by Sharon Sala
“Mrs. Clark, you parked in a handicapped parking area. Traffic court is next Tuesday.” He tore off the ticket from his book and dropped it in her lap.
Tina’s mouth was agape.
“Mrs. Frederick, your license tag expired in November. Traffic court is next Tuesday.”
Molly’s eyes welled as he dropped the ticket in her lap, but she didn’t speak.
“Mrs. Herd, you parked in front of a fire hydrant. Traffic court is next Tuesday. Your husband is presiding,” he said, and dropped the ticket in her lap.
Angel moaned beneath her breath. “We’re sorry, Chief. We—”
Lon turned his back and walked out.
“Oh my gawd,” Tina muttered.
“My husband is going to kill me,” Angel said.
Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s going to take a blow job before mine gets over this.”
They looked at each other, then at their food, then waved at the waitress to bring them their checks, while across the room Peanut leaned across the table and patted Ruby’s hand.
“So, do we agree on the emcee for this year’s Peachy Keen competition?” he asked.
Ruby nodded. “Yes. Asking Mike Dalton is perfect. He is young, handsome, and personable…and he’s always so calm and organized at his health spa that the competition shouldn’t rattle him at all.”
Peanut grinned. “He calls it a gym, not a health spa.”
“Whatever,” Ruby said. “But we’ll be calling it a health spa for the night of the event.”
Peanut arched an eyebrow. “Remind me never to get on the wrong side of your sweet disposition.”
Ruby sniffed. “There’s no call for meanness.”
“I admire passion.”
Ruby blinked. “Thank you, Peanut.”
He leaned forward. “Would you like more?”
She blinked again. “More?”
“Coffee. Would you like more coffee?”
She sighed. “I would like a refill, but I have a cut and color coming in about ten minutes. I need to get back to the shop.”
“Sure thing,” he said as he tossed some bills on the table and escorted her out.
Chapter 14
Mercy cried all the way out of town. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone get under her skin. She was tougher than that. But after coming to Blessings, she’d let down her guard, thinking she would be safe with family at her back. Obviously, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
When her phone rang, she knew who it would be. One glance at caller ID confirmed it, but she didn’t answer. There was no way she would ever be able to look Lon in the face again.
Then her phone signaled a text. She pulled over to the side of the road and read it, then laid the phone aside, and cried some more. She was so humiliated by the incident that the thought of going back to Blessings made her sick.
Finally, she pulled herself together enough to drive home, and by the time she turned off the main road onto the driveway leading toward the house, she had put away the hurt, determined not to reveal anything about what had happened.
Hope met her at the door with a smile. “Did you have coffee?”
“Hot chocolate,” Mercy said, and kept going to the kitchen with her arms full of sacks of groceries.
Hope followed. “Did you have a good time? Is he adorable or what?”
“He’s adorable,” Mercy said, and kept taking things out of the sacks.
Hope frowned. “You don’t sound like he’s adorable.”
Mercy paused. “No, he is. Really. I like him.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Hope asked.
“Nothing. I’m just thinking about what I’m going to bake first.”
Hope didn’t believe her, but she also saw the jut to Mercy’s jaw and knew she wasn’t going to talk. Something had happened, and sooner or later she would find out.
“I’m going to get the last of the groceries,” Mercy said. “Be right back.”
“I’ll finish putting this stuff away,” Hope said.
The moment Mercy turned away, Hope could tell by the set of her shoulders that something was definitely wrong. It hurt to think Mercy didn’t trust her enough to talk about it, but they were barely a week into this new relationship, and this was to be expected.
When Mercy came back with the last of the groceries, Hope had put the produce in the refrigerator. “I put some beans in to soak after you left. Maybe you could rinse them, and get them onto the stove. It will take at least an hour for them to cook, maybe more,” Hope said.
“Will do,” Mercy said as she emptied the last of the sacks and put the groceries away.
She dug through the pans in the cabinet until she found a good deep one in which to cook the beans and set it on the counter.
Hope got a large piece of smoked ham from the refrigerator and put it in the bottom of the pot as Mercy drained the water from the beans and then dumped them on top of the ham. She added fresh water, salt, pepper, and one small clove of garlic and brought the contents to a boil before she put on the lid and turned down the heat, leaving them to slow cook. “Those will be good for supper,” Hope said.
Mercy nodded.
Hope sighed, then walked up behind her sister, wrapped her arms around her, and gave her a hug. Mercy froze. “I love you, Baby Girl,” Hope whispered.
Tears blurred Mercy’s vision. She patted Hope’s hands and tried to walk away, but Hope wouldn’t let go.
“What happened?”
Mercy shuddered, and Hope felt it.
“Who hurt you? And don’t try telling me nobody, because I know better.”
Mercy sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Anything that shuts you down like this isn’t nothing. If you hurt, I hurt, honey. That’s how being sisters works.”
Mercy took a deep breath and then swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Are you afraid of me?” Mercy asked.
Hope frowned. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be afraid of anything you do?”
Mercy shrugged.
Hope grabbed Mercy by the shoulders and spun her around. When she saw the tears, her eyes narrowed in anger. “Damn it all to hell, Mercy! I’m going to ask you something you can answer. Where was Lon when this happened?”
“Outside taking a call.”
“Where were you?”
“Inside the cafe, waiting for him to come back.”
“Someone said something to you.”
Mercy sighed.
Hope squeezed her shoulders. “Honey, we’re sisters. Talk to me.”
Mercy started to shake, and when she finally did start talking, it was little more than a whisper. “They said I belonged to a biker gang. They said I would ruin Lon’s reputation. They said I was using you and Jack to gain respectability. They said they would be afraid to close their eyes if we were sleeping under the same roof.”
Hope gasped. “Are you serious? Someone actually said that shit to you? What did you do? What did you say?”
Mercy covered her face. “It’s my fault. It’s not like I haven’t heard stuff like this before, but when I came here, I felt safe. I let down my guard.”
Hope ripped Mercy’s hands away from her face and wrapped her into her arms. “That’s bullshit, and not your fault. Don’t ever let me hear you say that again. And you should feel safe. You’re supposed to feel safe where you live. I want to know who said this, and I want to know now.”
The sympathy was too much. Mercy started to cry all over again. One huge sob after another ripped up her throat. She couldn’t stop crying enough to speak.
Hope was livid. She couldn’t hold Mercy tight enough to stop her trembling, and the sound of those sobs broke her heart. She was still holding her when Jack came into the kitchen.
The moment he saw t
hem, he rushed forward and took them both in his arms. “What the hell happened here? Is Mercy hurt? Is she sick? What’s wrong?”
“Someone said terrible things to her in town. I’m going to yank hair from their heads one strand at a time.”
Jack frowned. “Who did that?”
“I’m waiting for names,” Hope muttered. “Would you please bring me a wet washcloth?”
Jack bolted out of the kitchen and ran back with a warm, wet cloth. “Here, honey,” he said.
Hope began wiping the cloth over Mercy’s face as if she were a child, gently wiping away tears and telling her over and over that it would be okay.
“Come sit down,” Jack said, and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table.
Mercy sat, embarrassed all over again that both Hope and Jack had seen her cry. “I’m sorry. I—”
“No!” Hope said. “You do not apologize again for anything.”
Jack pulled out two more chairs, one for Hope and one for him.
“I want names,” Hope said.
“I’m not sure I remember,” Mercy mumbled.
“Concentrate,” Hope said.
Mercy knew she wasn’t going to let this go.
“How many were there?” Hope asked.
“Three. Lon introduced us, but I know bitches when I meet them. As soon as he went outside to take a call…” She shrugged.
“Names,” Hope repeated.
Mercy’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember. “Um…Gina. No, Tina, and another one was Angel, although she was anything but an angel.”
A muscle jerked at the side of Hope’s jaw. “Let me guess. By any chance was the other one Molly?”
Mercy nodded.
Hope’s eyes narrowed in anger as she glanced at Jack. “The same trio who tried to start something with me right before we got married.” Hope cupped Mercy’s chin and tilted it up until they were looking eye to eye. “Jack’s church gave us a wedding shower. Those three women were there. Tina called me a foreigner because my skin was darker than theirs. Molly and Angel said something about Jack liking dark meat.”
Mercy gasped.
“And they made the mistake of saying it where Jack could hear. He went to school with all three and lit into them without mincing words, then rounded up their husbands and told them to take their wives home and teach them some manners. They were no longer welcome at the event.”
“What did the men do?” Mercy asked.
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what they said, but we received written apologies from all three of the women, and expensive wedding gifts, which Hope promptly sent back. Now we just make a point to walk on the other side of the street from each other.”
Mercy drew a slow, shuddering breath, took the tissue Hope handed her, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.
“Does Lon know?” Hope asked.
Mercy nodded. “I guess someone told him after I left. He called, but I couldn’t answer. He sent a text, apologizing for what they’d said.”
Jack put a hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t talk to him about it?”
“No. I couldn’t. I got in the truck and left.”
“Bless your heart,” Jack said. “Whatever they said to you—don’t let it matter. We’re family, and family sticks together, understand?”
“I’m beginning to,” Mercy said softly, and wrapped her arms around Hope’s neck.
Hope hugged her again. “Now, that’s that. We’re not going to talk about those witches again. So what are you going to bake first?”
Mercy was smiling through tears. “What do you want?”
“This is your call,” Hope said. “I’m going to lie down for a bit and leave the whole kitchen to you. How’s that?”
“Good,” Mercy said, already thinking of recipes.
“I’ll be in the office if you need me,” Jack said, and kissed the top of Mercy’s head.
A few moments later, Mercy was alone. She wiped her eyes one last time and got up. It was time to do something constructive.
* * *
Down the hall, Hope and Jack continued to talk about what had happened, and Hope was furious. The longer she thought about it, the more certain she became that they’d hurt Mercy as a way of getting back at her.
“You think so?” Jack asked.
“I wouldn’t put it past them. I know it’s been years since all that happened, but they are the kind of women who hold grudges. They saw an opportunity and took it.”
“What do you think we should do?” Jack asked.
“I need to think on it a bit. Time will present the perfect opportunity, and when it does I am going to make them sorry,” Hope said.
Jack hugged her. “You rock, honey, but you already know I think that, don’t you?”
Hope nodded. “Thank you for being you.”
“Is there something you want me to do?” Jack asked.
“I have to go back to Blessings tomorrow for a surgery follow-up. We need to make sure Mercy comes with us. Like getting back on a horse after you’ve been thrown, she needs to walk those streets and know that she’s both welcome and safe.”
“Agreed. Why don’t you lie back and rest for a while. You’ve been up for several hours.”
“I think I will,” Hope said. “Keep an eye on Mercy in case I fall asleep, will you?”
“Of course, honey. You sleep. I’ve got this.”
Hope fell asleep and missed the sweet aroma of baking cookies wafting through the rooms.
Duke came inside as Mercy was taking the first cookies from the sheet and transferring them to a cooling rack.
“Something sure smells good in here,” Duke said.
Mercy was always at her best when she was baking and smiled as Duke sidled up beside her, obviously angling for a cookie. “Want one?” she asked.
“No, I want two.”
She grinned. “Help yourself. There’s more baking, and more to be baked.”
“Chocolate chip. Mmmm,” he said as he took a big bite. “Oh my word! Delicious.”
Mercy’s heart lifted. It felt good to succeed, even at something as small as a batch of fresh cookies. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to take a couple with me to the office,” Duke said.
Pleased they were a success, Mercy emptied the baking sheet and then set it in the sink before giving the brown beans a quick stir. She was already planning a pan of corn bread to go with the beans.
* * *
Lon worked in the office the rest of the afternoon and was still there when Tina Clark’s husband came to the station. When Avery escorted him into the chief’s office, Lon was not surprised to see him.
“Afternoon, Hank. Have a seat.”
In his younger years, Hank Clark had been a quarterback for the Blessings High School football team. All of the muscles he’d had in school had turned to fat, and the frown he wore was gouged so deep into his soft flesh that the lines on his forehead looked like furrows in plowed ground.
“This isn’t a social call,” Hank muttered.
Lon shrugged. “That’s okay. There’s nothing social about the office of the chief of police. So what’s on your mind?”
Hank shifted nervously. “You gave Tina a ticket!”
“Yes, I did. Did she tell you why?”
Hank waved a hand over the desk in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, something about parking in the wrong place.”
“A handicapped parking place. I believe you spoke on the seriousness of not letting people get away with this at the last city council meeting. Am I right?”
Hank cleared his throat and tugged at his necktie. “I suppose I did, but—”
“Surely you don’t exempt yourself or your family from behaving in a proper, legal manner?”
“Why, no, of course not,” Hank sputtered.
“No, I guess not,” Hank said, and made a quick exit.
Lon went back to work.
About ten minutes later, Avery brought Ronnie Frederick to his office. Ronnie was as nervous and skinny as Hank was brusque and overweight. “Chief?”
Lon waved the man in. “Have a seat, Ronnie.”
“This won’t take long,” Ronnie snapped as he rocked from the toes of his feet to the heels and back again. “You gave my Molly a citation! What on earth were you thinking?”
“Actually, you two don’t pay much attention to your business. I was a little surprised we hadn’t caught it before. We’re almost into February, and the tag on Molly’s car has been expired since last November.”
Ronnie began popping his knuckles in rapid succession. “Oh, I know that, but—”
Lon frowned. “You knew? You knew it and still ignored the laws of the State of Georgia? Exactly how do you justify yourself, sir?”
Despite the cold day, Ronnie Frederick began to sweat. “No, of course not. That came out all wrong.”
Lon glared.
Ronnie’s cell rang. He grabbed his pocket as if that phone had just become the lifesaver he needed to get the hell out of the station before he made a bigger ass of himself than he’d already done. “I’ll get that tag taken care of ASAP,” Ronnie said.
“And you’ll get that fine paid in traffic court as well,” Lon snapped.
“Right! I’ll do that. I need to take this call. Thank you for your time,” Ronnie said and bolted.
A muscle jerked at the corner of Lon’s eye as he turned back to his computer.
Less than an hour later, his desk phone rang. “Chief Pittman,” he said as he answered.
“This is Wesley. Do you have a minute?”
“Hello, Judge. What can I do for you?” Lon asked.
“Angel just told me about that little citation you gave her today.”
“The one about blocking a fire hydrant?” Lon asked.
He heard the judge take a deep breath and guessed he was about to try to make the citation disappear.
Wesley chuckled. “Oh hell, Lon. We both know it was just an oversight on her part. I don’t really see any need in taking this to traffic court.”