by Tina Leonard
“Good. Because you’re going to get one.” She went out with a handful of nuts. Paris followed, hoping one might fall her way.
“Opportunistic hound,” Jake said. “Hello, Maggie. Sugar.” He bussed Maggie, who beamed, and nodded at Sugar, who tried not to notice he didn’t get near her. “Do you mind if I head upstairs?”
Sugar shook her head. “Help yourself.”
He looked at her. “Are we okay?”
She shrugged. “Good enough.” What else could she say? “Thanks for letting me stay at your house.” Sugar took a deep breath. “Now that Lucy’s room has been completely knocked back to the studs practically, I’ll be okay staying here from now on.”
She thought his face fell a bit. “All right,” Jake said. “You’re welcome any time.”
“Thanks.” She turned away for a moment, then had to know. “Jake, did they ever find out anything about the man in Lucy’s bed?”
He nodded. “After checking Lucy’s blog—which is actually quite amusing, by the way, really commercial and attention-getting—the authorities traced him back to his home town. Turns out he was a pervert, and I guess Lucy’s tales of erotic pecans were just too much to resist. He wanted to meet her.”
Maggie sucked in a breath. Sugar turned to look at her mother. “Are you all right, Mom?”
Maggie nodded, patted her pockets again for a cigarette. “You know, I think I’ll get out my mother’s old recipe for mimosas,” she said to Jake. “Maybe a Bloody Mary. You want one, Jake?”
“Sure. I’m always game for a good kick in my day.” He looked at Sugar. “The guy had a massive infarction. Who knows if it was from the excitement of breaking and entering or just old, perverted age.”
Maggie turned around from the drinks she was mixing. Sugar saw her mother’s hands were trembling. “I do hate that word,” she said.
Sugar stared at her mother. “What word?”
Maggie blinked. “You know. Pervert.”
“Oh. God, Mom. It’s all right. Here, let me mix those for you.”
“I’ll do it,” Jake said. “I spend a good bit of time mixing drinks at my place.” He helped Maggie over to a wicker chair in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Maggie. If anybody should be aware of what language to avoid around the gentler sex, it’s me.”
Sugar knelt at her mother’s knees. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said briskly. “Hormone surge.”
“Nothing a stiff Bloody Mary won’t fix,” Jake said, going over to the counter and finishing what Maggie had started.
Sugar looked at her mother. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said. “It was just hard knowing some nasty man snuck into my daughter’s bed.”
Maggie said she was fine, but she still trembled. Jake handed her the “stiffener”, and Maggie drained it on the spot.
“More where that came from,” Jake said cheerfully. “Coming right up.”
“Nope,” Maggie said, getting up. “At this hour of the day, a lady limits herself to one. I’m going to take a walk in the grove.”
She went off, and Jake shrugged at Sugar before heading out of the kitchen.
“Jake.”
He turned around. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Caring.” Sugar thought about everything she knew today that she hadn’t known before, and decided maybe it was better to throw caution to the wind. “I need your help.”
“Name it, gorgeous.”
Sugar pondered her options, then took the leap.
“We’re going to enter a secret float in the Christmas parade. I’m sure there’s paperwork involved, and at the end of that paperwork is probably a council of Pillars, namely your mother, that approves everything.”
He nodded. “True.”
“We want our float to be top secret. I’d like for you to figure out a way to file our paperwork without us getting blowback from your mother.”
He leaned against the counter, looking sexy as sin. Sugar allowed herself to bask in his devil-may-care smile for a moment. “Can’t do it, babe.”
“Won’t do it.” She looked at him with attitude.
“Right.” He grinned. “I’d like to help you another way.”
“That’s new,” Sugar said, not about to let him off the hook.
“Yeah, well. Never let it be said that old dogs aren’t happy to learn new tricks.” He took one of her curls between his fingers, tugged lightly on it. “Here’s the deal. The billboard into town was reserved for two months, November and December, to maximize holiday traffic into PC.”
She nodded. “Which has nothing to do with me, as you’ve pointed out several times.”
He grinned, tapping her finger. “I think this time it might. What would you think about all that traffic running through Texas checking out your business in January?”
“The deadest month for retail in the year?” Sugar asked. “Are you cutting me a deal?”
“How about January and February?” Jake said. “A Valentine campaign for pecans would probably be successful.”
She narrowed her gaze. “How much?”
“On the house.” He grinned, and Sugar felt herself get a little weak in the knees, which she ignored. Made herself ignore a little more. It was difficult when a man looked that good in worn blue jeans, black work boots, untucked flannel shirt and a dark Stetson crowning his eyes.
“On the house? Why would you do that for us?”
He shrugged. “To compensate you for your troubles. To thank you for not suing me over the dead perv guy.” He glanced around to make sure Maggie wasn’t nearby to overhear him use the terminology she didn’t want to hear.
“Why would we sue? He came to see Lucy.”
“Tenants always sue. Could be the locks weren’t good enough; could be any excuse.” Jake glanced upstairs. “But mainly, I’m just trying to lure you into staying in my life, Sugar Cassavechia.”
“Really,” Sugar said, her voice flat.
“Hell, yeah,” Jake said, leaning over and kissing her a fast one on the lips; then he jogged up the stairs to check on the workmen.
Sugar touched her lips. Born salesman, yes, he was.
But oh my goodness, the man made her crazy for him. Absolutely nuts.
Chapter Twenty-One
Two weeks before the parade—which was scheduled the day before the kids got out of school for Thanksgiving break—the Cassavechias stood in Jake’s barn, staring at their secret float.
“Vivian’s going to poop her proper drawers,” Lucy observed.
Maggie laughed. “It will do her good. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when we pull out in front of Santa Claus.”
Sugar walked around the float. It burst with silver streamers and huge white and red and green pecan trees. Instead of throwing candy, they would toss tiny Hotter than Hell Nuts bags to the crowd. The bags were tied off with little pink-and-silver ribbons. She and Lucy would be the float “queens”, each of them dressing in red velvet skirts—very short in Lucy’s case—and before the day was over, their family business would no longer be secret.
“Bobby did a great job on the trees,” Sugar said. “You didn’t tell me he was such an amazing builder.”
“He’s wonderful with his hands.” Lucy beamed as she looked at the lights strung around the trees. “I think I’ve finally found the man of my dreams.”
Sugar looked at her sister. She had never thought to hear those words come out of her sister’s mouth. “That’s awesome, Lucy.”
“Funny thing is, I can see myself living in Pecan Creek.” Lucy scattered some more glitter over the float. “I like it here. I even like ol’ Vivian.”
“You do?” Sugar and Maggie said in unison.
Lucy shrugged. “She doesn’t bother me. I get her. I figured her out, and then I realized I kind of admired her.”
Sugar and Maggie sank onto a couple of hay bales. “She’s done nothing bu
t be annoying to you since we got here,” Sugar pointed out.
Lucy put some more red paint on the letters that spelled Hotter than Hell Nuts on the side of the float in huge, can’t-miss glory. “Yeah, I don’t care. The military prepared me for blowhards.” She beamed at her artwork. “I love this float. It rocks.”
Maggie looked at the float. “I’m a bit nervous.”
“Don’t be.” Lucy hugged her mother. “You let Vivian intimidate you, and I always thought you couldn’t be intimidated by anyone.”
“I’m at the age where I don’t like waves.” Maggie stuck a hand through her puffed hair. “I know she’s got it in for my girls, and that makes me mad.”
Lucy sat down by Maggie and Sugar. “Let me tell you how I see ol’ fire-breathing Viv. Viv admires good-hearted hos.”
Sugar turned to stare at her sister. “Good-hearted hos?”
“Yeah. Ladies who do what they have to do to survive. The first clue to Vivian’s soul is the décor in our house.” Lucy grinned. “You have two rooms that are an ode to good-hearted hos, Belle Watling of Gone with the Wind, and Mona Stangley, Dolly Parton’s character in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Neither one of those ladies was from the acceptable side of society, but both of them were very admirable characters. And they were pillars of their communities, albeit perhaps not from the right side of the tracks. But everyone knew they were doing good.” Lucy looked at them. “Vivian admires good-hearted hos because she saw herself as doing what she had to do to raise Jake after his father abandoned them. Hence, her own version of the Chicken Ranch in Pecan Creek. Only she couldn’t let it seem as if she was one of those kinds of women, so she pulled the reins tight on the town and makes sure everyone toes the line of purity and honesty. It’s pretty clever, if you think about it, even if she’s doing it subconsciously. It shows she has a good heart, underneath all the iron-fist-in-the-lacy-glove stuff.”
Sugar and Maggie glanced at each other. Sugar could tell her mother was as dumbfounded as she was.
“So what about the other two bedrooms as windows into Vivian’s soul?” Maggie asked.
“Those are the ‘guy’ characters, neither of them entirely honorable, counterpoint to Belle Watling and Mona Stangley,” Lucy explained. “Neither J.R. Ewing nor the American Gigolo were particularly interested in anything but their own pleasure.” She got up to toss some glitter on the letters. “They were not heroes. They were,” Lucy continued, “Vivian’s vision of the way she came to see men—selfish, self-involved and sexual beasts. Therefore, all discussion of sex must absolutely be avoided in Pecan Creek. Trust me, there’s a lot of sex going on, but nobody is ever going to bring it up, or Vivian’s carefully constructed image of Pecan Creek will no longer exist. Most folks are pretty happy with the primness here, because except for the random freak occurrence like our dead guy, the town is safe. Locked in its bubble.”
“Yowza,” Sugar said, “I would never have spent so much time analyzing Vivian Bentley’s psyche.”
Lucy laughed. “It was fun to pick her apart. She’s not really a villainess. Anyway, the real poop she’s going to have is when she sees what I’m doing to her bedroom. I’m staying with the theme of famous characters in entertainment, but I’m classing up the joint.”
Sugar blinked. “Lucy, I might be scared.”
“I figured Jake out too. Remember when he told us that he and his mother had a huge debate over the American Gigolo room, but he wouldn’t tell us if he was for it or against it?”
Maggie and Sugar nodded.
“Guess,” Lucy said.
“He designed it,” Maggie guessed.
“I don’t care,” Sugar said. “But I’m guessing it was Vivian’s idea, and Jake wasn’t on board.” She got up to plug in the lights, and the float exploded with twinkly, winking colored lights. “I base my hypothesis on the fact that what I know of Jake makes me believe he would have either gone with a James Dean Rebel without a Cause room or a Star Trek room. He has some rebel going on, and I wouldn’t put him past some trekkie fantasy.” She thought about her theory for a few seconds, then nodded. “Probably more James Dean, though.”
“Exactly.” Lucy laughed. “He’s a traditionalist. I think American Gigolo would have been too hard-edged and contemporary for Jake. And it is. People love the over-drama of the other three rooms, but the AG room is just too overt.” Lucy sat down again, staring at the float. “If Vivian had a Gere thing going on, she should have gone with Pretty Woman. The good-hearted-ho theme would have remained intact.”
Sugar nodded. “You’re right. But that’s not the movie you chose.”
“No.” Lucy looked gleeful. “Sort of keeping the theme but getting away from the super-sex theme. It’s my dream bedroom. My dream life, maybe. Every girl’s dream. And maybe, just maybe, my dream will come true.”
“You want to be an actress?” Sugar asked.
Lucy wagged a finger. “You can’t tease any hints out of me.”
“Well, with all the robin’s egg blue going on, all I can think of is a Disney movie.” Sugar shrugged. “Like The Little Mermaid or something.”
Lucy shook her head. “Forget about it. You’ll never guess.”
Maggie got up. “I have to talk to you. Both of you.”
Sugar looked at Maggie, who no longer had a playful, bemused smile on her face as she’d listened to her daughters’ theories and musings about the Bentley family. Surprised, Sugar realized her mother looked worried.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Sugar asked.
Maggie’s hands worked nervously. “I can’t sit here and talk about Vivian when I’ve been no prize as a mother. God knows we sit around and dissect her behavior, and heaven knows she’s no warm fuzzy, but she’s not the devil, either. And she’s no worse than me.”
“Maggie!” Lucy looked at her mother. “You’re a good mother. You’re a nice person. Everyone loves you.”
Maggie sat down between her daughters, picked up their hands, touching her cheek to each hand. “I’ve been needing to get this off my chest for so long. I hope you’ll still believe the best of me when I tell you this.”
Sugar blinked. “Whatever you have to say isn’t going to change how much we love you, Mom.”
“Exactly.” Lucy kissed Maggie on the cheek.
Maggie released their hands. She drew a deep breath. “You probably don’t remember much about my second husband.”
Sugar stiffened. She remembered.
But she wasn’t about to say anything. Her blood ran cold inside her, her own guilt bothering her. She couldn’t take it if Maggie made some confession that she’d never gotten over the man. Shithead was lucky he’d escaped with his head still on his body. Sugar looked at a barn wall, focused her attention on her mother’s pain.
“I don’t remember a whole lot about him,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”
“You were pretty young, not even a teenager,” Maggie said. “Sugar probably remembers him a little more.”
Sugar met her mother’s gaze. She didn’t say a word.
“I’m so sorry, Sugar,” Maggie said. “I was in the hall that night. I heard what you did.”
Sugar’s body went completely stiff. She couldn’t move.
“And I thank you for what you did,” Maggie continued, touching Sugar’s cheek. “I’m just so sorry I wasn’t a better mother. I’m sorry you had to fight that battle alone. But thank you for being so brave.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Lucy demanded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sugar quickly said, protective of Lucy.
“It matters,” Maggie said softly, “because you’ve borne everything ever since then.”
“My God, will someone tell me what’s going on?” Lucy demanded.
“I had no idea, Sugar,” Maggie said. “I’m ashamed to say that. But I really didn’t. It wasn’t a case of ignoring clues or anything. I sincerely didn’t know he was…a pervert.” Maggie’s eyes glimmered with distress. “I’ve wondered f
or years how I could tell you that I was sorry. But I didn’t know how to say it. It’s not easy to speak up and admit you’ve been harboring some kind of monster.”
“My God,” Lucy said, “will someone please tell me what the hell happened? Who the hell was a pervert?”
Sugar put her arms around her mother. “It wasn’t your fault, Mom. He was a worm. And you deserved so much better.”
“Jesus,” Lucy said, “are you talking about our stepfather? Was he a pervert?”
Maggie nodded, turning to face Lucy, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I am so sorry.”
Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be sorry to me. Nobody ever molested me. I can assure you, I was a virgin until Bobby German got in my— I mean—” She cut herself off. “I mean, I was never molested. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
Maggie turned to Sugar. Sugar’s heart spiraled at the pain in her mother’s eyes. “Let it go, Maggie,” she said. “Lucy doesn’t remember. She was sound asleep.”
“Lucy doesn’t remember what?” Lucy demanded. “I can remember numbers from ten years ago and can memorize four pages of text without missing a word. What doesn’t Lucy remember?”
Maggie held her daughters’ hands again. “My husband went into your bedroom one night. Sugar saw him go in.”
“Oh shit,” Lucy said. “Did you leave him any balls, Sugar? Is that why he left in the night?” Lucy gasped. “Sugar! Did you kill him?”
A slight smile touched Maggie’s face. Even Sugar smiled—just a bit.
“I didn’t kill him. I just helped him leave our house.”
“Poor bastard,” Lucy said. “Did I just sleep through all the excitement like a baby? I probably never moved, did I?”
Sugar shook her head. “You slept like a princess, Lucy. Which is just the way it should have been.” Once again the rage washed over her. Sugar had to blink back the white light of fury that had never left her that night.
“I was in the hall,” Maggie said. “I saw him go in. I froze. I’m so ashamed of that.”
“Mom, stop.” Sugar pulled Maggie to her. “If you’ve been beating yourself up about this all these years, you shouldn’t have.”