Bitter Root (16 page)

When she made it to the back drive, the smell of the boil
permeated the air, making her stomach grumble. “That smells fantastic. When do
we get to eat?”

“It won’t be long now. The vegetables are done. They’re in that
ice chest. Now we add the crawfish.”

Adi added lemons and more seasonings to the water. When it
returned to a boil, she dumped the crawfish, flipping and fighting, into a wire
basket and lowered them into the water. She put the lid on and sat down near
the cooking pot.

“This is the tricky part. I have to watch for the boil to come
back up. Then we wait two minutes and kill the heat. Could you bring me that
bucket of water?” She pointed to a bucket near the porch.

Griffith collected the bucket, noting that the water was cold.
When the time was right, Adi turned off the propane and opened the pot. She
slowly poured in the cold water.

“Now I’m going to need your help. Open that second ice chest and
help us pour in the crawfish. Bertie, time to season.”

Bertie grabbed the box of seasoning while Griffith opened the ice
chest and Adi lifted the wire basket. “Get that big paddle now and stir as
Bertie seasons.”

As Adi slowly poured in the crawfish, Bertie sprinkled in the
seasoning and Griffith stirred the whole mess. It was like clockwork. Clearly,
they had done this many times before, and Griffith appreciated having a part in
the process.

When they were finished, Adi closed the ice chest and smiled at
Griffith. “Now you can say you’ve done a crawfish boil. Bertie? Who’s coming by
to eat?”

“T’Claude said he’d be by, and Jose and his girl too. Go on and
get the table spread. I’ll get the trash can lined and ready.”

“Can I do something? Shall I get plates?”

They turned and stared at her.

“Ah, no, no plates. We’re going to spread the table with
newspaper. When folks get here we’ll put out paper plates and folks can fill
them. You just put your trash on the newspaper. When dinner is over, we’ll roll
it up and put it in the trash can. You know us Cajuns, very efficient. No
reason to waste clean plates on a crawfish boil. Come on, let’s get the table.”

Adi led them to the garage and a large round table with a hole in
the center the size of a garbage can. They carefully rolled it out to the
driveway and set it up. They piled the top with open sheets of newspaper,
tucking an edge into the trash can Adi slid below the hole.

“Now when we’re done, everyone rolls together and cleanup is a
cinch. There are folding chairs in the garage too.”

They placed six chairs around the table and sat while they waited
for the others to arrive.

“Well, city gal, whatcha make of crawfishing?” Bertie smiled.

“I think it was hard work. Lots of stink and mud.”

Adi and Bertie laughed.

“Yeah, you right about that. Lots of mud, for sure. But it was
fun too, no?”

Griffith thought about the day. It had been fun riding the
four-wheeler with her body pressed against Adi. It had been fun to work
together and catch so many crawfish. And cleaning up? That would have been more
fun if Adi had slipped into the shower with her.

“It was fun. Not something I want to do on a regular basis, but
fun.”

There was a loud scraping sound as T’Claude pushed through the
gate.

“Hey, y’all. I brought the beer.” T’Claude held up a cooler.
“Nice and cold. Who’s ready?” He handed a dripping bottle to each of them.
“Allow me.” He popped the caps with his church key.

Griffith was sure she’d had a Rolling Rock before, but it had
never tasted so good. Jose walked up the driveway with a lovely young woman.
She waved and smiled.

“Hi, Ms. McNaulty, Adi. This is Rosa.”

“Hi, Rosa, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Grab a couple of beers, Jose. I’ll go get plates.” Adi went up
the stairs and into the kitchen. T’Claude began a long and rambling tale about
getting stuck in the mud crawfishing with his daddy. When everyone had gathered
around the table, Adi handed them each a double stacked Dixie plate.

“Time to eat. If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up.”

Adi served a heaping plate of crawfish, potato, and corn and
handed it to Bertie. She sat and waited for everyone else to get their fill.
The food and company was perfect, and they spent far longer at the table than
Griffith had expected. They went from tale to tale, laughing and joking. She
expected everyone was getting loose because of the beer, but she realized no
one had had more than one or two. This was just how this community of friends
spent their shared time.

The entire thing was so at odds with the superficial times she’d
spent with friends in LA. There everyone was watching to see who was coming in
the door, making sure they were noticed in a good way. No one connected like
this. And not one cell phone had come out all evening. That was unheard of at
home. She and her friends had made a pact that the first one to pull a phone
paid the tab. That wasn’t even a consideration here. It was delightful and she
felt lucky to experience it. When they were finally winding down, she saw
Bertie nod at Adi.

“Okay, y’all. Rolling time.”

Everyone stood, and Griffith followed suit. They began at the
table’s edge just in front and rolled toward the center. She did her best to
keep up. When she reached a particularly large pile of shell or corncob, Adi
helped get the roll over the bump. Soon the whole shebang was pushed down into
the lined trash can.
Such
a smart way to do this. We wouldn’t think of using a trash can this way at
home.

“Well, that was easy.”

“Sure enough. We like it easy. Come on. Let’s go sit on the
porch.”

Now Griffith understood the abundance of rockers and the large
swing. The evening continued in the comfort of the porch.
I could get used to this life.
It’s so laid back.
Adi sat beside her on the swing, her long legs
stretched out in front of her. T’Claude pulled out a cigar case and offered
them around. Bertie took one, as did Jose. Rosa and Adi declined.

“Okay now, California, check out this fine tobacco. I know you
ain’t got nothing like this where you come from.”

“That sounds like a challenge. I’m sure it’s fine tobacco, but I
don’t know if it can top what we have in LA. I’ll try one.” She took a long,
slender cigar from the case and ran it under her nose. The light scent of
whiskey and vanilla was appealing. T’Claude held out his torch lighter to each
of them, and they were soon surrounded by the fragrant smoke. He was right.
This was finer tobacco than any she’d ever smoked. But then, maybe it was just
the company.
I can’t
remember a nicer evening
.

“This has been so wonderful. I hate the thought of the evening
ending, but I’m really tired. Is there anything I can do before I head home?”

“No, ma’am. You did plenty today. If you hadn’t helped Adi with
the fishing, there wouldn’t have been any eating. You just go on home and rest
up. Adi, take this girl on home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They walked out to the truck. Adi took a few minutes and unhitched
the trailer. After they had buckled in, Adi reached over and held Griffith’s
hand in her injured one. They drove to the hotel in comfortable silence.

The lights of the hotel seemed harsh after the pleasant evening,
and Griffith felt the loss. Adi turned off the truck and faced her. Her face
was a study of light and shadow, so serious.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to look at you. Can I have a good night
kiss?”

“You can.”

Adi leaned over and kissed her deeply. Griffith wanted the kiss
to last forever.
The
perfect ending to a perfect day.
When they parted, she smiled. “I’m
going to miss spending the day with you tomorrow.”

“Me too. We’re going to be busy at the Pot, but you can, I mean,
if you want, you can come over and hang out.”

“I’m sure I’d just be in the way. Don’t worry. I have work to do.
I’ve got a deadline on your story, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot what brought you here.”

“Me too.”

“So, are you ready to write it now? Do you have everything you
need?”

“Pretty much, but I’d still like to know what you ran away from
when you were a child.”

Adi looked down, avoiding the issue. “I don’t want you to leave.
I want you to stay, at least until Monday. I want one more day with you.”

“I’ll stay. I want one too.” She kissed Adi then, a kiss that
said she trusted her. That said she would wait and hear her story. That she
valued the time they spent together. At least, she hoped that’s what Adi got
out of it.

Adi’s gaze as they moved apart was piercing. “That means so much
to me, Griffith. Thank you.”

“You’re different from anyone I’ve known. I like being with you.
Thank you for the crawfishing lesson. Next time I get to drive the
four-wheeler,” Griffith said.

“Next time, huh? Think you’ll be here long enough for a next
time?”

“You never know. I know being with you is an adventure. I like
adventures.”

“It would be nice to have more of those with you,” Adi said.

“Yes, it would. I guess I should go in, unless you’d like to join
me?” Griffith watched as the overhead light illuminated Adi’s blush.
Damn, she’s gorgeous. She doesn’t
have a clue how sexy she is.

“I…uh…I don’t think I’m ready for that. I better get back home.”

“You sure? I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Griffith gave
her best come-hither look, but she could tell Adi was just too shy to jump.

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t even know…I mean, I’m not sure…heck, I
don’t know what I mean.”

Griffith let her off the hook. “It’s okay. If you decide you’re
ready before I leave, you’ll let me know, right?”

“Yes, I will. I promise.”

Griffith climbed down and closed the truck door. She watched as
Adi pulled away.
What am
I doing? I’m so drawn to her. Is it just because she’s different, that this
whole world is different? Is there more here than simple novelty?
If
not, she really needed to pull back. Hurting Adi to slake her own lust and
curiosity wasn’t cool. Adi wore her heart on her sleeve. Messing with her meant
messing with her heart.
Is
that something I want to live with? Am I that shallow?
Maybe in the
past, but not now. Not anymore. She was going to do her best to leave Adi
undamaged, no matter what her libido dictated or her journalist’s instinct
demanded.

Adi watched Griffith in her rearview mirror as she pulled
out of the parking lot.
What’s
wrong with me? She just invited me into her room. Am I crazy
? There
was something about Griffith and the way they were together that Adi didn’t
want to spoil by rushing things. She briefly wondered if she should worry about
being so open. Lots of people could have seen them kissing and carrying on, and
in this town, that news would spread like wildfire. But was she willing to keep
that part of her quiet anymore?

She thought about the way it felt, the way her stomach flipped
over and she felt like jumping out of her skin with happiness, and she knew she
was done worrying about what other folks thought. Sure, maybe she’d never get
the chance to sleep with Griff, but if not, that was okay. She wanted to really
know her before she took that step. Griffith was like a shiny new penny. Something
you wanted real bad, but when you had it a while, it ended up as tarnished as
all the others.
I don’t
want that. I want Griffith to keep her shine. What if sleeping with her changed
everything? What if it made it weird to be together?
Adi hadn’t had many
friends, really just the gang at the Pot, and way back, Rachel.

When the thing with Ransom happened and J.B. made her more a part
of his business, she’d lost the connection she had with Rachel. He’d kept her
so busy, and when she was free, being with Rachel made her feel dirty. Like the
things she’d had to do were marks on her skin that Rachel could see. And there
were so many secrets, things she couldn’t say…their friendship had been
poisoned by the life he made her live. Adi had just stopped hanging out with
her. She convinced herself it was to protect Rachel, but she knew that wasn’t
totally true. It was what she had to do to survive.

She thought about her conversations with Bertie and felt the
truth of them deep in her soul.
I’m
tired of being afraid. I don’t want to hide any more. How can I tell the truth
without putting all of us in danger?
What if she laid it all out for
Griffith and asked her for her help? Would she be able to do anything? Would
she know how to safeguard Bertie and T?
Can
I trust her enough to ask?
She was starting to think she could. That
maybe Griffith would treat her story with the kind of care it needed.

She wanted to believe it could be that simple. That with
Griffith’s help she could get out from under the threat of J.B. and maybe live
a normal life.
But what
about the things I did? What about Ransom? Am I going to end up behind bars?
That’s probably where I belong. I killed him and helped hide the others.
She needed to think about it, long and hard, before doing anything stupid. When
she drove into the driveway, she was no less conflicted than she was before.
Bertie and T were still on the porch. She dropped into the swing and sighed in
frustration.

“What’s up, puppy? Why you moping around?” T asked.

“No reason. I’m tired, I guess.”

“You didn’t hurt your hand out in the mud, huh?” Bertie said.

“No, the hand’s fine,” Adi said.

“Well, just tell us what it is that’s got you in a funk,” Bertie
said.

“I don’t know what it is. I’m just all mixed up inside.”

“You know what I do when I’m not sure which way to go? I just
plain stop. I sit and open myself up to all the choices I’ve got, then I just
wait. Eventually, my heart leads me one way or the other. It’s never failed me.
You should try it,” T said.