“Yeah.”
“He’s good-looking, too,” Miss Olivia said as she speared a chicken breast.
I frowned. “Who?”
“Jason.”
I slumped. “We’re still there? Really?”
“Who’s Jason?” Riley asked.
“Mr. Miller?” Grady asked, looking at his aunt, who dutifully nodded and grinned at me. “He’s nice, but kinda scary.”
“Ain’t no kinda about it,” I said, and then froze as I replayed it. Ain’t no kinda? Dear God, I was regressing. The culture peeled off me by the minute.
“Who’s Mr. Miller?” Riley asked, looking at each of us.
“My boss,” Grady said as he piled a precarious amount of food onto his plate.
“My boss,” I echoed.
“You know, boy, you can have seconds,” Miss Olivia said. “You don’t have to hoard it.”
He glanced at her as he scooped more. “I’m not. This is the first helping.”
“Lordy, lordy,” she mumbled.
“Wait. You and Grady both work at the bait shop?” Riley asked.
“No,” he answered. “I help out on his boat. Fix stuff, keep the engine maintained.”
“He lives on that boat,” Miss Olivia said, with a direction to her tone that I knew had a look to go along. I refused to look up and acknowledge it.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” I said, picking at my green beans. “No grass to mow, I guess.”
“Oh yeah, there is,” Grady answered. “He has me mow all around the dock.”
“So, how is he scary?” Riley asked.
“Just intense. He never stops.”
“Never smiles, either,” I said.
“Oh no, he can be funny, you just gotta catch him in the right mood.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Guess I haven’t caught that mood.”
“Well, you did rear-end his car,” Miss Olivia said to my immense delight.
Riley nearly spit out her lemonade. “You hit your boss?”
“That was you?” Grady asked.
I glared at both of them. “So, where are you from, Grady?”
He looked at his aunt, then back at me and chuckled, wiping his mouth. “Denton, ma’am.”
Riley snickered. “That means the subject is changed.”
“You here all summer?” I asked as I slathered real butter on a real potato—as opposed to the pretend ones in a box.
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Miss Olivia again, who smiled back at him and winked.
“Mm-hmm,” I said. “So what did you do to piss your parents off that bad?”
His head jerked around along with Riley’s. Miss Olivia just chuckled.
“Ma’am?”
“Mom!”
I laughed and snagged a roll out of a red basket. Grady’s face went just as red.
“What was the crime?”
“Oh my God, Mom, I swear,” Riley muttered, and if looks could’ve killed me, her bright blue eyes would have turned me to dust.
“Don’t swear at my table,” Miss Olivia said, making Riley pink up as well.
Grady focused on his plate.
“Go ahead, boy. Get used to this town knowing your business,” Miss Olivia prompted.
No kidding.
He pushed some food around and didn’t look up. “I took my mom’s car out one night with some buddies. Got drunk and—hit a building.”
I blinked. Riley closed her eyes, probably seeing her prospective summer go up in smoke.
“A building?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I looked at Miss Olivia and worked at not smiling, which was hard because she was having too good of a time.
“Wow. Anyone get hurt?”
“Just the car.”
“And now here you are.”
“To help out Aunt Olivia.”
I nodded, not that he could see it since he only had eyes for the center of his plate.
“I have apple pie and ice cream for dessert,” Miss Olivia said in an attempt to finally bail him out so he could eat in peace.
“You made pie?”
She shook her head. “Hell no, Dani girl. I bought it frozen and stuck it in the oven.”
Well, finally. “Works for me.”
The kids went out on the porch with their lemonade after supper, and the irony cracked me up. Riley wasn’t happy enough with me to crack up with me so I let that go. Miss Olivia put food away and I washed dishes in the sink like no time had ever passed.
“She is you made over, that’s for sure, yeah.”
“I like to think I wasn’t that mouthy.”
“Mmm—not to me. But you did have an edge to you.”
“That was just survival.”
She looked sideways at me, and her wise old eyes saw more than she let on. “How you doing with that now?”
I paused, feeling the slippery soap run over my hands, watching the water clean the plate free. I’d never be cleansed free like that.
“It’s just my life, you know. Never known it any other way.”
“And now?”
I tilted my head. “Now, Riley has to learn that, too.”
She put a finger to her cheek. “Wait—why?”
“Ah, yes. There’s that. Do you remember about Alex?”
“Hard to forget that,” she said. “I wish some hottie would come visit me.”
“Well, Riley can see him, too.”
Miss Olivia took a step back. “Holy smokes, girl.”
“Yep,” I said, handing her a plate to dry. “Don’t you just want to be me?”
“SO the hayseed hick wasn’t a complete waste of time?” I asked once we got in the car.
She gave a little groan. “Is it possible for you to walk away from this conversation?”
“Not even slightly.”
She sighed, but I saw the smile. The glow. She was smitten. “Look at you. You’re all googly.”
She ran fingers through her hair. “Please don’t say that word, Mom. It’s disturbing.”
“Googly, googly, goog—”
“Why don’t we go by Ella’s?” she interrupted.
“Who’s Ella?”
“It’s a restaurant on the river—they have really good desserts.”
I pointed at the house we were still parked in front of. “We just ate our weight in pie.”
“Yeah, but they’re supposed to have this phenomenal hot banana pudding crunch, and we can bring Pop some.”
“How do you know about this place?”
“Carmen told me.”
Oh yes, Carmen. Yay.
“Okay,” I said as I pulled out of Miss Olivia’s curvy, hedge-lined driveway, onto the gravel that lined all the river-access roads. “So where is this place?”
“Instead of turning at Pop’s road, keep going—”
“At the boat launch?”
“Yeah, down close to there.”
“Have you been there already?”
She turned my way. “Yes, in my invisible car.”
“Don’t act like walking is out of the question,” I said. “You walk everywhere else.”
“So speaking of that, when do I get a car?”
Something fell out of my mouth. Something like a laugh. “With my invisible money? Let’s go look tomorrow.”
I’m sure there was an eye roll, but I couldn’t see it in the dark. We pulled up and parked, and I admired the pastel lighting that oozed from the multicolored windows.
“This is cool. How long has it been here?”
We got out and strolled along the wooden boardwalk that flanked the perimeter of what was essentially an old boathouse revisited.
“Carmen said it opened last month.”
Just inside heavy double-oak doors was a giant framed chalkboard that looked to weigh a thousand pounds and sported several specials in different-colored chalk. The floor appeared to be the original planking, and stainless steel buckets lined the wall, filled with napkins and wrapped silverware. A wai
tress snagged a bucket and nodded for us to follow her.
“We’re just getting something to go,” I said, pointing at the menus under her arm. “Could we just—?”
The perky little blue-eyed blonde glared at me as she handed us the menus.
“Thanks.”
I opened one and we perused with our heads together. Bread pudding. Key lime pie—yum, but already had pie. Already had lots of things, but somehow still ended up with my nose in the dessert section. Giant brownie volcano. Sopapilla cheesecake.
“Oh, now that has possibilities.” I pointed at what was likely death by butter.
“I recommend the banana pudding.”
The voice came from behind and over my head, and I spun around to see Jason walk past us and up to the counter.
Riley’s eyebrows shot up. “Who’s that?”
“Satan.”
“He’s hot.”
“Like I said.”
Jason turned around and leaned against the counter as the hostess disappeared for parts unknown.
“It’s served hot instead of cold. It’s unusual but really good,” he continued.
It took me a second to remember what the first part was about. I just nodded.
“Just my opinion,” he said with a shrug.
“Told you,” Riley said, still engrossed in the menu.
The hostess came back with a bag of something warm and steamy and handed it to him.
“You just get back in town?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “You knew I was gone?”
“Um, you weren’t at work. Bob told me you were visiting—”
“Yeah,” he said, cutting me off. “Just got back.”
Okay then. “Supper?” I asked, with a gesture toward the bag.
“Most nights.”
“You eat here that much?” Riley piped up. Never one to be shy.
He looked amused. “I’m not much of a cooker, and I get tired of nuking ramen noodles and ravioli.”
“Dude, there’s other things you can do.”
I put a hand on Riley’s back and prayed for her to shut up as he chuckled. An actual smile—wow. Must have been what Grady was talking about.
“This is my daughter, Riley. I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” He stepped forward with his free hand and shook hers. “Jason Miller.”
“Jason—” She threw me a questioning look. “Your boss? Grady’s boss?”
“Yes.”
“This is the guy you rear-ended?”
There are moments I wish her to be sucked away with a giant turkey baster. That was one of them. A small grin played at the corner of Jason’s mouth, however, and his dark green eyes actually looked kind of happy. From that perspective, I could see the “hot” comment. Normally, I just got the scowl.
“You know Grady?”
“Miss Olivia is a very close friend. We just ate over there, actually.”
“And it was bad?” He gestured at the menu.
“No,” I said, laughing. “Riley just wanted to come get some dessert.”
“Well,” he said as he turned to leave and the businessman morphed back in front of me. “Like I said, you can’t go wrong with the banana pudding.”
I was pretty sure that was the most conversation we’d had outside of the bump and grind with our cars. We’d managed to keep work talk to the bare minimum of nods and grunts.
“Jason?”
We all turned to see Shelby Pruitt Sims, in the perfect little blue workout suit. With the perfect little head tilt and the perfect amount of lowered zipper.
“Hey, Shelby.”
“You eating here again?” she said, touching his arm and smiling.
“Evidently.”
She turned to Riley and me as if we had just sprouted there. Perfect smile was accentuated with perfect nails as she flipped perfect hair out of her eyes.
“Hey, Dani,” she cooed, looking from me to Riley and back. “What are y’all doing tonight?”
I held up the menu. “Ordering.”
Riley pulled it back down, as I interrupted her. “Mom.”
Shelby’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. “She’s just a little firecracker, isn’t she?”
Riley looked up and smiled, unsure. “Ma’am?”
Shelby switched gears. “How’s that little job going, Dani?”
I smiled as best as I could around the acid that churned in my stomach. “It’s doing just fine, Shelby. Thanks for asking.”
She turned to Jason then, head tilt still in play. “You know, Dani and I went to school together.”
“Really?” he responded, going on automation. Disinterest settled on his face. This was the guy I knew.
“Yes, we did.” She smiled back at me as if we were co-remembering. “I was a cheerleader like Micah is now, and Dani was—what did you do, Dani?”
The heat rose up through my neck to my scalp. To hell with Jason being there, Riley was witness to this fiasco. Watching this bitch try to step on me like it was twenty years ago.
“I graduated,” I said on a laugh that I crafted from somewhere in my core. “That was all that mattered. All the rest faded off once the real world kicked in.”
Shelby’s smile disintegrated into what was just a twist of her face. To downplay her golden days was tantamount to blasphemy.
“Yep,” Jason said, which snapped Shelby’s head around. “High school is only interesting in high school.”
Shelby’s mouth worked a smile back out. “Well, of course,” she said with a nervous little laugh. “But it’s still fun to remember.”
“Depends on what you’re remembering,” he said, peeking into his bag. I’m sure he wished he was eating it. “For me, college was better.”
“Ditto,” I said. “College was awesome.”
Jason smiled, and his face transformed again. “I have to leave you ladies. Supper’s getting cold.” He did a chin lift at me as he passed that I took to signify an all-out good-bye.
Shelby’s face was priceless. She’d been dethroned and flicked aside. But before she could turn that prissiness on me, Pissy Number Two walked up. The perky little blonde waitress we had so rudely put out sidled up next to her mom and yanked her hair down from its ponytail, fluffing it out.
Shelby composed herself. “Have you met my daughter, Micah?”
I held out a hand. “Hi, Micah.”
“Hey.” Limp hand. Disinterest.
“Hey, I’m Riley.”
“Hey.”
The girls smiled and sized each other up, and I felt a second of pride as I watched Riley. She had no outward sense of inferiority. She stood there eyeball to eyeball with Shelby Junior with no reason to feel less than.
“Micah made varsity cheerleader for next year,” Shelby said again.
Micah sighed and looked around. “Mom, quit.”
“That’s cool,” Riley said.
“Whatever.”
Micah pulled off her work belt, which sagged with napkins and straws and an order pad, and dropped it on the counter.
“Can we go, Mom? I’m exhausted.”
The prom queen smile returned. “See y’all later.”
“Yeah, much,” Riley muttered after they were out the door.
“Riley.”
“Seriously, Mom, that woman is—messed up.”
The snicker came out. Couldn’t stop it. It just bubbled up and fell out of my mouth.
“And I don’t see all this evil you talk about with your boss. He seemed okay to me.”
“Well, he was a little different tonight.”
Or a lot different. A whole new side of him kind of different. The kind of side that interacts with other humans instead of looking to feed.
“He kinda defended you.”
I frowned. “You think?”
“Yeah, he sure put Miss I-Used-To-Be-A-Cheerleader in her place.”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
“She was your friend?” Riley asked.
“No.�
�� I studied the menu again. “Can we pick something now? I didn’t know this was going to be a long-term event.”
Right on cue, the new hostess appeared and looked from Riley to me. “So, are you ready?”
“What do you want, boog?”
She rolled her bottom lip between her fingers. “I guess he kinda sold me on the banana pudding.”
“You already wanted it.”
“Yeah, but I was considering my options.”
“Well, I’m going with that, too.”
“Aw, you’ll have something to talk about at work so maybe he won’t be so mean,” she said, with an elbow to my ribs.
I gave her a double take. “No, no, no, my girl. It’s nothing like that.”
She held up a hand. “Whatever, I’m just saying he’s better than that Alex dude that keeps popping up.”
And then I broke out in a sweat. We got our order and left, and once we were on the road and immersed in banana pudding aroma, I threw it out there.
“About that Alex dude—”
“I know, y’all have a thing.”
My mouth went dry. “What? No, there’s no thing.”
“Please, it’s so obvious.”
“How?” How was I having this conversation?
“Mom, you choke whenever you see him. You don’t breathe. Clearly, you have something heavy with the guy, and he gets all—zoned or something.”
Zoned or something. Oh man. “I totally breathe. It—it’s just more complicated than that.”
“Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t want to know about your love life; I’m just saying it’s no secret you have the hots for each other.”
I rubbed my face. “Oh God.”
“Don’t be such a prude, Mom. I mean, he’s cute, too. Just a little—weird.”
“Yeah, well.”
“New wardrobe would probably help. Satan just seems more normal.”
Cute. “Mr. Miller.”
“You have to call him that?”
“You have to call him that. He’s my boss.”
She opened the door. “Whatever.”
Chapter 7
IF I concentrated, I could follow one ceiling fan blade around and around. I kept losing it, though, and had to start over. I threw the covers off and spread out. It was a muggy, sticky night, ticking with energy. I could almost feel the hairs on my arm move. Not unusual, but I was tired of staring at that damn fan with its whisper that always sounded like voices to me. At the bookshelves holding books that hadn’t moved in twenty years. At the design on the far wall made from the faint nightlight. At the ninety-two plastic slats of the window blinds, the three bottom ones bent.
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