Not So New in Town

by Michele Summers

  “No, but thanks. I appreciate your offer.” She pointed to Parker, still shuffling his feet and not making eye contact. “In the house, Parker, now. And don’t wake up your mom.” Parker skipped up the steps, brushing past them both.

  After the front door closed, Lucy said, “We’re sticking with that six a.m. thing, huh?”

  “Sorry. But Parker could use the discipline.”

  Lucy could just about forgive him, because his fingers toyed with her hoop earring, short-circuiting her brain and turning it into mushy applesauce. Almost. “Krispy Kreme doughnuts. No substitute.”

  “Try to get some sleep.” Brogan brushed her lips with a soft kiss and then moved down the steps toward his car. Lucy struggled to wrap her head around what had just transpired. “Hillbilly Bone” rang from her phone, jolting her back to reality. Blippity blast.

  Julia.

  * * *

  Lucy found Parker in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a glass of ice water. “Your mom’s awake. You going in there with me?”

  Parker smeared the condensation on the glass. “I guess so,” he said with all the conviction of a crooked politician.

  “Oh, okay. Let me bring Julia a fresh glass of water.” Could she be any more pathetic? She dreaded Julia’s wrath as much as Parker did. Lucy balled her fist to keep from twirling a strand of hair. She and Parker performed dead-men-walking down the hallway as if heading to the electric chair. The glass in Parker’s hand shook, and a drop of water splattered on Lucy’s shoe.

  “Head up. Shoulders back. Take it like a man.” Lucy squeezed Parker’s arm.

  “What in the hell is going on around here?” Lucy had pushed the door open to a glaring, furious Julia, sitting straight up in bed with her bedside lamp on.

  “Hey, Julia. Sorry we woke you. Would you like some water?” Lucy spoke in the same voice she would’ve used while approaching a mad mama mountain lion protecting her cubs. Not that she’d ever do that in a gazillion years, but she thought that might be how she’d sound.

  “Parker, why aren’t you in bed? And why did I get a call from Miss Sue Percy, saying she saw you in the back of Andy Taylor’s police car? Please tell me that woman has lost her ability to spread gossip along with her eyesight,” Julia demanded.

  “Mom, it’s okay. Nothing bad happened,” Parker had the nerve to say. “Don’t get all cray-cray. Aunt Lucy can explain.” Parker sent Lucy a begging look. The weasel.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, trying for one of Julia’s bitchy glare-downs. When his lips tipped up in a sneaky smile, she knew her glare had failed.

  “Will someone please tell me what is going on? I’m losing my patience. Lucy?”

  “Sure. What Parker is trying to say is he snuck out tonight and met some friends, and in their infinite wisdom, they decided to hurl raw eggs at moving cars on State Road 54.”

  Julia’s shocked gaze flicked to Parker. “Parker, is this true?” she asked in a surprisingly even tone.

  “Yeah, sorta,” the weasel had the nerve to say.

  “Sorta? Parker, would you mind manning up here. Or do I tell your mom exactly what Officer Taylor will do to you the next time you even spit in the wrong direction?”

  “Parker, finish. The truth.”

  Parker shuffled over to the bed and eased down at the foot. He placed his big hand over the pink blanket covering Julia’s calves. “It’s not that bad, Mama-bear,” he said, using a sweet voice that would one day win over many young girls’ hearts. “Connor, Duncan, and I were just hanging out, and we got bored. And then Duncan thought it would be fun to throw eggs at cars. I dunno. It was dumb.” He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “But we didn’t hurt anyone, and we only hit, like, two cars.”

  “Oh, Parker.” Julia sighed. “What’s going on with you? This is not like you.”

  Uh, not really. Time for a wake-up call. Lucy blurted, “Julia, this boy of yours is gonna turn into a juvie if you…we don’t do something about it.”

  “Lucy, don’t be so melodramatic. Parker’s just a teenage boy. They do all sorts of stupid stuff. Are you forgetting how you were as a teenager?” A rush of guilt flooded Lucy at Julia’s know-it-all stare. “I don’t recall any of us turning into juvies. He’s learned his lesson and won’t do it again, will you, Parker?”

  That did it. “Give me a break. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I don’t recall any of us committing felonies. Parker, you were wrong and could’ve gotten in a whole heap of trouble. A felony is nothing to joke about. Not to mention, you could’ve hurt someone. What if that had been old man Cornwaddle driving down the road, and he swerved into a telephone pole because you scared the crap out of him? And Vance Kerner wasn’t too pleased either. You’re lucky he’s not pressing charges.” Parker had the sense to look embarrassed and maybe a little ashamed. “And what about how you lied to me? You swore on your signed Dan Marino football that you would go straight to bed and not sneak—” Lucy stopped at his warning glare. “Er, you promised you would go straight to bed,” she finished. She’d forgotten Julia didn’t know about the escapade the night before. She wondered why she felt compelled to keep the little sneaker’s secret.

  “Lucy’s right. I’m very disappointed.” Julia reached over and grabbed his hand. “I want you to promise me that you’ll behave. You know it’s not healthy for me or the baby to get upset.” Parker’s sullen, bored mask slipped into place. “Do you understand?” He paused and then gave a half nod. “Now, go on up to bed. I need to speak with Lucy.”

  Parker rose, hesitated before bending down and kissing his mom on the cheek. “Love you, Mama,” he whispered.

  Julia ruffled his dark wavy hair. “Love you too, my sweet pickle.”

  As soon as Parker closed the bedroom door, Julia slumped against her pillows and squeezed her eyes closed. “Dammit.” Tears leaked from the corners and trickled down her porcelain face.

  “Julia, you okay? Can I get you anything?” Fear and anxiety gripped Lucy. This vulnerable, exposed side frightened her more than Julia’s bitchy, scary side.

  “Have a seat. We need to talk.”

  Lucy willed her stiff legs to move, and she backed up to the prissy pink chair. “Sure. Go ahead. Talk.”

  Julia’s bright-blue eyes appeared dull and hard. “We need to talk about Parker’s dad.”

  Thunk went Lucy’s butt as she hit the seat of the chair. “You mean Parker’s dad…like in real dad?”

  “Yeah. His real dad.” Julia lowered her head and talked to the fringe on the blanket between her fingers. “I’ve never told anyone the truth. By the time I realized I was pregnant and had decided to keep the baby, we’d already broken up.”

  Lucy gulped. “He…the father doesn’t know? You never told him about Parker?”

  Julia eased back until her head rested against the lace pillows, and she stared up at the light-blue ceiling with painted clouds and cherubs, an offensive imitation of the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. Poor Michelangelo had to be weeping huge tears. “Not exactly. He didn’t know at first, and I kept it from him because I was angry and hurt and afraid. But when Parker was three years old, I finally got up the nerve to tell him.”

  Lucy didn’t like the crooked path this story was taking. She didn’t feel a happy-smiling-laughing-everyone-cheering ending coming up. “What happened?”

  “The usual. He denied it. Called me a whore, along with a few other choice names, and told me never to speak to him again.” Lucy winced. “He wanted nothing to do with me or Parker. Can’t say I blamed him. He was married by then and had his own family to worry about. He was not about to take on me or Parker, and he certainly didn’t want me blabbing to his wife about his illegitimate son.”

  “Okay. That was really bad. What did you do?” I don’t want to know! her head screamed.

  “What could I do?” She gave Lucy a resigned look. “I was only twenty-two at t
he time, and he was about twenty-seven. He is…was a popular man with a great career ahead of him, and I was just a nobody. I feared how it would affect Parker. So I kept my mouth shut…spread a bunch of silly rumors to all the right people around town, and went back to work.”

  Man. Lucy’s mind hit a wall over the word man. Popular man. Who the hoot had Julia gotten mixed up with? This didn’t sound like a stupid high school girl having sex with another stupid high school boy down by the lake. This sounded worse…a lot worse.

  “I’m only telling you so you’ll know why I’ve kept Parker in the dark. I’m aware it’s wrong, and he’s old enough to know the truth, but I can’t seem to go there with him…yet. And now this pregnancy, which I think Parker resents.” Julia pressed her hand against her belly. “I’m at my wits’ end. I need help with Parker. I don’t want him to hate me because I screwed up. I don’t want to raise a worthless juvie who turns into a worthless adult.”

  Lucy nodded. She understood. But how could she help? How could she correct this? “Okay, tell me. Who’s Parker’s dad?” she asked above a whisper.

  Julia licked her dry lips. “Joe Monahan. He’s Parker’s father. Was. He’s dead now.”

  Drawing a blank, Lucy asked, “Who? Do I know him?”

  “Coach Monahan? Remember the football coach at school?”

  Lucy’s mouth worked, but no sound came out for several seconds. “Coach Monahan? As in Harmony High’s winningest coach in the history of Harmony High? That Coach Monahan?”

  “The one and only.”

  “How…where…why…how did it happen? Did he rape you?” Lucy leaned forward and grabbed Julia’s hand, squeezing it hard. “Because if he did…I will dig up his sorry flat ass from whatever grave he’s buried in right now and kill him again with my bare hands.”

  Julia squeezed her hand back. “No. Stop. It wasn’t like that. It was consensual. I knew what I was doing, and believe me, I wanted it.” Julia gave a brief, sad smile. “I chased him…he didn’t stand a chance.”

  “But, Julia, you were barely an adult. He should’ve known better.”

  “Lucy, he wasn’t much older. He started coaching right out of college. I was only eighteen when the affair started and he was twenty-three. How many twenty-three-year-old guys did you know who exercised any common sense?”

  Not many. Still didn’t. “Did you have a long…fling or whatever?” Lucy couldn’t quite put a name to it. Affair sounded too grown-up for what Julia had done back in high school.

  “Long enough. Long enough for me to fall head over heels, and for him to get tired of me and move on.”

  “That slime bucket! He’d better be glad he’s dead.” Julia chuckled at Lucy’s staunch defense of her. “How did he die? I hope it was long and painful.”

  Julia’s expression sobered. “It was. He had stomach cancer. I heard he suffered in the end. He left a wife and two kids.”

  Now she felt terrible. She didn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. No matter how angry she got. “Three kids. You forgot Parker.”

  “No. I’ve never forgotten Parker.” Julia’s long, dark hair brushed her shoulders as she shook her head. “But I’m going to lose him if I don’t get some help. That’s why I need you.”

  Lucy fought the urge to check over her shoulder to see if someone else was in the room. In all the years she’d known her, Julia had never once admitted that she needed Lucy. Of course, she’d asked her to come home because she was bedridden, and Babs couldn’t be bothered to leave the NASCAR circuit to help her only daughter. And Lucy had jumped at the chance. Not because she’d been dumped and was out of a job, but because she’d wanted to reconnect with her family and make things up to Julia. But Julia had never said she needed Lucy, like tonight, wearing a solemn expression with tears brimming in her eyes.

  “I’m here. But what can I do? Short of handcuffing him to my side, I’m at a loss. He’s not exactly too happy to have me babysitting as it is.”

  “I know it’s tough, but you won’t be doing it alone. First of all, I’ll help. Even stuck in this freakin’ bed. Make sure he comes in to see me at least twice a day. I want to keep talking to him.”

  “Okay, that will kill about thirty minutes. What about the remaining twenty-three-and-a-half hours?”

  “Football practice will take up a lot of time, but you still can’t handle him, I know. That’s why you need to join forces.”

  “With whom? The Harmony Huggers? The Happy Hookers, that group of old ladies who crochet every day at the Daily Grind?”

  Julia ignored her. “Parker needs a strong male influence in his life. Not those derelicts he hangs out with.”

  “Man? What man do I know?” Lucy stopped at the gleam that sparked in Julia’s blue eyes. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

  “Brogan.”

  She’d said it.

  Chapter 16

  Monday afternoon, Brogan whistled as he pulled the baking pans from the oven with his fresh batch of hot, crunchy granola. The kitchen smelled of honey, oats, and the bread Margo had baked earlier.

  “What’s got you so happy, Mr. Wideberth?” Margo asked in her rough voice. “It’s not like we got a herd of customers busting down that front door.”

  “Changes are coming. We will soon have just that…customers busting down our door.”

  “How? You gonna perform like Magic Mike and strip? I might be offended, but most of the women in this town would eat the granola right off your overly buffed chest.”

  “Margo, your thoughts must keep you awake at night. Not only am I not stripping…ever. But the thought of having granola eaten off my chest is beyond gross.” A vision of Lucy leaning over him, long hair acting as a drape and a smile lighting her face as she licked granola off his bare chest made his cock twitch. Brogan pinched the bridge of his nose. Stupid, Reese. Kissing Lucy had been a huge mistake. A huge, awesome, mind-blowing mistake. Because now he knew exactly how she tasted and felt and smelled, and he wanted more. He wanted all of Lucy…heart and soul, and that scared the living crap right out of him.

  “Granola, honey, maple syrup…whatever. You need to stir up something around here. What’s Javier working on? Maybe you guys could do a routine together. The Latin Lover and the American Gigolo.”

  “Two words. Sick. Mind.” Brogan shook his head at Margo’s flour-spattered face. “You just keep baking and let me worry about sales. Besides, I’m bringing someone on board to help with that very problem.”

  Margo peeled off her apron. “Good. Need to check supplies,” she said, lifting a clipboard from a peg on the wall. “Hello, there.”

  Brogan glanced up, and Lucy stood inside the back door with a manila folder pressed to her chest. Relief flooded Brogan, since he’d had no idea if she’d show or not.

  “I’m Margo, in charge of baked goods, and you must be what we’ve all been waiting for.”

  Lucy gave a questioning look. “Lucy Doolan. Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand.

  Margo smiled, shaking Lucy’s hand. “So you’re Lucy…heard a lot about you. Welcome aboard…I hope,” she said before disappearing into the stockroom.

  Brogan brushed his hands on the apron tied around his waist, then removed it as Lucy’s slanted gray eyes pinned him with a long, assessing look.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Glad you could make it.” He gestured to the metal door that led to his office. “We can talk in here.”

  Lucy nodded.

  He pushed the door closed, separating them from the kitchen, into a small, cramped room. “Have a seat.” He scooped up some loose folders on the guest chair and stacked them neatly on top of the gray metal desk. He dropped into the black leather executive chair. “You have a decision for me?” He rested his hands on top of the desk, trying to strike a pose of complete control when he felt anything but. In the closed-off office, the scent of L
ucy’s citrus filled the room, making it hard to concentrate on business and not the full bottom lip she gnawed with her teeth. He tried not to stare, but everywhere his gaze traveled felt unsafe. From the nautical-striped blue-and-white silk tank top over a short white skirt, down to the patent-leather orange sandals. Thin gold-and-turquoise bangles jingled on her wrists, and a knotted gold necklace circled her neck. A step up from the Lucy of yesterday morning, walking in hot-pink jogging shorts and a black T-shirt with “I will cut you” across her chest, belting classic Blondie off-key. He and Parker had laughed so hard they could barely finish their run.

  “That depends.”

  He arched a brow. “On what?”

  “On whether you accept my terms.”

  Brogan bit back a smile. He had a few terms of his own, but he didn’t think she’d be in the mood to hear them right now. Plastering his business mask on, he nodded. “Whatcha got?”

  “Okay. Well, the only way I’ll work for you is if you agree to the following.” Lucy opened the manila folder in her lap and tipped up the list on top. “I know this job is only part-time, but you’re gonna get more than you bargained for. I’ll be putting in long hours late at night, especially with scheduling the social media.”

  Brogan nodded. He understood Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and other social outlets needed twenty-four-hour surveillance.

  “I’ll work for forty dollars an hour.” Lucy gauged his reaction, but Brogan had won many games of chance. His poker face didn’t give anything away.

  She glanced at her sheet. “I’ll need an expense account. Most of what I’ll be doing will be online and not wasting advertising dollars, but I’ll also be setting up promotions and meetings, and my expenses will need to be covered for travel, food, and so on.” She shifted in her seat. “Which brings up transportation.” Brogan leaned forward but remained quiet. This list got better and better. Little Lucy was angling for a car, and he didn’t blame her. Her old broken-down clunker probably wasn’t worth repairing.