Chapter 4
ONE of them, Blaine (or as I’d now refer to him, the pudgy balding one), hadn’t changed his ways. The whole time he talked, he kept cutting his eyes my way. Oh, the memories.
Hank bid his good-byes, promising great adventure for the next day, while Jiminy leaned on a shelf. He was a watcher, I noticed. Blaine finally made his way to “talk” to Marg and pay for the mud minnows I would be lucky enough to collect.
He leaned forward on the counter. “How’s it going, Marg?”
“Just peachy, and you?”
“Can’t complain.” He looked my way as I tried desperately to not notice. “Sure got some good scenery in here today.”
Okay, seriously? It was everything I could do not to hit the floor in hysteria. Even Marg’s expression reflected something similar, and she coughed behind her hand. I laughed lightly and held a hand out for the bucket. He took it instead and squeezed.
“Blaine Wilson.”
I smiled through the repulsion. “Dani Shane.”
His slimy smile twitched a little as the name floated around the memory bank.
“Dani Shane—didn’t you—” fumbled the other guy, otherwise known as Ricky. Or maybe it was Rick now, or Richard, or hell it could be Dick for all I knew. He left the question unfinished and pointed.
“Yes, I did.”
Blaine let my hand go and stood back upright. He maintained his smile but I guess he didn’t want to be infected by the suddenly tainted scenery. Ricky-Rick-Dick was a little less rotund and a little more couth.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were back in town. How’ve you been?”
“Great.” I looked down, not interested in catching up. “Just the one bucket?”
Blaine came to his senses and cleared his throat. “Just the one.”
“Five dozen,” Marg threw over her shoulder. “Fill the bucket half full and there’s a net on the wall.”
I grabbed the bucket and headed back, with Jiminy on my heels. I looked back at him as I was enveloped by stench.
“Come to see if I can manhandle some fish?”
He shook his head. “Nah, saw you do that when you were seven. I figure you have it under control.”
I stopped in mid-grab for the green mesh net dangling from a rusty nail.
“What?”
Jiminy grinned at me and then took the bucket from my hand and proceeded to fill it with water from the tap off the minnow vat.
“Your dad and I are old friends. Used to go fishing now and then, sit around and make our own lures. You were always around.”
“Really?” I racked my brain. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”
“Remember throwing the casting net for minnows off the old point?”
I smiled. “Wow, that’s going back.”
He chuckled. “I taught you how.”
I was mortified not to remember him. How embarrassing. “Oh my lord, I’m so sorry I can’t remember that.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said and waved it off. “Hell, I don’t remember anything before age sixteen myself. And that’s just because I got my license and the good life began.”
I laughed. “My daughter’s sixteen.”
“She driving?”
“Technically, but I had to trade down and my current car embarrasses her, and then we moved here so she has nowhere to go.”
I wielded the net and scooped up some of the panicky minnows, letting them slither through my fingers one at a time as I counted them into the bucket. If Dallas could see me now.
“So, what’s that story out there?” Jiminy asked, thumbing behind him. I scooped up some more, wondering what he knew.
“Just people I went to school with.”
“Friends?”
“Hardly.”
He chuckled. “Got that impression. They’re both assholes, but they got what they deserved.” When I looked up, he continued. “Their wives are both uptight and bitchy and put them so far in debt they can’t find their ass with both hands.”
I giggled at that and nearly dropped a wiggly one.
“Oops, crap, I lost count.”
He peeked in. “Throw in half a dozen more and it’s good.”
I looked up. “You counted?”
“No, but do you really think they’re going to? They’ll be drunk in an hour, anyway.”
I shook my head and laughed. “You’re bad, Jiminy.”
WE headed out on the water, and I closed my eyes and gripped the edges of my seat, focusing on breathing. It wasn’t the time for anxiety to win. The smell—the spray on my face—the electricity on the water—was everything I loved about the river. Everything a storm would bring to me, like a teaser. It was exhilarating except for the bouncing movement across the waves that told me we were getting farther and farther from land. I opened my eyes and willed my morning coffee to stay put. We were out in the middle. I zeroed in on a bushy island to the left and counted the waves till we slowed up next to it.
“You okay?” Jiminy asked.
“I’m good.” I tried a small grin.
He touched my arm. “Dani, you’re clammy and shaking. That’s far from good. What’s the matter?”
I laughed, and it sounded weak to my ears, as the familiar buzzing rush that the river always brought me sang louder than my voice.
“Nothing, I’m just—” I shrugged and tried to shake it off. “I just get nervous out on the water.”
Jiminy chuckled. “You grew up on the water.”
“Over there.” I pointed at the shore.
“You went fishing.”
I pointed again. “From over there.”
He sat back and studied me for a second. “Hmm. Never realized that.”
I shook my head, just wanting to get on with it. “Okay, teach me something.”
Jiminy gave me a fish chart, a bait chart he’d made of what was biting on what, and a hat that said “Captain J” on the front.
“Wow, you’re really organized.” I flipped through the laminated pages. “You update these every time it changes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
He adjusted his hat. “People pay a lot of money.”
We hit every possible cut and cove and sandbar on the north end of the pass. Jiminy didn’t say anything else, but he drove slower and closer to shore. I loved him for that.
We saw Bessie Heights, Stutes Island, Coffee Ground Cove, among others. I knew them all, since they were on our end and accessible by land—sort of. Some of them were swampy. Saw a cute little houseboat docked right around the cove from my dad’s house. Then what was left of Coffee Ground Cove, which was my hiding place when I was a kid. It had an old abandoned dock and low-hanging trees, and I could disappear in there and pretend the world was beautiful.
He told me what fish were where and why. Where the ridges were and where the breeding happened, and why the tides were important. He made me cast a couple of times, I guess to prove I could, and actually looked impressed that I remembered the big alligator that once resided in the second cut of Bessie Heights.
“I named him Herman Munster when I was little.”
He chuckled and then looked back at me again. “Sounds like something your mother would say.”
I almost fell out of the boat. “What?”
He nodded, still looking amused. “You’re Nadine, made over. Look and talk just like her.”
My fingers went numb. “You knew my mother?”
“Went to school together.”
“So did my dad.”
“Yep.”
I was amazed. “What was she like?”
Jiminy flipped over a laminated map and studied it, then grinned up at me. “I’m sure your dad’s told you all that, girl.”
I shook my head. “I mean from someone else’s point of view. What do you remember about her?”
His face got a faraway happy look as he looked away. “Her laugh. It was infectious.”
There was a moment when the only sound was the water lapping the sides of the boat and a nearby frog doing a throaty warble. Then he came back to the present.
He gestured toward the steering wheel. “Can you drive?”
I raised my eyebrows and coughed. “On land.”
He chuckled. “Want to give it a shot?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Come on.” He got up and pointed for me to take the captain’s chair. “Face your fear. It’s easier than a car. No lanes.”
Shit, shit, shit…“Is it really necess—”
“Call it an adventure. Come on.”
I made it without sinking us or running up on a sandbar, but I wouldn’t go look to do it again on purpose, either. Ever.
Back at the shop at nearly closing, I was met at the door by Bob the bait guy. Marg told me that Bob was unique, and that was an understatement. Bob grinned up at me from all of five foot two, with a large gap between his front teeth and tattoos all over his body. But that was nothing. Bob was a one-legged, very hairy, weather-worn man in blue jean shorts, a metal fake leg, and sneakers. Oh, and he had a hump on his back. I kid you not.
“Nice to meet ya,” he said in the gravelly voice of a lifelong smoker, shaking my hand like a man. I couldn’t help but like him.
He loaded up the bait vats, saluted me with a smile, and headed to his trailer, squeaky pole leg and all.
I closed up shop according to Marg’s notes and thought she was awfully brave to leave that to me on the first day. Guess I made a good first impression. Well, to be fair, she’d already taken all but one hundred dollars to the bank, so it wasn’t like I was left with Fort Knox.
I knew where I was going when I left, and it was the opposite direction from home. Within minutes, I wound through the neatly graveled figure eights, eventually landing at the end of a small rise. I got out and walked back two rows to the pinkish gray granite stone that sported my mother’s name and date of death. April 16, 1970. The day I was born.
My dad never let it be that way. Never once was my birthday anything other than my birthday. I only knew that my mother lived in the cemetery instead of at the house with us, and we kept flowers there for her and frequently went through the scrapbook she made when she was pregnant. I was six when I really noticed the date, and my dad explained it casually as being insignificant because she was just happy she got to see and hold me there at home where I was born, before God took her to heaven.
I never wondered if I killed her.
I did wonder why she never came around to tell me that herself. A million other people felt the need to tell me their postmortem thoughts.
“But not you, huh, Mom?” Nope. Never her. I took a deep breath. “We need you—me and Riley.”
It felt awkward to say that, having never known her or had any kind of relationship with her. I always visited, always talked to her about what I was doing as if she couldn’t possibly know otherwise. But I never asked for anything. Not even advice. Not even back then when I really needed a mom. I didn’t know how to have one.
“I’m back in this messed-up place again, and—” I blew out a frustrated breath. “You didn’t—or couldn’t—keep them off me, but I’m begging you. If you have any pull whatsoever. Please keep them off Riley.” My voice choked. “She doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t ask for this.”
My eyes burned with tears, and the back of my neck prickled. Not like with Alex, which always felt like electric current, but just enough to make me react. I turned to see a redheaded older lady approach. She wore a lemon yellow pantsuit and carried a large orange purse that matched her orange shoes. How unfortunate to spend eternity in such an awful wardrobe choice. But, hey, when she put it all on, she probably didn’t realize there wouldn’t be a do-over.
I swiped at my eyes and smiled, looking back at the stone where the silk daisies appeared to morph from the top. That hadn’t changed. For forty years, my dad kept her favorite flowers on her grave. He never let them fade. He changed them out before they could.
“Nadine Danielle Shane,” the lady read as she stood next to me. She jutted her head that way as she turned to speak to me. “That your momma, there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded and squinted at the date. “Gone a long time. You aren’t old enough to have had too much of her.”
“None.”
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Shame. Damn shame. Your daddy raise you?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s all I had.”
Her head swiveled and she faced me with a snort. “Seems to me you obviously have more than most.”
A smile tugged at my lips on that one. “You have a point, there.”
“Damn right I do.”
“So, where are you from?” I asked.
“Arkansas,” she said proudly.
“Couple months, I guess. Keep ending up in different places. My family’s all spread out, so I guess I have to go get closure with all their deadbeat asses before I can relax.”
I laughed. “Good luck with that.”
She grinned then and brandished her ugly orange purse. “Thanks for the company. Even for just a minute. It gets lonely where I am.”
I focused back on my mother’s headstone. “I understand that all too well.”
AT a little after midnight, I was tired of being wide awake horizontal so I tiptoed downstairs. Got a glass of milk and a leftover roll from supper and headed out to the porch. Bojangles lifted his head in interest of the dinner roll, wiggled his nose a bit, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Meat might have been a different story.
I settled onto the porch swing with a blanket I hadn’t brought for warmth—there was plenty of that. I needed the comfort in whatever way I could find. In the night sounds of the breeze turning the metal propellers of the weather-vane plane and the crickets and locusts and whatever else was out there partying in the thick air. Probably big tree roaches, too, but I chose denial on that one and it was too dark to prove otherwise.
My dad was so happy about my job. I didn’t have the heart to tell him how much I dreaded dragging my ass down there again to field crap from old “friends” that probably wagged tongues all over town. Tomorrow would bring a whole new shift of the newly informed pretending to be surprised.
I knew I felt sorry for myself and part of me despised that but the other part was PMSing and didn’t care.
“What the hell am I doing?” I whispered to the night.
“Whatever you have to,” it whispered back as the skin on my neck burned.
I jumped and jerked to my left to see Alex lean against the rail. I licked my lips.
“Guess I have to get used to that again.”
“I have faith in you.”
He crossed the porch and joined me on the swing, careful not to touch me. People touch ghosts all the time and don’t realize it. Feelings of déjà vu, confusion, random illogical thoughts, losing your way midsentence. Longer contact is more intense, for both. You feel everything they feel and vice versa. All I know is Alex always made it a point to avoid it, so I assumed it wasn’t a good thing for them.
“So, what brings you out here where there might be cockroaches?”
I shivered. “Was trying to block that, thank you.”
“Just saying.”
I sighed. “Can’t sleep. Too excited about work tomorrow—today—whatever.”
“Your dedication is inspiring.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m all that.”
He was quiet for a moment, probably to let my self-pity firmly root itself.
“It’s just temporary, Dani.”
“Really?”
He sighed impatiently and looked away.
“No, seriously, Alex. Really? Because my dad sings that same song. Do y’all see a lot of upper-level jobs around here? Maybe one day I can be police chief?”
He sat quiet again, and I felt the flood come.
“Shit.” My voice quivered and I hated it. But he’d been there before.
“I got away from this place and the claws it has that drag you down and rip you up. I made sure I’d never be at its mercy again.” The tears overflowed. “Never.”
“I know,” he repeated.
“I know you do. You’re the only one that does.” I gulped air. “Now I’m back, forced to kiss ass to stupid, closed-minded people that I wouldn’t wipe my shoes on a year ago.”
He looked at me in the dark, and I felt the intensity of his eyes more than saw them. They glistened.
“They aren’t all that way, Dani. Don’t brand them all.”
I shook my head. “No, I know. I just—” I blew out a breath to try to calm down. “I just can’t stand the thought of Riley taking the crap for this. They’re gonna fuck with her, Alex, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“You’ll be a mom. That’s all you can do.”
“Yeah, I’ve been such a stellar example of that so far.”
“You have. Look at her. She’s a strong, smart-ass young woman that doesn’t take any crap.”
A laugh broke through my snotty hiccups. “Yeah.”
“So keep doing what you’re doing.” He leaned slightly toward me. “Start with telling her so she has something to arm herself with.”
I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”
“Seriously.”
I nodded and mopped at my face. “I know.”
“You’re going to tell her?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
I sniffed. “At some point.”
“Wuss.”
I chuckled a little in spite of myself. Only Alex had that power. “I went out in a boat today.”
There was a pause. “Really?” His voice sounded odd. He knew my crazy fear, he’d seen my reaction before.
“Drove it, even.”
“How was it?”
“I didn’t throw up.”
He laughed and I pushed the swing softly as the thoughts zipped through my head ninety miles an hour. I closed my eyes and tried to let the quiet noise settle the buzz. After a moment, I peered sideways out one eye to find his steady gaze on me.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft.
“Hey. Just checking if you were still here. Never know with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I stepped up the appearance meter a little the next day. Just for my own vanity. I couldn’t bear any more “friends” witnessing my downfall without at least good hair and makeup to buffer it.
It would be okay. It would be a good day. I had the right outlook, I was thinking positive. No more whining and bitching and moaning. I was done with that.
Even at ten till six in the morning, it was already muggy, so I rolled down my car windows. Not that that really helped anything, just gave some circulation. I drove past the two other streets that led down to the river, both of which held a couple of houses. I always liked that the river area didn’t get too populated. I liked the remoteness. There were only a few cars in front of me this early, probably leaving for Restin. I remember being psycho enough to leave that early for work once upon a time. That was another lifetime ago.
We crept up to the stop sign, one at a time. My phone buzzed on the console next to me, buzzing itself onto the passenger floorboard.
“Crap.”
I leaned over and groped around with one hand, my fingers blindly flailing through old receipts, a pen, and evidently an old pair of sunglasses I’d lost. I looked down for a second. Just long enough for—bam.
Not a big bam. More of a crunch that involved stopping without the use of my brakes. Enough to make me suck air so hard I almost choked as I jolted forward. I sat there in disbelief at the view of my rattletrap kissing the bumper of the white BMW in front of me.
“Son of a bitch.”
The guy that got out of the car with aviator sunglasses had a set to his jaw that clearly mirrored my response and probably a few more.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mumbled as I got out and attempted a smile I didn’t feel. “Hi.”
He stared at his bumper and caressed its new wound, which I noticed was very minor, thank God. Unfortunately, my black car made the union not so pretty, minor or not.
“Hi? That’s what you get out and say?”
I backed up a step, taken aback. “Yeah, that’s what I usually start with. You didn’t let me get to—”
“Do you even have insurance?”
Okay, officially insulted. “Yes, of course I do.” I took a breath to slow the adrenaline. “Look, I’m really sorry. I got distracted.” I checked out the damage again, caressing my dirty bumper so I could show I cared, too. “It doesn’t look bad. We’ll get it fixed.”
“Not bad for you.” He pointed at my car with a lip curl. I swear, I didn’t imagine that. “This car is two months old.”
I imagined it being born, slapped on the ass. “I understand. I’ll take care of it. I’ll call my insurance company—”
“Well, give me your information,” he said, pulling his wallet out. I noticed his hands were rough. The wallet was worn. Not like someone you’d expect to drive a white cushy car. “I have to go into Restin this morning, I’ll get an estimate.”
I went back for my bag as two other cars crept by. Really? That interesting? I prayed that I had the most updated card.
“Please, God, don’t let me be a dumbass,” I whispered. God answered me with favorable results and I breathed a sigh of relief as I handed it to him. “Okay, here you go.”
He took off the sunglasses and peered at it, then me. I proceeded to write his info on the back of an old receipt I’d pulled from the floorboard with my phone. He pulled out his cell phone, took a picture of my card, and handed it back to me.
Well. Okay then.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said and strode back to his chariot and pulled away.
“Great,” I muttered, looking down at my scribbles. “Fucking great.”
I went to work, stocked lures, fielded phone calls, posted tide information, told some guy that speckled trout were biting on Rat-L-Traps and buzz tail grubs, and hoped no one was around to hear and know that I pulled that out of my ass.
On my non-lunch break as I munched a bag of Cheetos, I called the insurance company to tell them I was an idiot and that a Jason Miller would contact them. He already had. Of course.
I went out on Captain Hank’s boat. I’d never seen the south end of the river, so it truly was a tour. I didn’t get a hat or a list or anything laminated. What I got was a play-by-play of everything Hank had ever caught, tried to catch, or wanted to catch, with eighty-five “sugars” in there to sweeten the pot. On the bright side, the water was calm and flat and Hank was all about trolling the sides, so I did okay.
By the time we got back, I was grateful to check the bait vats and sweep the floors. I went in the back way and checked the critters first and came up through the hall. I rounded the corner through the beads, smack into a hard body in jeans, T-shirt—and aviator sunglasses.
“Oh!”
“Jesus,” he muttered as I stepped on his foot.
“What the—are you following me?” I exclaimed as he took off the glasses. “I told you I’d take care of it.” It unnerved me that he was behind the counter with me.
Hard green eyes glared at me. “I just got here. What the hell are you doing here, and coming up the back way?”
“I work here, asshole.” I walked toward him, hoping to be intimidating. “You want to get on the other side of the counter, please?”
But he stopped, very still. “You what?”
Just then, Bob wobbled in with his heavy side-to-side gait, grinning. “Hey, Dani. Hey, Mr. Miller.”
“Bob.” His face visibly softened to nod a sideways grin at him, and in that tiny instant when he wasn’t scowling, he struck me as good-looking.
“Got everything set for the night, Boss. I’m gonna head over.”
I felt my eyebrows raise. “Boss?”
He turned back to me, and the troll was back. He held a hand out, his face set in stone, his eyes not blinking. It was like looking at a cyborg.
“Jason Miller. Owner. Manager. Asshole. I believe we’ve met.”
Oh, just beat me with a fucking stick.
“Dani Shane.” I shook his hand. “Am I still employed?”
He let my hand go and turned to run a report on the register. “So far. If you work better than you drive.”
I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. Tried not to be swayed by the thoughts that descended upon me, saying, You don’t need this. You are above this. You don’t have to take shit from this petty peon.
Because I did. I wasn’t anymore. And I had to. End of story. Move on, Dani, suck it up.
“Okay,” was what I managed to say instead, and I grabbed the broom so I could take my frustrations out on the floor. We did our things in silence till I left. Then I said good-bye, as I swung the door open.
“See you tomorrow,” he responded without looking up.
I let the door close behind me and thought about jumping in the river.
LESS extreme measures called for junk food. Tapioca pudding. Chicken and dumplings. Cheese. Ice cream. Not necessarily in that order, but I needed to go to the store. There’d be a bigger store or even Walmart in Restin, but I was not in the mood for a twenty-minute drive up the highway with no air. The Market would have to do.
The bell hanging at the top of the door jingled as I went in, making me wonder if those things were required door attire. What stopped me short was the sight of Riley behind the counter.
“Um, hey.”
Riley lifted a hand lazily. “Hey.”
“Get bored at home?” Home. That just fell out of my mouth, and sounded so strange.
“Epically.” She looked around her. “Walked down here for some chips and ended up with a job.”
“You—really?”
At that moment a boy and girl appeared from around a corner. She swiped quickly at her mouth as he fidgeted with his clothing and walked as if there were crawlies in his floppy jeans. The girl was blonde and pretty and probably perfectly figured, but it was hard to tell with the man’s overalls she had on.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asked, her voice soft and drawly.
I smiled. Or grimaced, maybe. “I’m good.”
“Why not?” Riley was answering. “Get some spending money. Not that there’s much to spend it on around here,” she added, nudging blonde girl so that she laughed as she took a seat next to Riley.
I stared at the girl, somewhat stunned into silence, then forced my attention back to Riley. “Okay.”
That’s all I could come up with. I stood rooted to the spot, not quite sure what to make of it. Not sure if it was a good thing. Money wasn’t a bad idea, but with Riley’s new bag of tricks, I wasn’t sure if being so in public was a good idea. Of course, not being such a chickenshit and telling her about it would have been a grand idea.
“I work noon to six every day but Sundays, so I’m almost off now.” She consulted her little black-and-white-checked watch. “Carmen’s been training me.”
Oh good. Blonde girl had a name and trained my Riley in what? Smiling? Fashion tips? How to blow the stock boy?
“Okay,” I repeated.
“So are you buying something, Mom?”
I felt the familiar prickle, and looked around. Nothing. No one.
“I—yeah. Chicken and dumplings tonight.”
“Cans are over there.” Carmen pointed to her right.
“Did I say in a can?”
Riley laughed. “Come on, Mom, really. Cans are over there.”
Ugh. I sucked. I rotted. I was the mother from hell. I snatched up a basket.
The store hadn’t changed much over the years. Low aisles you could almost see over. Odd organization of items, which when I was growing up, I didn’t realize was odd. I was amazed in my twenties to find out that chain grocery stores didn’t stock toilet paper next to the dairy items.
I grabbed chips, doughnuts, chocolate, ice cream, pudding, and every other kind of crap I could find. And finally the damn chicken and dumpling cans. And brought them up front just in time. To come eyeball to eyeball with the surprised snarky sideways smirk of Shelby Pruitt.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she drawled. “Dani Lou Shane. I heard you were back.”
I had a quick thought that the day couldn’t get any worse, and I immediately shoved it away for fear that it might. Nice thoughts. Nice thoughts. I smiled, painfully aware of Riley’s gaze narrowing. She was too old, sometimes.
“Hey, Shelby. How are you?”
“Great. Married almost twenty years to Matty Sims. You remember Matty, right?”
Here we go again. I got a memory recall of Matty Sims and me in the nurse’s office. He was on the cot, and when she walked out, he pulled his dick out and wagged it at me. Wasn’t much to wag.
“Kinda.”
She chuckled the amused noise of someone who knows you’re lying. She was smarter than Lisa Lowe-whoever-she-was-now. Bitchier, too.
“So, what made you want to crawl back to Bethany?” she asked in her saccharin-sweet way. “Weren’t you some big shot somewhere?”
I scratched the back of my neck, that tingle still present, but there was no Alex or anyone else around.
“Yeah, well, I’m relocated now.”
“Relocated? At the Bait-n-Feed?” Then she giggled. I held on tight to my basket.
“Well, nice to see you again, Shelby,” I said as I moved forward. She looked down.
“Wow, a junk-food fest? I’m coming to your house.” Another giggle and an arm touch to show sister solidarity. Ya-ya. “Oh, that’d be your dad’s house, I mean.”
“That’s for me,” Riley chimed in, eyes ablaze.
I closed mine and prayed for that to go unnoticed. I loved her for catching on to the cattiness, but it wouldn’t go well. Shelby’s head swiveled to Riley and back to me. Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Oh wow, this is your daughter?”
“This is Riley.”
Shelby smiled at her then at me as if we were admiring a teapot. “She’s beautiful, Dani.”
I threw a glare at Riley, so she choked out, “Thank you. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, you, too.” She looked at the counter with disdain and then lowered her voice. “Do you work here?”
When Riley just smiled and nodded, she added, “How sweet. How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“So’s my daughter, Micah.”
Of course she was. Evidently, we all popped them out the same damn year. I saw Carmen nudge Riley.
“She’s on the varsity cheer squad. We’re so excited.”
“I’ll bet.”
She turned back to me. “And did I mention that Matty is the coach?”
Shook my head. Nope. But we got it now. I tried again to move on and put my basket on the counter.
“So who’s the lucky guy?” Shelby asked, leaning over to check out my hand. “Oh,” she said then, lowering her voice. “This was a divorce move?”
I pasted a smile on. I knew damn good and well that she knew damn good and well that I wasn’t married. I may not have made the rounds every year, but if she knew I was a big shot somewhere, then she knew the rest.
“Good to see you again, Shelby,” I said as I pulled items onto the counter.
There was a snarky little sound, and then, “Yeah, welcome back.”
I looked Riley square in the face when I answered, “Uh-huh.”
“What a bitch,” Riley whispered when Shelby had moved out of earshot.
I stopped, mid-grab to my wallet. “Watch your mouth.”
“Micah’s just like her, too,” Carmen said. She cast her eyes down as I met her gaze, as if she didn’t mean to spew forth sound.
Riley took her time ringing me up, a snarky grin on her face as she handed me my change.
“Wow,” I said, holding up the bills. “There’s something new, you giving money back.”
The bell jingled again, and in walked Miss Olivia, sporting a white pantsuit with her straw hat.
“How goes it, Dani girl?” she asked as she rested her giant purse on the counter.
Riley sat back in her chair and looked amused. I took a breath and then just laughed. I had to.
“That good, huh?” she continued. “The job?”
“It’s okay.” I patted her arm. “It’s all okay.”
She did a double take when she saw the girls. “My God, you weren’t kiddin’. This girl looks twenty-one or more.”
Of course Riley beamed on that. “Hey, Miss O.”
“And how old would you be now?”
“I would be twenty-one or more.”
Miss Olivia guffawed at that, throwing her head back. “Oh yeah, girl, you are your momma’s offspring.”
We all laughed except Carmen, who sat there looking sweet and confused. Probably bummed that Riley wouldn’t be going to school with her now that she was suddenly an adult.
“Well, my nephew’ll be here in a few days, and he’s only seventeen, so try to go easy on him, all right?”
“You have a nephew my age?”
Miss Olivia opened one of her bags and tossed a few seeds in her mouth. “He’s my niece’s son. Just sounds less ‘old woman’ than great-nephew, don’t you think?” She threw the bags on the counter and dug for money as Riley rung her up and Carmen continued to smile pretty. “You two need to come over for supper when Grady gets here. I’ll call you.” And she was gone.
Riley looked at me. “Grady? Really?”
I gave her a look. “It’s after six; are you off?”
She looked at Carmen, who nodded and yawned. “I am, too, but I’ll wait for Mrs. Shumaker to come back and relieve me, go ahead. There’s nobody in here but Micah’s mom, anyway.”
“And the guy in the flip flops.”
Carmen frowned. “Who?”
“Blue shirt and flip-flops, beard, spiky hair.” Riley gestured to the back corner. “He was back there looking at magazines, probably still is.”
She shook her head and shrugged. “Never saw him. Oh well.”
Hello. My alert went up, and as we exited, I knew I was on borrowed time. That clock would become a bomb if I didn’t take some action.
And right on cue, there was my action. Alex strolled up as we approached my car, and my heart jumped so hard I felt the knock.
“Ladies,” he said softly, smiling that way of his that made me sweat. This time the sweat was for a far different reason, as I whirled in place to see if we had an audience.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I breathed. “Alex, what are you doing here? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not today.” He sat on the hood of my car with his shit-eating grin. Cute. He was in a playful mood. Groovy.
“You again?” Riley asked.
I ignored her. “Well, Shelby’s in there, so—” So please take the hint and scram.
“Shelby! Damn, that’s been a while.”
Riley looked from me to Alex and back again. “Please stop talking in code,” she said loudly, then gestured toward him. “And what, do you just really like that outfit?”
He gave her his full mischievous attention, eyes flashing. “Men don’t have outfits, sweetheart, but yes, I do, matter of fact. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
He laughed. “What do you prefer?”
“Something this decade.”
I was in full meltdown, and I faced her so it would look like she was talking to me.
“Riley, keep your voice down. Alex, please don’t do this today. I’m begging you.”
“Do what?” Riley asked.
“None ya,” I hissed.
“None ya?” She backed up a step. “My God, that’s so eighties.”
“I don’t really give a shit what decade it is, Riley. Not everything is your business.”
She held up a hand. “Damn, Mom. Chill.”
I was about over the top, stepping forward to tell her just how chilled I was, when Alex said calmly, “Maybe you should get in the car, Riley.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, bowed up. “Who the hell—”
Shelby walked out at that precise moment and that was it.
“Get in the car,” I said, my voice cracking. “Now.”
She knows that sound. The sound of my sanity scratching down a chalkboard. She huffed and sulked and slammed the door.
“Looks like you got your hands full with that one,” Shelby said as she sauntered to her car.
Adrenaline shook me head to toe, and I turned and got in the car without another word.
“Mom,” Riley said when I started it up. “Is he not gonna move?”
“He’ll move.” And as my car went in motion, he smoothly stepped away and walked down the street.
She scoffed as she turned to watch him. “What is his problem?” she asked. “What is yours, for that matter?”
“Just too much, okay?” I said as I ran my fingers through suddenly sweaty hair. “Too much of this day. I’ve had enough.”
“What’s with this guy, Alex?”
“Nothing.”
She blew out a breath. “Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Okay, jump the shark. Rip the Band-Aid off. “Do you ever notice—people that others don’t seem to?”
“What?”
“Like the guy in the store? Flip-flop guy?”
She blinked a couple of times and stared at me like I was insane. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
She shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. I’m more observant than most people.”
There’s a spin. “More observant.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I—never mind.”
My head throbbed, my stomach was rebelling against the Cheetos, and I didn’t have the stamina.
“Mom, you’re acting like a freak.”
I rubbed at my face. “So be it, Riley. I’ve earned the right.”
We pulled through the drive, and I stopped, got out, and went in. I was done. For starting on such a good note, the day had officially kicked my ass.