Not So New in Town

by Michele Summers

  Being back in the Doolan/Brooks house, where he’d spent a huge portion of his high school days, brought back a rush of memories. Most good, but not all. Since Brogan had grown up an only child, he’d always enjoyed spending time with other kids and their families. Even if it meant witnessing Julia and Lucy bicker or Mr. Doolan fawn over his second wife, Babs. Maybe not the perfect all-American family, but it had come close enough. He’d have given his throwing arm to have a sibling to boss or fight with. Since his mom had worked full time, he’d come home from school to Tulip, the housekeeper. Once in a while, Tulip’s son, Deshawn, would be there, and he’d toss the football with him, but mostly Brogan would be alone.

  Today, sitting in Mr. Doolan’s master bedroom, talking to a flirty, pregnant Julia had felt strange. He should’ve stayed and forced Julia to talk about Parker’s real dad, but he’d chickened out. Harsh memories had washed over him at Julia’s decision to keep Parker in the dark. He’d experienced that same black history. Remembering the embarrassment and shame he’d felt when other kids would ask why he didn’t have a dad and never having an answer…made it worse. At those uncomfortable times, Brogan had resented his mom and her stubborn pride.

  Instead, with Julia, he’d provided specifics about his mom’s house and how much he wanted to net. The mention of a potential sale lit Julia’s eyes. Her business mask replaced her flirtatious face. Whenever Julia wanted something, she got that scary, calculated look, and nothing or no one could sway her otherwise.

  Brogan harbored no illusions that Julia had pined over him all these years. Parker and the baby on the way proved she hadn’t joined a nunnery. No, Julia had set her course in life and showed little signs of suffering. The real mystery was Lucy. Somewhere beneath the straight hair, suspicious eyes, and feisty mouth was a story. A unique story with a pinch of sadness peppered with humor, piquing his curiosity.

  “Looks busy today. You get a lot of traffic in your store?” she remarked at the shoppers crowding the sidewalk on Main.

  Not nearly enough. “Some. Still need to get our name out. Keith Morgan’s tennis academy has helped, because the players training want healthy food.”

  “Some guys in tennis clothes just went inside,” she said, swiveling her head and peering out the back window.

  Good. “How many?” He tried to keep the desperate edge at bay. The business needed picking up fast, or he’d be missing his NYC deadline in September. The fighter inside him wouldn’t abandon Harmony’s BetterBites. Determination and pure stubbornness drove him. Harmony’s location would thrive with the help of the new hometown attraction: Lucy.

  He glanced at his ticket to success sitting uncomfortably stiff next to him. Getting her to agree was the rub.

  “Ran into Amanda and Marcia this morning. Did they warn you about stopping by?”

  “Yeah, they texted me. I’ll run Julia’s errands while the Witches of Harmony hold their broomstick convention. Give them time to plot their revenge without my presence.”

  “Revenge? What are you talking about?”

  Lucy shot him a wary look. “You know. Since I chopped off her hair, Julia has never really gotten me back. She’s either planning to shave my head and tattoo a scary, fire-breathing dragon across my chest or boss me into an early grave with her incessant demands and endless lists.”

  “But you were banished from your home the last two years of high school. Personally, I thought the punishment didn’t fit the crime.”

  Lucy straightened in her seat. “Not exactly banished. I chose to leave, since Julia and I never got along. At the time, it felt right.” Brogan’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel at the crack in her voice. “I was young and foolish, leaving all my friends my junior and senior year to live with my grandparents in Chattanooga. Starting over was tough.” Twip went a lock of hair around her finger. “I still came home…for vacations and holidays. Unless they weren’t going to be here. Babs would arrange these silly trips to Dollywood or Graceland and whisk my dad away.”

  Lucy crossed her arms and tucked her chin. “As a kid, all I could see was some woman and her daughter taking away my dad. Whacking Julia’s hair and gluing her butt in biology was wrong, but as a threatened fifteen-year-old, it was my only weapon.”

  Brogan had stopped on the shoulder of the narrow two-lane highway behind Lucy’s broken-down car. “I remember when you left. I was angry and thought you didn’t get a fair deal. So you pulled a few pranks.” He shrugged. “I knew what Julia used to do to you.”

  Lucy blinked in shock. “How did you know?”

  “Because Julia had a mean-girl streak and loved to spread baseless rumors. I wasn’t as blinded by love as you think.” Lucy shifted uncomfortably, and Brogan spied light-pink lace hugging the tops of her breasts beneath her pink tank top. He bit hard on the inside of his cheek.

  Lucy fluttered her hand. “Water under the bridge. High school is so dumb. Why do we give it such power over our lives?”

  “Because it’s a powerful transition from childhood into adulthood. Breaking away from total parental dependency and forging long-term friendships. It becomes a part of you. Even if you don’t want it to.”

  * * *

  Sheesh, you could say that again. This time Lucy zipped her loose lips. Old hurts and embarrassed feelings rushed to the surface, causing shortness of breath. These were the very reasons she hadn’t wanted to be back in Harmony, reliving her awkward high school days, invoking old memories. They had caused endless nights of soaking her favorite Spice Girls pillow with hot tears.

  Outside the car, Brogan reached for the jug of coolant from his trunk. “What did you do after graduating from college?”

  “Worked in marketing in Atlanta for the convention center downtown, but when the economy tanked…all the new hires lost their jobs.”

  Brogan gave an understanding nod as he popped the hood to Lucy’s car. “So you took up temp work?”

  “Not exactly. I worked for a couple of small companies before getting into temp work. Temp work wasn’t all bad. It allowed me the time to consult with small businesses and boost their sales.” Lucy shook her head. Somewhere along the line, she had started chasing a paycheck, losing sight of her goals and ending up helping Anthony for almost three years achieve his ambitions…instead of her own.

  At least with Julia’s pregnancy, an end was in sight. That baby couldn’t stay in her belly forever. Just enough time to reconnect with her nephew and for Lucy to mend fences with Julia.

  A loud whoosh sounded as the breath escaped her lungs. Maybe because she stood on the side of the highway with Brogan, under the hood of her poor baby, as he added coolant. Efficient and sure with his movements, appearing perfect and pristine next to her tired car. Startled by the contrast, Lucy rolled a hank of hair around her finger. She recalled a time when she’d looked pristine and professional next to her shiny, new car. What had happened to that Lucy on the brink of a brilliant future?

  “You need help?”

  Brogan dropped the hood in place. “I’m good. That should do it, but this car needs work.”

  So did Lucy. “Sorry you’ve wasted your Saturday morning. I’ll drive over to Grady’s and park it in his lot. Hopefully, he’ll return before Labor Day.”

  Brogan brushed off his hands. “You have other transportation?” He carried the empty jug of coolant to his trunk.

  “I’ll borrow Julia’s minivan until she’s fixed. Here’s money for the coolant.” Light feathers danced up her arm as his fingers pushed away the cash in her hand.

  “You can keep your money.”

  “I insist. I need to pay you…or something.” A glint sparked to life in his eye, and his crooked smile appeared.

  “Or something,” he said, closing his trunk, making Lucy jump; whether from the noise or what he implied, she had no idea. “Keys.” He held out his hand.

  “Huh?” She fished for
her keys in the front pocket of her pink paisley shorts.

  “I’ll drive your poor baby over to Grady’s. You can follow in the Jag.”

  Lucy’s head jerked up. “Seriously?” Absolutely not. He’d done enough for one day. He didn’t need to sweat in her overheated car that might or might not make it into town.

  Brogan plucked the keys from her fingers. “Yeah. Let me make sure she starts.”

  Lucy trotted behind him, her tan ballet flats crunching in the gravel. “No. I’ll drive her. You don’t know how she operates. She can be real temperamental.”

  He shot her an incredulous expression, snorting as he opened the driver’s door.

  “Typical female. I think I can manage. But maybe you better follow close behind in case I need your help.” His condescending tone washed away all the pleasant thoughts she’d been having about him.

  “Suit yourself. She’s tricky. Likes to sputter and conk off if you don’t treat her right. Takes a firm hand.” Lucy’s car had never acted up until yesterday, but Mr. Cocky didn’t need to know that. Tossing his keys in the air, she caught them in her palm.

  Brogan laughed. “I’ve got firm hands. I think she’ll like them. Most temperamental women do.”

  Gnawing her lower lip, she attempted to ignore his sexual innuendo. Slipping behind the wheel of the Jag, Lucy released a sigh of contentment, rubbing her palms over the smooth leather steering wheel. The engine purred to life with zero effort on her part, and thoughts of purring under the ministrations of Brogan’s capable hands invaded her mind. Oh, get over yourself. He probably had a den of purring cats. He didn’t need a lost, mewling kitty to add to his litter. Lucy secretly cheered as her loyal Honda started and then stalled for a few seconds, giving Brogan a hard time. Her poor baby was standing up for her. Lucy would take her victories wherever she could find them. But it didn’t take Brogan long to gain control and pull onto the highway heading back to town.

  Brogan parked the Honda in the side lot at Grady’s, next to a mud-spattered pickup truck. Lucy parked alongside the two old-fashioned gas pumps. Grady didn’t believe in technology and had never upgraded his tanks to take credit cards.

  “Need to get the rest of my things,” she said, preparing to bump the trunk with her hip.

  “Wait. Let me try.” Brogan depressed the key remote once, twice, and Lucy’s Honda, being a typical, traitorous female when it came to hunky men, opened with no problem. “Told you. I’ve got the touch.”

  “With cranky, overheated old women…must make you proud.”

  “Yep.” He laughed, reaching for the rest of her bags and totes.

  “Hillbilly Bone” played from Lucy’s cell, indicating a text. “I’m coming,” she mumbled as her fingers typed an answer.

  “You crushing on Blake Shelton now?” he teased.

  “Nah. Trace Adkins. I love that man’s moves.” Brogan’s interest piqued, evident by his quirked brow.

  “Have you heard him in concert?”

  “Not really. But I temped concessions at a big country concert in Atlanta, and he was one of the acts.” She shrugged. “We could hear snippets but couldn’t see anything.”

  Brogan shook his head as he began loading his trunk with the rest of her bags.

  Lucy trotted after him. “Listen, thanks for all your help. If you could drop me at home, I’ll grab the keys to Julia’s car. I need to make a barbecue run. Apparently, Julia craves anything with vinegar.”

  Brogan turned after closing his trunk, brows raised in question.

  “Look, I’ve learned not to ask questions. She wants a quart from Hog Wild, and she’s paying me to make it happen.” Hog Wild BBQ, with its base of vinegar and spices, made the best Eastern-style barbecue in all of North Carolina.

  “Hog Wild it is then. Let’s go.” He opened the passenger door and started to slide in.

  “Don’t you want to drive?”

  “Nope. You’re doing fine. You look good in this car.” He stretched his left arm out to the back of her headrest.

  “Cool! You don’t mind if we stop for barbecue?”

  “It’s on the way. We should get some for Parker too. He’s probably devoured every meal in the fridge and has started on his arm by now.”

  Lucy accelerated out of the parking lot. “Brogan Reese promoting unhealthy pork. When will the madness end?” she teased.

  “Everything in moderation, baby.”

  “Moderation, huh? You don’t seem to take your exercise in moderation. You look like you’re pretty fanatical.” Lucy gave him an offhanded once-over, from the top of his wavy hair to the tips of his Nike tennis shoes, making strategic stops along the way, like his rock-hard chest, narrow hips, and…

  Brogan’s easy smile went from friendly to sexy as he returned the blatant perusal, giving her a taste of her own medicine. “You like what you see?” His voice held promises of hot, steamy nights under a blanket of stars, with lots of panting.

  Lucy grunted. “If you’re into athletic-looking, buffed guys…which I’m not.”

  Boisterous laughter filled the car. “No shit! Tony the dick did you a favor, and don’t you ever forget it, Lucy.”

  It would be a long time before she’d ever forget the deviousness of Anthony and the hurt he’d dumped on her. She parked the sleek Jag at the barbecue shack. Old wooden barrels filled with wildflowers flanked the outdoor seating area at the Hog Wild BBQ. Seasoned smells of smoke and roasted pork filled the hot air. On top of the flat tin roof of the shack, a ginormous, smiling pink pig crossed his humanlike arms over the Hog Wild BBQ sign, looking pleased as punch his kin were being butchered inside.

  “Speaking of pigs, Wanda came in the store the other day with Fiona and bought some organic meals.”

  “She mentioned she was putting Fiona on a diet.” Lucy tapped on the closed window at the order counter. “I texted her yesterday. We’re getting together tonight.” She snapped her fingers. “That reminds me. I need to add rope to my list so I can tie Parker to his bed.”

  Brogan slipped off his aviator sunglasses and folded them in the vee of his shirt. “Where are you meeting Wanda?” Wary, she gave him a sharp look. His nonchalant stance with shoulder pressed to the wood-beam column did nothing to ease her distrust.

  “Hey, Lucy, it’s been a long time.” Toby Sheldon poked his head out the order window and saved Lucy from answering Mr. Nosy.

  “Hey, Toby. How you doing?”

  “Can’t complain. What can I get ya?”

  “Quart of barbecue, coleslaw, and Brunswick stew.”

  “You want hush puppies with that?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Comin’ right up.” Toby slid the window closed to the thick air.

  Brogan cleared his throat and gave Lucy the censored-dietitian look.

  “It’s for Parker. You can’t eat barbecue without coleslaw, Brunswick stew, or hush puppies. Everyone knows that. It’s un-Southern.” Lucy pushed her white sunglasses on top of her head. “You’ve been living up North too long.”

  “You’re avoiding my question. Where’re you and Wanda going tonight?” Brogan moved, forcing her to step back until she bumped the water cooler attached to the sidewall. Instead of pulled pork, Lucy smelled mouthwatering Brogan Reese. Her ex-crush and Julia’s ex-lover. Erp. That particular thought sobered her every time.

  “Why do you want to know? You filing a report or something?”

  “Order’s up. Here you go, Lucy. Hey, Brogan.” Toby slid the bags of food across the counter as Brogan greeted Toby.

  Lucy handed over her money. “Thanks. Keep the change.”

  “Sure thing, Luce.” Toby waved the bills in his hand while Brogan grabbed her bags of food.

  “Take care, Toby. See ya later.” She waggled her fingers at Toby’s gapped-tooth grin.

  “Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t ri
se,” Toby shot back. And didn’t that about sum it all up?

  Chapter 11

  Sitting inside Julia’s green minivan in Wanda Pattershaw’s driveway, Lucy tapped on the horn. It was nine o’clock Saturday night, and she almost wished she were home in bed. But she’d promised Wanda they’d get together, and she hated to cancel on her best friend. Wanda’s white clapboard cottage appeared to be freshly painted, along with the half-brick columns supporting the porch in front. Yellow-and-white-striped pillows sat on the green porch swing, and black shutters framed the windows. Lucy had always liked the old cottages and bungalows that dotted the streets of Harmony better than the two-story Georgian brick she’d grown up in. If she ever lived here again, she’d buy one of these older cottages and fix it up. Lucy gave her head a violent shake. Gah! Don’t even go there.

  The bright-yellow front door flung open, and Wanda lurched onto the porch, yanking on a leash.

  “Oh, good Lord almighty,” Lucy moaned. She jumped from the car as Wanda tugged on Fiona’s collar. “Can’t you leave Fiona home?” Sliding open the rear passenger door, Lucy lowered the seat for Fiona to crawl toward the back. Wanda handed her the soft pink blanket she carried.

  “Spread it down so she can snuggle on it,” Wanda directed. Lucy reached inside and spread the fuzzy blanket. “Come on, baby. Hop on up there…good girl.” Wanda petted her snout, and Fiona snorted.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it bad enough you have a pink-spotted pig for a pet? Do you have to attach that stupid sunflower to her head and use that gaudy glitter collar?”

  “Fiona’s depressed, and wearing her favorite collar and flower on her head always makes her happy. Now, quit your whining before I put a glitter collar on you.”

  Lucy laughed. “I’ve missed you.” She gave Wanda a quick hug. “Let’s go. I’m starved, and I need a drink or fifty. It’s been a helluva day.”

  “Did you get everything on Princess Prima Donna’s list done?”

  “Everything except the most important item…new bras and panties.” Fiona gave another snort in the backseat. “Exactly! Even Fiona thinks it’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to buy maternity bras and panties? I have no clue where to go. You think I can buy her undies in jumbo packs at Costco?”