“I believe this belongs to you, since you took their order. Woody handed it to me when he left. Because we both kind of waited on the table, he didn’t know who to give it to, but that side belongs to you.”
“Thanks. I didn’t think we’d be this busy on a Sunday with a big thing later this afternoon.” Jancy filled three glasses with sweet tea.
“Neither did Nettie. It’s a good thing that we’re here to work the front. Now it’s over—except for any truckers that we’ll get—because everyone is off to Sunday school and then church.”
Jancy picked up a wet bar rag and a small tub to clean off the last table. “I don’t think I ever worked so hard or got so many tips in three hours in my life.”
“I’ll help get the tables cleared and then we can take a break and eat,” Emily said. “We got off track this morning about me comin’ in so late,” she whispered as she put cups and plates into the tub.
Jancy had made a promise to Nettie that she’d find out what was going on with Emily, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear about it. Knowing meant she had an obligation to tell, and she liked where things were with all three of them. Tattling somehow didn’t seem right, and yet, she’d agreed to help Nettie. Talk about being between the old rock and a hard place.
That’s what she’d told the police when they came to question her about her boyfriend’s job. They’d offered her a deal and she’d made her choice, but it had come with a dump truck load of guilt attached to it. A rock on one side and a hard place on the other, and she’d have to make a choice because it was evident that Emily wanted to talk about things.
“Hey, y’all, the biscuits are done,” Nettie called.
“Later,” Emily whispered.
Jancy nodded and followed Emily to the kitchen. She hiked a hip on a bar stool and grabbed a biscuit from the pan.
Nettie sat down beside her. “Butter?”
“No, these are like eating cake. They don’t need anything else,” Jancy answered.
Vicky pulled up the third stool. “My feet hurt and I’m starving.”
Emily hoisted the pitcher filled with batter. “Pancakes, anyone?”
“Yes,” Jancy said. “I’ll fry eggs when we finish eating.”
“Good. There’s plenty of leftover bacon and sausage gravy for the four of us, too,” Nettie said.
“Shane was flirting with Jancy.” Emily poured batter onto the griddle.
“He was not.” Jancy blushed. “And if he was, it was useless. I have sworn off all men forever, amen.”
“Bad relationship?” Nettie asked.
Jancy nodded. “More than one.”
“Want to talk about it?” Emily asked.
“Not today. Maybe later. Today is all about the picnic and trying to remember the clogging steps that I haven’t practiced in six years,” Jancy said.
“Want to practice out in the diner? I haven’t clogged in years, either,” Emily said.
Jancy wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this new offer of friendship and camaraderie. Six years ago she would have stumbled over her own two feet for an offer to be Emily Rawlins’s friend, but there’d been a lot of water under the bridge since then. And Emily might not be so quick to offer her friendship if she knew everything about Jancy. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to at least be nice.
“I’d love it, but let’s eat first,” Jancy said.
Vicky and Nettie sat on bar stools and watched Emily and Jancy dancing to a clogging song that Emily had pulled up on her phone. The whining fiddles took Vicky off the stool on the second dance, and by the beginning of the third, Nettie had joined them.
Nettie was breathless when the song ended and collapsed with her feet up in a booth. “Man, that takes the energy right out of a person. Wasn’t sure that I’d remember the steps, but it’s a lot like riding a bicycle. And just as hard on the legs and knees.”
Vicky slid into another booth. “Amen to that. You girls did a fine job. I don’t think either of you will be embarrassed this afternoon. Just take your cowboy boots so you can make lots of noise on the wood floor.”
“Who needs a gym class?” Jancy panted as she popped up on a bar stool.
“Now that we’re limbered up and we’ve got a few minutes, you want to tell us about those bad relationships, Jancy?” Nettie asked.
“Why ruin the perfect moment?” Jancy smiled.
“Amen. That was fun,” Vicky agreed.
“Besides,” Emily panted, “why worry with past relationships when there’s a new one off the horizon for Jancy? Shane really was flirting with her this morning.”
“Shane has roots. I’ve grown a pretty good set of wings,” she said.
“Wings can be clipped,” Nettie said.
“Not unless you stand still and let someone do it,” Jancy answered. “How about you, Emily? You got wings or roots?”
“My roots are so deep in Pick that they run down halfway to China. No one could ever get me out of here permanently.” Emily went to the drink machine and filled four glasses with lemonade.
“Oh, honey, don’t give up your wings,” Vicky said. “You are still young. There is plenty of time to settle down. Let those wings take you to places where you’ll build beautiful memories.”
Emily set a glass in front of Vicky and kissed her on the top of the head. “Memories can grow like a big old oak tree with roots here just as easily as they can on the wings of someone who can’t ever find a place to settle.”
She was right, but not all memories were good ones. Jancy was the poster child for bad ones. Maybe that’s why she kept moving around—outrunning what she didn’t want to remember.
CHAPTER SIX
Vicky’s heart had gone out to Jancy as they were drinking lemonade. There was a lot of pain in her face—the kind that no one her age should have to deal with. She should have been in college with Emily, having fun and worrying about whether she passed a test, not sleeping in her car and worrying about where her next meal would come from. Vicky felt a desperate tugging on her heartstrings to help Jancy find her roots, almost as much as the pull for Emily to find her wings.
“It hasn’t changed,” Jancy said when Vicky pulled the van into a parking place at the park.
“Not much does in Pick.” Emily slid open the side door. “And I hope it stays like this forever.”
Vicky was fighting with Carlton over the same thing, so she couldn’t say a word. If she didn’t win the fight, there wouldn’t be a park in a few years. With two swing sets, a slide, and a merry-go-round, it wasn’t a big park, but it did have a pavilion with three picnic tables and a basketball court. The city paid to keep the lights on until ten o’clock every night. The parents of the kids who gathered there on the weekends to sneak a beer or make out would have gladly paid their share to the power company. Darkness bred all kinds of mischief that the lights kept at a minimum.
“Hey.” Shane waved and hurried over to the van to help unload the food. “Is that Nettie’s meat loaf? Man, who wants barbecue when we got this?”
“Our host isn’t here yet?” Vicky asked.
“No, he’ll wait until the park is full and then make a grand entrance,” Ryder said as he took the sheet cake from Nettie’s hands.