I wanted to be with her, spend time in her company for the sake of her company—a sentiment that was both novel and entirely unwelcome.
Jessica’s eyes narrowed on me. “Since when?”
“Our grandfathers were friendly. So, I suppose she’s been a family friend since Don Donner and Grandfather Oliver first met.”
Jess huffed impatiently and smacked my knee. “You’re being evasive, Cletus. And when you’re being evasive, it means you don’t want to talk about something. And when you don’t want to talk about something, it usually means that something is really interesting.”
I nodded somberly. “What a fascinating theory.”
Jessica eyeballed me for a stretch and I met her meddlesome glare with an easy one of my own.
But then Duane—the turncoat—said, “I think Cletus is helping Jennifer.”
“Duane.” I suffused my tone with warning and shook my head.
He refused to meet my eye in the mirror, instead subtlely smirking and adding, “Billy took her out a few weeks ago, a practice date or something. She’s never had a boyfriend, I don’t think. You’ve seen how her parents have her locked up like Rapunzel. My guess is Cletus is helping her figure shit out, so she can break out from under her parents’ crazy.”
I gaped at the back of my brother’s head. “Well hello, Garrison Gossip.”
He shrugged. “We’ll be in Italy next month, Cletus. Who are we going to tell? Besides, maybe Jess can help.”
“I want to help!” Jessica bounced in her seat, giving me a giant, pleading smile. “Oh please, let me help. I’ve always thought she was so cute and sweet. It’s a shame her momma dresses her like a banana. But she’s, what? Twenty-three now?”
“Twenty-two,” I corrected.
“Twenty-two is too long to live under the thumb of her parents. It’s about time she broke free. I could teach her so much. Please, Cletus? Please?” Jessica folded her fingers under her chin and flapped her eyelashes at me.
I frowned at Jessica and her unexpected offer. I didn’t like unexpected offers as a rule, but Jessica was good people. And she definitely had a backbone.
“I’m not saying yes,” I held up a cautionary finger between us, “but, if I did, what would you teach her first?”
Jessica’s eyes moved up and to the right, as though she was retrieving information stored in some secret woman-center of her brain.
Meanwhile, I was thinking on my hike with Jennifer down to the Yuchi stream. Telling her about my half-brother hadn’t been planned. It just . . . happened. Her father’s affair, his disregard for his marriage vows, reminded me of my own adulterous father.
The two men were a pair of assholes.
“Don’t freak out,” Jessica ordered, finally bringing her gaze back to mine.
“Why would I freak out?”
“Because, honestly, the first thing I would do is get that woman a vibrator.”
The car descended into a stunned silence. At least, I was stunned and I was pretty sure Duane was stunned. But then Duane barked a laugh. Jessica didn’t laugh. She smiled hopefully. I didn’t laugh. I was plagued with sudden and vivid images of Jennifer pleasuring herself.
This suggestion was almost as bad as Claire’s heartfelt appeal earlier in the evening—that Jennifer should seek love rather than experience—as well as the visuals that conversation conjured.
Dammit.
“Just hear me out.” Jess waved her hands between us, as though telling me to simmer down. “When I was a teenager and didn’t know what the hell I wanted, looking back I wish someone had given me a vibrator.”
“I would have given you more than that,” Duane mumbled.
“Oh good Lord,” I said on a breath, rolling my eyes.
Jess slid her attention to Duane, her grin growing sly, then brought it back to me. “I’m serious. Girls don’t know what’s up. My momma never talked to me about it, so I guarantee Diane Sylvester hasn’t said a word to Jennifer either. That girl was homeschooled, so she likely knows even less. And, her daddy checks the search history on her phone and laptop all the time. He used to brag about it to us teachers. I’m convinced that man is a sociopath. The Sylvesters make my parents look progressive.”
I didn’t find this news surprising. The main difference between my father and Kip Sylvester was that Darrell never pretended to be a pious saint. Jenn’s father, however, spread his holier-than-thou manure all over the place. My momma once told me—with the fire and ire—that Kip often misquoted the Bible to keep his kids under control.
Jennifer and Isaac had deserved better than growing up with their father’s judgmental hypocrisy. And their momma deserved better than the man’s betrayal.
“Your parents are very nice.” I leaned forward in my seat. “I’ve always found the sheriff to be reasonable.”
“He likes you, Cletus.” Duane glanced at me then back to the road. “Jess’s daddy thinks the world of you.”