chapter Nine
It was midnight before Sugar got home. She’d ridden home with Lucy in the blue Oldsmobile because Jake and Averie had removed themselves from the gathering early. Averie had gotten a bit toasted, and Jake seemed to feel obliged to do the gentlemanly thing and remove her from the premises. At least that was what he’d told Sugar. Sugar had stayed, mainly because she was having a great time, and because Maggie seemed to be enjoying the company of good-looking Lassiter.
“I didn’t feel right leaving Maggie there, even if Lassiter said he was taking her line dancing,” Lucy said.
“Don’t you think Mom can make her own decisions? If she’d felt uncomfortable, she would have come home with us.” The evening would have been kind of unsettling except that seeing Maggie chat like a teen had lifted Sugar’s spirits and kept her from wanting to bean Averie with a dinner roll.
“Mom’s vulnerable,” Lucy said.
“I don’t see the downside of a gorgeous, well-respected man paying attention to her.” Sugar went up the stairs to her room, craving her bed and deep, dreamless sleep.
She did not want Jake haunting her dreams.
“What if Lassiter seduces her?” Lucy asked.
“God bless him if he does,” Sugar replied, and her sister gasped. “When did you turn into the family mother figure?”
“Sugar,” Lucy said, following her, “this town is not what it seems.”
“I don’t care what it is. I don’t care if ghosts come screaming up out of the graves at night, and witches dance on the roofs at moonspell. If Mom finds someone better than the shithead that was our stepfather, do we really think that’s a bad thing, Lucy?”
Lucy stared at her, her eyes huge, as Sugar got on her bed. Lucy flung herself on top of the comforter of the circular bed, patting the rich velvet. “I just don’t think you understand the deep currents here.”
“Maggie can take care of herself. She raised two daughters who went into the military. She’s had plenty to deal with in her life.” Sugar swallowed, thinking about Shithead, who’d left in the middle of the night, courtesy of Sugar and a wooden baseball bat. She felt guilt for that—actually, a hell of a lot of guilt. Maybe Maggie had loved Shithead.
Sugar had run him off. He’d known better than to cross her, his options being few: jail, death by Slugger, or a hasty, permanent exit from the family home. My name is the only sweet thing about me, Sugar thought. “Don’t worry about deep currents. We can swim.”
“I know.” Lucy didn’t look convinced. “So, was it my imagination, or was Kel Underwood hitting on me tonight?”
“He’s married with kids. Probably just a friendly thing.” Sugar yawned. “Tell him you’ll have coffee with his wife if he gets any ideas, and don’t worry about it. Men tend to be sensitive about their wives having coffee with women they hit on.” She stared at her sister. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“God, no.” Lucy sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever really loved a man, Sugar.”
Pecan Creek’s deep currents weren’t anything compared to theirs. “You will one day.”
“Why’d you surrender Jake to Miss Perfect with the size-five feet and the double-D bazooms?” Lucy flipped over on her back, gazing up at the circle of ceiling visible from the round harbor of the velvet hangings.
“I didn’t surrender him,” Sugar said. “There’s nothing between Jake and me, and it’s getting old telling everyone that.”
“I think he took her home.”
An arrow shot into Sugar’s heart. “I don’t care, Lucy.”
“I think you do. A little.” Her sister turned over to look at her. “If it wasn’t for Ramon, you would. You’ve got your heart locked up tighter than a virgin’s legs because of Ramon. But I don’t think Jake’s a cheater. He might be easily led, though, so hard-to-get might not be the best card to play when you’ve got Averie-the-Barbie-doll trying to drag him into her dollhouse. I thought she was going to massage him under the table.”
“I do not care,” Sugar repeated, closing her eyes. “I have too much on my mind to care what Jake Bentley does in his spare time. Or under tables.”
“It’s weird,” Lucy said. “I’m just so sure he digs you. He looked like he was going to explode when Bobby German started sucking up to you. Was Bobby hitting on you?”
“No.” Sugar sighed. “Can we talk about anything but Jake?”
“Well,” Lucy said, “I’ve got two hundred bucks to put in the kitty.”
Sugar’s eyes flew open. “Where’d you get two hundred dollars?”
“I’m doing some work for Charlotte Dawson. Easy breezy gopher stuff.”
“I thought you said she was Miss Osborne the Mop on senility drugs.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said, “I might have misunderstood her clarity on certain things. She’s pretty cool, actually.”
Sugar stared at her sister, who reclined on her bed like the old days, when they’d spent hours lying on their beds telling secrets. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Sugar, this isn’t basic training, you know? Helping Charlotte is not the same as running a course or flying a helicopter. Besides, I’ve got to make a living. No one ever said you had to be the only breadwinner in the house. If we get hotterthanhellnuts.com off the ground, I’ll tell Charlotte I can’t help her anymore. But she pays in cash, so…” Lucy shrugged. “It’s hard to pass up.”
“It will certainly help. Thanks, Lucy.” Sugar felt relief that her sister had figured out an easy way to benefit the family resources. She didn’t want her mother or her sister to know how dire their circumstances might be by Christmas.
“Maggie should be home by now.” Lucy got up, went to the window, peered out. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, Sugar. Maggie won’t carry a cell phone, but we could call Granddaddy Longlegs and tell him Mom needs her sleep. I bet Jake knows his cell number.”
Sugar rose from the bed, recognizing that her sister was truly anxious about their mother. “Remember when you wanted to go down to the meeting and protect Maggie from the walleyed bats?”
“Yeah. And lucky we did. You have to admit she needed us for support that night.”
“This time I think she doesn’t. Come on. Let’s get you a cup of hot milk.”
Lucy padded behind her down the stairs. “Nothing good happens after midnight, Sugar.”
She put some milk in a big coffee mug and heated it in the nuker. “Lucy, if Mom lets that big cowboy romance her wildly and sweep her off her feet, if he moves her into his ranch house and they live in wild-and-crazy sin, it would be the best thing that ever happened to her.”
Lucy’s eyes were huge. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true. I’m putting some brandy in your milk, and some cinnamon. You need to calm down. You’re acting like you’re the mom and Maggie’s your teenager.”
“You don’t understand,” Lucy said. “What if Maggie falls in love with someone here in Pecan Creek?”
Sugar turned around. “What’s really bothering you?”
“I don’t see us staying in Pecan Creek forever.”
“It’s not a raging hot spot,” Sugar admitted, thinking about Pecan Fanny’s and the Bait and Burgers. “There’s a preponderance of older folk, I’ll grant you, which might be up Maggie’s alley. And she says she loves it here. But, Lucy, no one says you have to stay here and babysit us.”
Lucy looked stricken. “I’m the baby. I’m not ready to be pushed out of the nest. Even when we were in the military, we were stationed at Pensacola, Sugar. We were never far from home, except for some training and short deployments.”
Sugar finished making her sister’s toddy, then went to hug her. “Lucy, you don’t have to be our baby anymore,” she said, and Lucy said, “I know. You two are just so helpless,” and then they laughed, and Sugar fixed herself a straight-up toddy, no milk, and wondered if Jake really had taken Averie with an ie not a y home to her Barbie bed.
“Lot of sexual tension going on around here,” Lucy said darkly. “Just remember I warned you about the honest, innocent town of Pecan Creek.”
“I’ll be on guard against anyone who wants to toss me on a bed of rose petals and make me delirious with joy. But Mom can take care of herself.”
“I just don’t want to lose her,” Lucy said, and Sugar went to hug her sister again.
“We won’t. And we’re always going to have each other,” Sugar said, knowing now that Lucy’s voice was that of a small girl worried about her mother and breast cancer and maternal love being stolen from her. “We’ll make sure Lassiter understands Maggie has to be home by ten from now on, no excuses. Just like she made us do when we were teens.”
Lucy laughed. Sugar drank her toddy and thought about Jake and wondered if amends-among-friends was possible between them, when she really wished it had been her he’d taken home tonight.
“Damn it,” Jake said when banging erupted on his front door at three in the morning. He’d barely gotten to sleep. After taking Averie home, she’d had a tipsy fit on him, dragging up past tense you’re-the-only-man-I-ever-loved-didn’t-my-virginity-mean-anything shit. It had gotten old fast, and he’d left, after he’d made sure she wasn’t going to do anything but fall face-first into her bed.
The evening had certainly screwed up his night with Sugar. He’d been testing the waters, but they were colder than he’d realized. “Who is it?” he barked through the door.
“Kel. Debbie locked me out. And changed the locks.”
Jake jerked open the door. He stared out at Bobby and Kel. “Where’s Evert?”
“With Cat.”
Bobby and Kel passed him and headed into the den. They’d done this a thousand times, but tonight, Jake wanted peace and sleep. “Don’t you have a house, Bobby?” he asked, knowing it was pointless. His place had always been the hangout.
“I like yours better,” Bobby said.
It was becoming a theme. Apparently Bobby also liked his girl, even if Sugar didn’t know he had eyes for her and his feelings were unreciprocated. Jake sighed. “You know where the pillows and blankets are. I’m going back to bed.”
“We didn’t think you’d be here,” Kel said. “We figured you’d be at Averie’s. The only reason we banged on the door was because we saw your truck. Otherwise, we would have let ourselves in.”
“Thank you for respecting the obvious,” Jake said, “and there is no way I’d be staying at Averie’s, so please don’t encourage that rumor.”
“Whatever floats your boat.” Kel went past him, as did Bobby. He heard them unload the fridge and then commandeer their usual complement of blankets and pillows, and Jake wondered what it would be like if he wasn’t carrying everybody in this town.
That was a dishonorable thought. These men were his fellow soldiers, best friends, family. He went into the den where they’d ensconced themselves with the remote, bags of chips and a couple six packs of various sodas. Sighing, Jake let himself down into the leather recliner Evert usually selected. “Why’d Debbie lock you out?”
“I told you. She’s divorcing me because I’m a schmuck.” Kel didn’t look too happy. “I know she called me that because one of the kids heard her telling someone on the phone that I’m a schmuck, and that my dipstick doesn’t work anymore.”
“Crap.” Jake closed his eyes briefly. “I hope you realize after staring down Lucy’s blouse all night that you’re trying to drive a submarine with a paddle, Kel. You need to give up on this Lucy problem and get your wife back.”
“Hey. Porn.” Kel stared at the TV, entranced. “When did we start getting porn in PC?”
Bobby took the remote from Kel. “I’m not watching other people doing what I’m not.”
Jake looked at his friend. “And what was all that business with you sucking up to Sugar tonight, anyway, Bobby?”
Bobby shook his head. “I wasn’t sucking up. I just wasn’t leaving her to be the night’s leftover. That’s too hot of a woman to leave her sitting there staring at you trying to have it both ways.”
“I was not— Oh hell.” Jake got up. “Kel, do you need anything? Toothbrush?”
“Underwear,” Kel said. “Debbie says she gave almost all my clothes to charity. I think she left the suit I married her in. She said she wanted me to have a memento of what I gave up.”
“Christ. This is serious, Kel. I don’t think Debbie’s messing around about this divorce thing,” Jake said. “You need to fix this fast.”
“You know,” Kel said, his gaze on the TV where Bobby was channel-surfing, “when we were in Afghanistan, I thought about Debbie all the time. I just wanted to come home and be with her. Then I got home, and I swear she’d changed somehow.” He looked up at Jake. “This isn’t about Lucy. This started before Lucy.”
“Your dipstick lost its stick before you saw Lucy?” Bobby asked, his paw deep in a bag of chips.
“I just didn’t want to mention it before,” Kel said. His big face wore a tortured expression. “Can you imagine what it’s like to come home and not be able to make love to your wife?”
Jake and Bobby stared at him. Jake’s heart sank.
“God, I’m sorry, Kel. Have you thought about counseling?” Jake asked.
“I’m not going to counseling.”
“You think plowing a different field will fix it?” Bobby asked.
“I know it will,” Kel said. “I know it does. Just sitting next to Lucy tonight, smelling her perfume and looking down her blouse gave me a hard-on the likes I haven’t had in years.”
“Less details,” Jake said. “Look. I’m going to go out on a ledge here, way out of my comfort zone, but is there a chance maybe you and Debbie should seek couple’s counseling?”
Kel shook his head. “She’s not interested. She thinks my problem’s because of her.”
God. Maybe Kel had some kind of posttraumatic stress issue. Lucy had come to town hotter than a firecracker in July, and Debbie had latched on to Lucy as the reason for Kel’s problem, and Kel had latched on to Lucy as his savior.
Jake felt sorry for his friend. “Kel, man, I’m sorry as hell. But do yourself a favor. Do not look to Lucy for answers. She is not it.”
“This from a man who can’t decide which way his weather vane is blowing,” Kel said. “I just need a few pairs of underwear and a toothbrush.”
Jake glanced at Bobby. Bobby shrugged at Jake, lacking advice.
“Get whatever you need out of the guest room,” Jake said, and went upstairs to crawl in bed and think about Sugar.
Morning dawned bright and fresh, so Lucy pedaled the bicycle she’d found in the garage over to Charlotte Dawson’s house for another day of shipping jeweled and sequined funcaps for men. After waiting up in Sugar’s room all night for Maggie to come in, she’d heard the door open at five a.m., heard her mother quietly close the door and creep upstairs. Worry about Maggie had robbed her of any chance of sleeping after that, and besides, she had to be at Charlotte’s early but even her short day job was going to be tough today.
She slowed her bike when she saw Vivian Bentley standing in front of her house, planted in the sidewalk, obviously waiting for her.
She was not in the mood for whatever the witch was brewing. Lucy stopped her bike in front of Vivian. “Hello, Mrs. Bentley,” she said, in her best schoolgirl voice. “Nice morning, isn’t it?”
“I’d like to speak with you, Lucy,” Vivian said, “if I might have a moment of your time.”
“I’m kind of in a hurry, Mrs. Bentley.”
Vivian sniffed. “Charlotte’s peter heaters can wait. Come inside and have a cup of tea, please.”
Lucy shivered, her bare arms in her white blouse prickling in the sunshine. “Where should I put my bike?”
“I believe,” Vivian said, looking at Lucy’s transportation, “that is my old bike I used to ride into town for groceries. Since it’s older than you, you may lean it against the porch column. I doubt anyone will steal it.”
Lucy felt somewhat cowed, which annoyed her. I’ve been dressed down by military brass and other assorted a*sholes—why does uptight VB intimidate me?
She followed Jake’s mother inside the small, tidy home. “I don’t need tea, thanks, though. I really must hurry, Mrs. Bentley. Mrs. Dawson doesn’t like it if I’m late.”
“Very well. As Charlotte is the topic of conversation I want to discuss with you, we can start there.”
“Okay,” Lucy said, knowing very well that Charlotte had mentioned “friendly” competition between the two women. It might be friendly, but Charlotte had seemed distinctly pleased at being able to outdo her neighbor. “What’s up?”
“I want you to quit your job with Charlotte.”
Lucy’s eyes went round. “Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
Lucy glanced around the small house. Perhaps it lacked the charm of Charlotte’s, but maybe she felt that way because she liked Charlotte and Vivian could take a leap into the PC creek and she wouldn’t care. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bentley. I need the work. I can’t quit Mrs. Dawson, and anyway, I wouldn’t, without a really good reason.” She looked at Vivian, who seemed mildly annoyed that she was resisting. Lucy figured most people probably folded like a piece of paper if Vivian so much as gave them the evil eye.
Military life had been rife with evil eye. She was pretty jaded to it. Lucy stood a bit taller, secure in her stand.
“Then your mother will not be the mayor of the Pecan Creek Christmas parade,” Vivian said.
“Like Maggie cares,” Lucy shot back.
“I think she does,” Vivian said. “I think your mother also seems to want to join the book club and a few other select circles in town.”
“How do you know?” Lucy asked, curious. “Are you the head witch with final say-so on all the circles?”
Vivian’s lip curled. “You might say that.”
Lucy edged toward the door. “You’re a mean old woman. I don’t give a damn what you do to me. But if you upset my mother, you horrible old crow, I’ll tell your son that you’re a stinky, bossy, meddling old bitch and that he needs to put you in a home. I swear I will.”
Vivian stared at her. “You filthy-mouthed slut.”
Lucy shrugged. “Back at ya. Nice chatting with you, Mrs. Bentley, but I have to run.”
“Leave the bike,” Vivian said.
Lucy laughed. “You know what your problem is? You think you’ve got power because you’ve cowed everybody in this one-horse town. You have no power over me.”
Vivian smiled. Her lips thinned, and the smile never reached her eyes. “Oh, I think I do. Either you quit working for Charlotte, or you’ll be out of the house in a flash, you and your tawdry sister and your smoking mother.”
Lucy blinked. “You can’t throw us out. We have a lease until Christmas. We shouldn’t have signed it, mind you, but Jake rooked us into it—”
“That is my family home,” Vivian said. “And I don’t need a trio of trollops skanking the place up.”
“We paid cash for four months up front.”
“This is September. There’ll be no renewal. Christmas isn’t that far off.”
She was backed into a corner for sure. Sugar’s business couldn’t just be picked up and plunked down anywhere. Where else would they find free pecans? Jake didn’t charge them for gathering them. He said he didn’t care what they did because he wasn’t going to pay to have them picked up. And Maggie was happy for the first time in years, maybe, in the House of Sex.
She had no choice. “Is this because of me or Charlotte? Who are you trying to hurt here?”
“Neither. Charlotte’s ding-dong covers will sell without you; don’t be a twit. And you will blow out of town as fast as you blew in, and no one will remember you were even here. Don’t get all self-important.”
“Where do you expect me to work?” Lucy demanded.
“I don’t care. As long as it’s not for Charlotte.”
Lucy shook her head. “And you call yourself a friend. Some friendly competition.”
“Good-bye, Miss Cassavechia.”
Lucy went out the door, letting it slam behind her. She left the bike—wouldn’t have touched the hunk of junk now—and went to give her notice to Charlotte Dawson.
It felt like she was being dragged to a teacher whom she liked very much and had let down by cheating.
“She got to you, didn’t she?” Charlotte demanded when Lucy went inside the house to give notice. She handed Lucy a tissue. “Stop crying. This is not my first rodeo with Vivian Bentley. How did she know you were working for me?”
“I think,” Lucy said, trying hard not to sniffle and not sure why this old woman had penetrated her armor of worldliness, “because she has an evil eye and probably a spy camera in your basement.”
Charlotte led her to a sofa and forced her to sit. “It’s because she can’t stand that I have a successful business and she doesn’t. She started something up once. Potholders. Nobody wants old lady potholders. She refuses to sell anything that is a bit risqué. But people like risqué sometimes. It’s fun, as long as it’s not dirty. Folks just want to be happy and amused.”
“She’ll kick us out of her silly old sex mansion if I don’t quit. I can’t do that to Maggie and Sugar. They love that place.”
Charlotte nodded. “It’s okay. This is not your battle. I was hoping Vivian wouldn’t find out for a while longer, but I underestimated her spying.”
“Never do that again,” Lucy said. “She’s intense.”
“I know.” Charlotte looked around, came to a conclusion. “Tell you what. Since this is your last day, how about if I take a day off, and we fire up the Viking? I could teach you a couple of secret recipes, which Vivian Bentley would give her last real eyetooth to have.”
Lucy wiped her eyes with the tissue. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes, I do. I am more than happy to share a few secrets with you, because you’ve been a good employee, Lucy Cassavechia. All I ask is that occasionally, you make one of my recipes and bring it to a town gathering, just to smite my neighbor.”
Lucy smiled. “Anything for you, Mrs. Dawson.”
“Call me Charlotte. I think we know each other well enough to be friends, don’t you?”
“Yes, Charlotte,” Lucy said, following her new friend into the kitchen.
It was nice to have a new friend—she really dug Charlotte—but she also had an enemy now. And one thing Vivian Bentley didn’t know was that nobody messed with Lucy Cassavechia.
Not even the wicked old witch of Pecan Creek.