The next week was a blur, somehow managing to go too fast and too slow all at the same time. Loretta hadn’t had any life insurance—not that it would have made a difference since most insurance companies are sticklers for the whole ‘no-suicide’ clause—so I’d dug in to my savings and paid for everything in cash. Even keeping things as plain and simple as possible without being insulting had cost me close to five thousand dollars. I wasn’t bankrupt but my fallback cushion was a helluva lot less comfy than I liked.

My oldest nephew and niece, Johnny and June—Loretta had loved her country music—hadn’t made the funeral. Johnny was in the middle of a five year stretch in the penitentiary for car theft and June... well, she’d run off with her English teacher two years ago, right after her seventeenth birthday. Nobody had seen or heard from her since although if the English teacher’s ex-wife was to be believed, they’d gone west to Nevada. At least that was the address the child support checks came from—court-ordered, of course.

None of Loretta’s ex-husbands had shown up, either. The first was Johnny and June’s father and if I was being honest I hadn’t expected to see him. The second was responsible for Tammy while the third could lay claim to Dolly and Conway. Not that any of them ever had—once they shook Cotton Creek’s dust off their boots, they were gone, well and truly. Not that they weren’t talked about—even at the funeral, more than a few people had been more than a bit liberal with their discussion of Loretta’s love life.

Was it any wonder my head was pounding like a fucking drum?

“Aunt Jeannie.”

I didn’t curse but I dearly wanted to. Keeping my eyes closed, I said, “What, Tammy.”

“Well, I’m thinking we need to talk.”

And here I was thinking I needed about six beers and a couple of Vicodin so I could sleep through the night. Biting back a sigh, I opened my eyes. “Tammy, it’s been a helluva day. I think we’d all be better off waiting until tomorrow to have any kind of discussion.”

“I already put Dolly and Conway to bed so it’s just you and me.” She lowered herself to the sofa across from me, tucking the hem of her knee-length skirt tight around her. She’d been blessed—or rather cursed—with my genetics but between her babysitting money and Loretta, she was able to afford clothes which actually fit, so she still looked like a teenager and not a pinup girl. Pushing her chin length hair behind her ears, she said, “I think you and I need to talk about what’s going to happen next.”

“Tammy, at the moment the only thing I want to happen is sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.” I stretched my legs out, examining my toenails. I’d planned on getting a pedicure while I was in Atlanta, mostly because I was bored with my pink polish. Now, I’d either have to find someone in town or drive two hours to the nearest good-sized city. “It’s been a long day.”

Long and miserable and if the look on my niece’s face was any indication it was far from over.

“Well, yes, but I think me and Dolly and Conway have a right to know what’s going to happen to us.” She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at me, the snooty effect somewhat ruined by the trembling lower lip she couldn’t quite control. “Whether we’re going to get shipped off to some home somewhere or get hauled all over God’s green creation while you do your work.”

“I know Loretta liked to keep a bottle of Jim Beam in the back of the top kitchen cabinet.” I narrowed one eye and raised my brows. “You haven’t been sneaking any of it, have you?”

“No.” If she was feigning her shock, I sure hoped she was putting her acting skills to use in Drama Club. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, a little bit because that’s what I would do but mostly because you’re sitting over there talking nonsense like you’re three sheets to the wind.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Nobody is going anywhere, Tammy. Not even me.”

Which was only one more reason for the low grade headache I’d been carrying around the last week. Any moment I hadn’t spent dealing with the funeral I’d been on the phone with either Bill or Allison, doing everything I could to rearrange not only the magazine but my life. I’d have my furniture and clothes and other odds and ends within the next few days—Allison had already found someone to sublet the apartment, so I didn’t need to worry about that expense. I’d bitten the bullet and hired on three new writers, all of them more than eager to travel all over the country and sleep in shitty hotels. I was, for the foreseeable future, riding a desk.

“But Ms. Jones said—.”

“Tammy, I’m surprised your mother didn’t tell you but one of the last people you should listen to about anything requiring more than two brain cells is Dana Jones.” The headache was only getting stronger and I knew if I didn’t take something and soon I was going to wind up with the sort of migraine which knocked me out for two or three days. “Come on, let’s go in the kitchen.”

The room was laughably small, the dishes scattered everywhere only emphasizing the lack of space. People had brought food, the way they always do when something tragic and gossip-worthy happens. I wasn’t fond of tuna casserole or Frito Pie but I was less fond of cooking and, as I’d been told often enough growing up, beggars can’t be choosers. Granted, I wasn’t exactly a beggar these days but it just seemed rude and wasteful to turn down free food.

It took a few tries but I finally found the Tylenol. Ignoring Tammy’s impatient sighs, exaggerated in the way only a teenager can do, I poured myself a glass of Mrs. Sheriff Underwood’s—and Lord was that a mouthful—sweet tea, using it to wash down the medicine. It was cold enough and sweet enough to make my teeth ache but I was sick of coffee and water. Sitting down at the table opposite Tammy, I said, “You want to know what’s going to happen next. I wish I had a simple, clear-cut answer but the truth is I don’t.”

“Mama always said if anything happened to her you would take care of us.” Tammy pressed her lips together, widening her eyes and blinking rapidly. After a moment, she let out a long, shuddering breath. “I guess that means we’re moving.”

“Well, yeah.” I glanced around the kitchen, not quite able to hold back a grimace. “I mean, I know Loretta did her best but I’m sorry, if I’m moving back to this place I’m not living in a single wide trailer with no air conditioner a good thirty minutes from town.”

“So we’re staying here? In Cotton Creek?”

“I would swear I said that earlier and I know I said it just now.” I took another sip of tea, sighing at the cool, refreshing taste. I hadn’t missed a lot of things about Cotton Creek—probably less than a dozen, truth be told—but I’d missed Betsey Underwood’s sweet tea. “I know what Loretta wanted. Providing there isn’t an issue with the judge or whoever, I’ll do what she wants.”

I knew I didn’t have to worry about any of the fathers—Loretta had gone to court and had their parental rights terminated once they skipped town. I’d had a lawyer look over all the papers for guardianship when Loretta had sent them to me and he’d promised me everything was on the up and up. There was still a chance the judge would decide to send the kids to foster care but it was a slim chance. People didn’t like to break up families in Cotton Creek.

“But you said we’re moving.”

“Hmm?” I stared at Tammy for a moment, trying to remember what we were talking about before I let my mind wander. “Right. We are moving. I’m looking at the subdivision on the north side of town. If not there, then maybe somewhere near the school.”

I had an appointment with a realtor—or rather the single realtor in town—in the morning. I’d had Allison take care of all the paperwork to get approval for a home loan and I could use about half of the money left in my savings for a down payment. I’d been tucking money away with the idea of purchasing a loft in Savannah for when I got tired of traveling so I wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of home ownership.

Just the town in question.

“The houses in the subdivision have really small yards.” Tammy dragged her teeth over her lower lip, worrying away at the lipstick I’d let her borrow for the funeral. I’d heard a few whispers about makeup on someone so young but a few hard glares had the talkers shutting their mouths. I wouldn’t cause a scene at Loretta’s funeral but I’d be damned if I let anybody talk trash about her or her kids, either, regardless of the time and place. “Mama always said we’d have a yard one day.”

“So we’ll look at the neighborhoods close to the school.” The houses there were older but they were also bigger, with good sized yards and plenty of privacy. “Hopefully we can find something with five bedrooms but I’ll settle for four.”

“Five?” Tammy’s eyes went wide. “Why so many?”

“One for each of you and then an office for me.” When she continued to goggle at me, I said, “You guys do want your own rooms, right?”

“I guess.” Some more chewing of her lower lip before she blurted out, “I’ve always had to share with someone.”

“Yeah, me, too, until I left Cotton Creek.” I drained the last of the tea and sighed. “So I’ll go look at houses tomorrow. I might be able to convince the seller to let us move in while we’re still in escrow, depending on who the seller is.”

And on what kind of information I had on them. One of the few upsides to being poor was people didn’t pay too much attention to what they said around you. When I was a teenager, I’d known more about the so-called upright citizens of Cotton Creek than either of the two ministers and Loretta had felt the need to keep me up to date on the juicier tidbits. I wasn’t above using dirty secrets to get what I wanted.

“Okay.” Tammy stood, pausing for a moment before leaning over and kissing the top of my head. “Thanks for staying.”

“We’re family, honey.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “You do what you have to for family.”