” I patted her arm. “It’s all okay.”

  She did a double take when she saw the girls. “My God, you weren’t kiddin’. This girl looks twenty-one or more.”

  Of course Riley beamed on that. “Hey, Miss O.”

  “And how old would you be now?”

  “I would be twenty-one or more.”

  Miss Olivia guffawed at that, throwing her head back. “Oh yeah, girl, you are your momma’s offspring.”

  We all laughed except Carmen, who sat there looking sweet and confused. Probably bummed that Riley wouldn’t be going to school with her now that she was suddenly an adult.

  “Well, my nephew’ll be here in a few days, and he’s only seventeen, so try to go easy on him, all right?”

  “You have a nephew my age?”

  Miss Olivia opened one of her bags and tossed a few seeds in her mouth. “He’s my niece’s son. Just sounds less ‘old woman’ than great-nephew, don’t you think?” She threw the bags on the counter and dug for money as Riley rung her up and Carmen continued to smile pretty. “You two need to come over for supper when Grady gets here. I’ll call you.” And she was gone.

  Riley looked at me. “Grady? Really?”

  I gave her a look. “It’s after six; are you off?”

  She looked at Carmen, who nodded and yawned. “I am, too, but I’ll wait for Mrs. Shumaker to come back and relieve me, go ahead. There’s nobody in here but Micah’s mom, anyway.”

  “And the guy in the flip flops.”

  Carmen frowned. “Who?”

  “Blue shirt and flip-flops, beard, spiky hair.” Riley gestured to the back corner. “He was back there looking at magazines, probably still is.”

  She shook her head and shrugged. “Never saw him. Oh well.”

  Hello. My alert went up, and as we exited, I knew I was on borrowed time. That clock would become a bomb if I didn’t take some action.

  And right on cue, there was my action. Alex strolled up as we approached my car, and my heart jumped so hard I felt the knock.

  “Ladies,” he said softly, smiling that way of his that made me sweat. This time the sweat was for a far different reason, as I whirled in place to see if we had an audience.

  “Mom, what are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” I breathed. “Alex, what are you doing here? Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Not today.” He sat on the hood of my car with his shit-eating grin. Cute. He was in a playful mood. Groovy.

  “You again?” Riley asked.

  I ignored her. “Well, Shelby’s in there, so—” So please take the hint and scram.

  “Shelby! Damn, that’s been a while.”

  Riley looked from me to Alex and back again. “Please stop talking in code,” she said loudly, then gestured toward him. “And what, do you just really like that outfit?”

  He gave her his full mischievous attention, eyes flashing. “Men don’t have outfits, sweetheart, but yes, I do, matter of fact. Do you?”

  “Not particularly.”

  He laughed. “What do you prefer?”

  “Something this decade.”

  I was in full meltdown, and I faced her so it would look like she was talking to me.

  “Riley, keep your voice down. Alex, please don’t do this today. I’m begging you.”

  “Do what?” Riley asked.

  “None ya,” I hissed.

  “None ya?” She backed up a step. “My God, that’s so eighties.”

  “I don’t really give a shit what decade it is, Riley. Not everything is your business.”

  She held up a han
d. “Damn, Mom. Chill.”

  I was about over the top, stepping forward to tell her just how chilled I was, when Alex said calmly, “Maybe you should get in the car, Riley.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, bowed up. “Who the hell—”

  Shelby walked out at that precise moment and that was it.

  “Get in the car,” I said, my voice cracking. “Now.”

  She knows that sound. The sound of my sanity scratching down a chalkboard. She huffed and sulked and slammed the door.

  “Looks like you got your hands full with that one,” Shelby said as she sauntered to her car.

  Adrenaline shook me head to toe, and I turned and got in the car without another word.

  “Mom,” Riley said when I started it up. “Is he not gonna move?”

  “He’ll move.” And as my car went in motion, he smoothly stepped away and walked down the street.

  She scoffed as she turned to watch him. “What is his problem?” she asked. “What is yours, for that matter?”

  “Just too much, okay?” I said as I ran my fingers through suddenly sweaty hair. “Too much of this day. I’ve had enough.”

  “What’s with this guy, Alex?”

  “Nothing.”

  She blew out a breath. “Whatever.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Okay, jump the shark. Rip the Band-Aid off. “Do you ever notice—people that others don’t seem to?”

  “What?”

  “Like the guy in the store? Flip-flop guy?”

  She blinked a couple of times and stared at me like I was insane. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. I’m more observant than most people.”

  There’s a spin. “More observant.”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I—never mind.”

  My head throbbed, my stomach was rebelling against the Cheetos, and I didn’t have the stamina.

  “Mom, you’re acting like a freak.”

  I rubbed at my face. “So be it, Riley. I’ve earned the right.”

  We pulled through the drive, and I stopped, got out, and went in. I was done. For starting on such a good note, the day had officially kicked my ass.

  Chapter 5

  I spent the evening out on the dock alone, sort of. On purpose. I’d had enough of other people for one day, and just wanted the quiet sounds of the water trickling through the cattails and swamp grass.

  I wandered down the road first, to my old cove, Bojangles at my heels. It was clear that not too many others shared my feelings about Coffee Ground Cove because it was highly overgrown and difficult to get through the vines and growth. There was one path down to the dock, and only one side of the dock that was still sturdy enough to hold weight. As I looked around, I tried not to let disappointment settle over me. You can never go back, I guess. But in my heart it would always be magical.

  Bojangles, on the other hand, kept staring at the ground as if ticks were ready to ambush him, so we headed back to our own dock. He looked tickled shitless to have company at his favorite spot. He lay at my side, sprawled on his belly with his head slightly over the edge of the dock so he could watch the ladyfish and shad swim just under the surface.

  If I’d had bread crumbs to throw out, the water would churn in a frenzy and he’d jump up and wag his tail and bark at them. But today, there was no bread, no frenzy, no barking. Just peace. He seemed good with it. I was envious of that.

  Simple lack of activity, and he was fine either way. No stress. No decisions other than where to walk, where to pee, when to sleep or eat.

  “Damn dog.”

  Bojangles lifted his head at the sudden break in the silence and tilted it. His tail wagged a couple of strokes, slow as if unsure. I dug my fingers in the soft hair of his neck to relax him back down before he decided to come sit on me. A long cattail swayed next to the dock, and I plucked it from its mucky roots. Letting the furry end just touch the surface, I skimmed the calm water, watching the resulting ripples resonate out. Forever changing something’s world for that one second.

  I felt the footsteps behind me, and Bojangles’s tail went into full thump mode as he flopped awkwardly to his feet. I turned to see Dad walk up with two Cokes and a bag of pretzels.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” He scoped out the options, then groaned as he lowered himself down to sit as Bo danced around him and then sat between us. “Lord, I remember when getting on the ground didn’t require premeditation.”

  I laughed and reached into the bag. We sat in silence for a bit as the duskiness fell over the water. Bojangles watched the pretzel bag till his eyes got heavy. Then I felt the gaze and looked to the right to catch my dad studying me.

  “What?”

  “You tell me.”

  I shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing doesn’t usually have you out here hanging with Bo.”

  “He twisted my arm.”

  Bojangles let out a long snore right about that time.

  “Well, no one can deny his charm.”

  I laughed a pretzel right out of my mouth on that one, and Bo simultaneously woke up and snatched it out of midair before he flopped back down to munch sideways.

  “Wow.”

  Dad held out the bag again. “Saw Marg today. Said you’re doing good. She likes you. And she doesn’t just like everybody, so that’s saying something.”

  “She likes you.”

  He took the bag back and shook his head. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m saying she lights up like a Christmas tree when it comes to you.”

  “So what happened to your car?”

  I smiled. “Subtle.”

  “Made a good impression on the new boss, huh?”

  I blew out a breath and looked back toward where my car sat guiltily. “God, can’t anyone keep their mouth shut around here?”

  “Pretty much no.”

  I rubbed at my face, feeling the day’s twitch coming back. “You wondered why I sat with Bo? He wasn’t quizzing me.”

  Dad chuckled. “Sorry.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and let it fall. The dark swallowed up the water in front of me and I remembered being seventeen and wishing it would swallow me with it. I was careful not to look down, straight into the water beneath me. Night water was like the rain. Just waiting for me to succumb to it. Waiting for me to fall in so it could suck me down.

  I shook my head free of the vertigo pulling at me. “Went out on the boat with Jiminy yesterday.”

  There was a pause before he laughed. “No kidding?”

  “Went out with Hank today.”

  “Well, aren’t you just stepping outside your box?”

  I grabbed a pretzel. “I think my box stayed in Dallas.” At his chuckle I added, “Jiminy knew me, by the way.”

  He nodded. “He knew you when you were little.”

  “He said you and him and Mom used to hang out.”

  Another chuckle. “That seems like a hundred years ago.”

  “Everything changed when she died, huh?”

  He nudged me. “Just got busy. You know as well as I do how life changes when you have a baby. Everything you used to think was important becomes trivial.”

  “Especially doing it alone.”

  “Especially.”

  “Still miss Mom?”

  He took his time letting out the next breath. “Every day.”

  “Me, too,” I said, although it barely came out. “I mean, it’s odd to miss someone you’ve never met. But I guess I miss the idea of her.”

  “How does Riley handle that?”

  I looked at him, confused by the turn.

  “About her dad—”

  “Oh.” Strange, that I’d never seen it as similar. “She—really hasn’t brought it up in a long time. She used to.”

  “You still tell her you bought her at a store?”

  “Hmm.” I laughed. “That was easier, wasn’t it?”

>   Funny that I could laugh about it now. Riley was five when I had to tell her she wasn’t bought. She had seen past that ruse and wanted the skinny. At that time, the story became that there was once a daddy but that he had to leave. It was always lame.

  But how do you tell a child that the man who helped make her was a loser asshole who charmed her gullible mom. The kind of loser who says all the right things and drops hope and affection and “L” words in your lap and to someone as love-starved as I was, seemed to be lined in gold. The kind of loser who talks you into futures and picket fences and letting go of friends and possessions and everything to move into his fancy apartment, getting rid of your own stuff because it doesn’t match.

  And then when you get pregnant, he looks at you, smiles, kisses you off to work, and while you are at work happily caught up in thoughts of a wedding and a family in your rosy-tinted world, he packs up everything and vanishes.

  No clothes left behind. No toothbrush. No hair in the sink or drool stain on the pillow. Because there was no pillow. He took that, too.

  No proof that he was ever there except for what you have cooking inside you. How do you tell your child that? That I know I’m not important enough to be graced like the Virgin Mary, I know I didn’t imagine six months of my life with this man, but he evidently fabricated a job, a name, an identity that I found out was all false.

  An acquaintance of mine that had met him once at a restaurant with me did at least verify in my mind that he was real and living and that I hadn’t completely crossed over reality. But it didn’t matter. He left me without a trace. No note. No savings. No furniture or appliances. Just college loans and an apartment I couldn’t afford to keep.

  Yeah, that was pretty real.

  When Riley was twelve, she bluntly asked me, So, do you really know who my dad is or was it a one-night stand?

  Too much TV. Definitely.

  A one-night stand, I told her.

  I just couldn’t bear to tell her that he was Houdini in Armani and escaped when told of her existence. Let her think I was just sleazy. I just couldn’t tell her the truth.

  Kinda like now.

  “I tried to tell her about—the ghosts—today.”

  I felt his head swivel. I swear. “Really.”