Don't Hex with Texas

There was no sign of Owen at breakfast the next morning. I hoped that meant he was sleeping in. I wrote a quick note and slid it under his door before I headed to the store for work. Sherri was already there, which was an “alert the media” kind of event, and she was surprisingly cheerful. “Wow, you’re here!” I said, then immediately realized that probably didn’t sound so nice.



“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked as she straightened the display of small impulse items around the cash register. “I do work here, don’t I?”



“Well, yeah, I mean, uh, well, with everything you’ve been through, I thought you could have used a break.” I thought that was a pretty good recovery from putting my foot in my mouth.



She rolled her eyes. “If my husband is going to be a good-for-nothing, I’d better be sure one of us pulls in an honest paycheck.”



“I’m glad you’re here. We’d be in a tough spot without you. And, um, it would be safe for you to go home now. We saw to that.”



“I said I’d be gone a few days, and I will be. I’ll go home when I said I would.”



“Okay, then,” I said as I headed to my own office with the beginnings of a grudging respect for Sherri. I never would have thought she had it in her. She might even be able to keep Dean in line in the future.



Owen called me about an hour after I got to the store. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” he said with an audible yawn.



“You needed it. How are you feeling now?”



“Almost back to normal.”



“I should be able to get away from here in a couple of hours, so you take it easy until then. I hope Mom’s not fussing over you too much.”



“She is, but I don’t mind. She made an incredible breakfast. She said I looked like I could use a good meal. I guess she forgot all those huge meals she’s made in the past few days.”



“She definitely shows her love by feeding people, so get used to being stuffed while you’re around here. I’ll see you soon.”



About an hour after I talked to him, Nita called. “You are not going to believe the morning I’ve had,”



she said. Given her fondness for drama, it was entirely possible that she meant the phone had rung once, so I avoided jumping to conclusions, no matter how worried I was about what one of her guests might do.



“What is it?” I asked.



“I’ve been busy. Three people have checked in so far this morning, and I’ve made a couple more reservations. If this pace continues the rest of the day, I may have to see if the ‘no vacancy’ sign still works. We haven’t had this many people check in on the same day since that big family reunion a couple of years ago.”



“I wonder what’s going on,” I said, instantly even more suspicious.



“I think it may be the rest of the band! And maybe some fans. They all look kind of like the same types. It’s a sort of emo group, right?”



I wasn’t sure I even knew what “emo” was. “They’re hard to classify,” I hedged. “Keep me posted, here or at the house. I’m curious. Are any of the guys cute?”



She snorted with laughter. “Not even! I wouldn’t go this low, even as desperate as I am, and even if they are in a band. Of course, none of them are Indian. Maybe they’re here to work on an album in the peace and quiet. That’ll really make the motel famous if the album is big. Oh wait, would you believe, here comes another one. Gotta go. I think I should get a bonus.”



I was sure there were dozens of highly rational reasons why unattractive young men would suddenly flock to this town, but with Phelan Idris, patron saint of unattractive social outcasts, in residence, I was inclined to think there was something going on.



“I’m leaving for the day,” I announced to Sherri as I grabbed my purse and headed out of the office.



“I’ve got all the orders and invoices taken care of. Call me at the house if you need anything.”



“Is something wrong?” she asked.



I was so surprised that she’d picked up on a subtle social clue from someone she wasn’t flirting with that it took me a few seconds to come up with an answer. “Owen wasn’t feeling well last night, so I don’t want to leave him alone with Mom too long.”



“Oh, yes, you should definitely go home, then.” She sounded really and truly sympathetic, which a few days ago I would have considered nothing short of a miracle.



Owen was sitting on the front porch swing, two dogs at his feet, when I got home. “You look a lot better,” I told him as I joined him on the swing.