“The many layers of Jancy.” Nettie got out of the van and headed toward the porch.
“I don’t like fightin’, but no one is going to push me around or my friends, either,” Jancy said.
“Or pull you away once you get started?” Emily hit the button to open the wide back doors.
Jancy hopped out of the vehicle and went straight to the bathroom, where she washed her face and picked the leaves from her hair.
Vicky watched her from the doorway. “Hope that black eye is healed by the wedding.”
“At least the bride won’t have a black eye.” She grinned.
As Vicky went on down the hall toward the living room, Jancy’s phone pinged in the pocket of her flowing skirt. When she reached for it, she realized there was a long tear in the gauze, and upon closer inspection, a big hole yawned in the shoulder of the matching bright-orange shirt. If that sorry broad showed up in Pick again, Jancy was going to finish the job she’d started—her favorite outfit was ruined.
“Hello,” she said coldly.
“Guess it’s too early to call?” Shane sounded miserable.
“My skirt and shirt are ruined,” she said.
“And your eye is black.”
“I can see in the mirror.”
“I never knew you had a temper.”
Jancy stripped out of the skirt and shirt and carried them to her bedroom. They weren’t even fixable. She put the phone on speaker and dug out a pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top from the closet. “Shane, I learned a long time ago that people only push you around if you let them. I’ll be over my mad spell in an hour if you want to drop by.”
“Wh-why don’t you come over here?” he said.
“Not tonight, darlin’. I’m not leavin’ Emily.”
“It wasn’t Ryder’s fault,” Shane said.
“Yes, it was. He could have thrown that girl out in the yard.”
She got dressed and fell back on the bed, the adrenaline leaving her body as fast as it had filled her veins. Now she was exhausted. “One hour, Shane. If you want to see me, be here at nine o’clock. I’ll be the one with the black eye on the porch.”
“Can I bring Ryder with me?”
“If Emily says it’s okay. See you then.” She hung up and pulled a letter from the nightstand.
My dearest Jancy,
This isn’t going to be an easy letter to write, because if I don’t get the words just right, you might get the wrong idea. But I want to talk to you about letting people run over you. I have not been a good role model in this area. The time to fix something is when it’s first broken, not when it’s shattered in so many pieces that there’s not enough glue in the world to put it back together again. I love your father, but neither of us has been the type of parent that you deserve. With his wanderlust and my inability to stand up to him, life has not been good to you.
Don’t ever be the bully that those mean girls were to you in Beaumont, Texas, but when someone is ugly, take care of it like you did then. Your daddy was so proud of you that day. He said that you were finally showing a little of his blood. Truth was, I was glad you stood up to that girl, but I worried that you might get a taste for that kind of thing. It would be easy to approach ugly situations with anger, but my advice is not to stand there with empty threats. Just get the job done and kick off the dust. Don’t let your temper define who you are . . .
“But I did just that today, Mama. That bitch made me so mad when she insulted Emily and then pushed me. I’d already hit her before I realized what I was doing, and then I had to keep on or she’d have blacked both my eyes.”
A soft knock sounded on the door, and then Vicky pushed it open. “You okay, Jancy?”
“I was just reading a letter from Mama,” she said as she put it back into the envelope. “She had letters from my grandmother, and they were a comfort to her. I don’t know that she had a premonition about her life, but she wrote me a stack of letters and left birthday cards for me. When things get tough, I get them out and read them, and she’s right—they are a comfort.”
“Oh, Jancy.” Vicky sat down beside her on the bed and wrapped her up in her arms. “I’m so glad that you are here. What you did for Emily was . . . There are no words.”
“Couldn’t have her in jail because she killed that trash.” Jancy smiled. “Ouch!”
“It’s goin’ to hurt worse tomorrow. Let’s go get some ice to put on it.”
“Guess I destroyed any idea that I was doing my best to be a good person, didn’t I? Brawlin’ in the church parking lot like that.” Jancy groaned.
“You are you, Jancy. What anyone thinks of you isn’t as important as what you think of yourself. Would you tie into that girl again?”
Without hesitation she said, “Yes, I would. She shouldn’t have pushed me.”
“Then your conscience is clear. I’m glad that you know how to take up for yourself, but then, I should have known that . . .” The sentence hung in the air like a big white elephant.
“That I’ve lived a tough life,” Jancy finished for her.
“I was going to say that you didn’t have anyone to do it for you, but I really liked Elaine and didn’t want . . .”
Jancy hugged her. “It’s okay, Vicky. I understand. Now about that ice?”
Vicky led the way to the kitchen. “I wish my mother would have written me letters. There were so many times I wanted to hear her voice.”
“Hey, are you all right?” Emily handed Jancy a bag of frozen peas. “We don’t have a steak, but maybe this will help.”
“Thanks.” The cold felt good against Jancy’s eye and cheek.
“How do you know about steak and peas?” Vicky filled four glasses with ice and poured sweet tea into them.
Emily slung an arm around Vicky. “I lived in a dorm, Mama. Some of those girls had pretty wicked tempers.”
“Vicky thought that a dorm was all popcorn and giggles?” Jancy grinned.
“If you’re all right with it, I’m going over to Shane’s to forgive Ryder. This wasn’t his fault, and I overreacted. If I’d gotten out of the church two minutes later, he would have peeled that woman off his body,” Emily said.
“I’m fine. Go take care of this. Never go to sleep on an argument. Either get it settled and make up or fight all night,” Jancy said.
Emily smiled. “Who said that?”
“An eighty-year-old woman who was still cookin’ in a little café where I worked,” Jancy answered. “Put these peas back in the fridge. I’ll go with you. Shane and I need to talk, too.”
“Take them with you,” Vicky said. “So the wedding is still on?”
Emily hugged Vicky. “It couldn’t have been easy to take up for Ryder—I appreciate it. I love Ryder and I’m going to marry him even if I have to plow through dozens of his old booty calls. And I’m sure glad that our wedding bands are those wide ones you can see a mile off.”
“Amen!” Jancy said. “Let’s walk over there. It’ll give us a little while longer to get our makeup speeches ready.”
“Great idea,” Emily said.
CHAPTER TWENTY