Down Home Dixie (15 page)

When Kyle turned the truck into her driveway, a late-model gray sedan was parked outside the garage.

Disconcerted, Dixie thudded back to reality. “Whose car is that?” she asked.

Kyle didn't reply, though a peculiar expression washed across his face. It bespoke wariness, disbelief or worse.

Dixie sat forward a bit. “That car doesn't belong to any friends of mine,” she said with definite foreboding. “And it doesn't look like a birthday present.” As she spoke, a figure emerged from the shadows and walked smartly down the back steps. It was female in nature, wearing a charcoal business suit with no-nonsense dark pumps. And its handbag yapped.

“Oh, damn,” Kyle said in pure disgust.

“Who is it?” Dixie asked as if she didn't know.

“Unfortunately, it's Andrea,” he said. “And Twinkle.”

 

“T
HERE NOW
, Twinks,” Andrea said as the little Yorkie lifted a leg against one of the newly transplanted dogwood saplings. “You're due for a treat.” She tossed him a biscuit.

“So are we,” Kyle said under his breath. “Apparently.”

Dixie ignored this, giving every evidence that her mind was running in circles trying to figure out what the unannounced appearance of Kyle's former girlfriend meant. The woman was giving Dixie the once-over. No, make that a twice-over, going for three.

“Well, um, do come in,” Dixie said politely, though this invitation brought forth daggers of indignance from Kyle's eyes, as in, “What's up with
this?
” Nevertheless, he was sure that Dixie was not going to let a stranger leave the premises without offering at least a glass of iced tea. He loved her for her hospitality—where would he be without it? This, however, might be over the top.

Twinkle lifted his head and sniffed the air. Kyle immediately realized that the dog was perking up to the familiar scent that told him there was something worth biting in the area.
Bingo!
Twinkle, beribboned topknot bouncing above his eyes, growled and aimed straight for Kyle's calf. Kyle jumped aside a mere second before the animal would have sunk his fangs into the skin.

“Up to his old tricks,” Kyle muttered.

Andrea scooped Twinkle up and stuffed him into her purse. “Go to sleep. Twinks. It's been a long day,” she said soothingly.

And getting even longer,
Kyle thought.

Dixie held the back door open, and Andrea marched inside. Kyle, wondering why Andrea got to use the back door same as any friend, followed the two women. At the moment, he wished he were anywhere else, but no one seemed to care.

“Andrea, you shouldn't have come here,” he said when they were all congregated in Dixie's kitchen.

“I want to talk,” Andrea said to Kyle, blinking in the light from the fluorescent fixture over the sink. “Since you wouldn't go home, I came to you instead.”

Dixie hiked her brows at that. “Why don't we all sit down,” she suggested as she began to pour tea from the unending supply in the pitcher.

After setting a glass in front of each of them, Dixie took her place beside Andrea. Kyle had compared the two women in his mind, and now he could do it in person. Though Andrea's dark hair was usually sleek and well styled, tonight it drooped over her forehead, hanging in her eyes. Her suit fit too tightly across the bust and hips, indicating that she'd gained weight since Kyle had seen her last. Dixie, on the other hand, was blond perfection in blue jeans worn with a form-fitting sweater the shade of daffodils but with a bit of a dry brown leaf stuck to the back.

“Why are you really here, Andrea?”

“Like I said. To talk to you.” The way Andrea was so critically studying Dixie revealed the real truth, which was that she was eager to find out what kind of woman had won his heart.

“Where are you staying?”

Andrea tossed her hair back. “You can recommend a good motel, right?”

“You won't find a room at the Magnolia, that's the only local place,” Kyle told her. He was more than familiar with how fast the Magnolia's available rooms were usually taken on weekends.

“I saw another possibility on the way into town. The sign advertised rooms for six dollars an hour.”

“Not a good idea,” Kyle said hastily. “On the other hand, you could try Florence. It's a thirty-five-mile drive.”

Andrea stared uncomprehendingly. “That's way too far.”

“I, um,” Dixie began, ignoring his warning glance.

“Dixie,” he cautioned, but she avoided his eyes.

“I suppose you could sleep here,” Dixie finished against his will. So much for communion of the spirit. She'd switched off on her end, obviously.

“Dixie, are you out of your mind?” he bellowed.

Andrea spared Dixie a look of gratitude or maybe it was some other emotion, he wasn't sure. The only clear thing was that the two of them were now a closed circuit and he wasn't in their loop.

“You
could
bunk in the playhouse,” Dixie said to Andrea.

A faint smile touched Andrea's lips. “Oh, that little doll house? I peeked in the window when I first arrived. It's surely too small.”

“Well, back to the spare bedrooms,” Dixie said, valiantly trying again. “I haven't set up the extra bed yet, it's just a mattress and box springs on the floor, but you're welcome to it. Isn't she, Kyle?”

He was not under any circumstances going to sleep with Dixie in her room with his ex listening on the other side of the thin walls. He tried to come up with alternate arrangements that wouldn't require him to move to another bed, but there weren't any.

“
I'll
sleep in the playhouse,” he said.

Dixie tilted her head as if perplexed, and Kyle supposed it was too much for her to understand. She regarded sex between two consenting adults as only natural and right, so chances were that if it occurred to her that Andrea might hear or see something, she wouldn't care. And there was always the possibility that Dixie was the sort who would like to show off how sexually compatible they were with a stellar performance, complete with bed knockings and intensified moans in hopes of running Andrea off ASAP. Women were like that sometimes.

He stood to leave. “See you in the morning.” By mistake he bumped against Andrea's purse on the way out the back door, dislodging Twinkle. The dog growled menacingly and chased him, but Kyle managed to slam the screen door between them in the nick of time. He hoped the dog got a snoutful of plastic mesh.

Kyle glumly stuffed his hands down in his pockets and headed for the playhouse. By the time he was lying on the cot, the only lights lit in the big house were upstairs.

He'd much rather be resting beside Dixie, the TV on in the background as he stroked her hair back from her forehead with one hand and explored her sweet curves with the other. He dreamed about never having to sleep apart from her again, if that were actually possible.

It was an hour or so before he was surprised by the application of two cold feet to his warm ones. He woke with a start.

“Dixie?”

“Well, who else would it be? I wish I'd worn my warm nightgown, though, seeing as how it's a little chilly in here.”

“We could warm this place up real fast.”

“That's what I'm banking on. I brought a half bottle of merlot to help us out.”

He hitched himself up onto one elbow and made room for her and the cold bottle between them. By now something else was between them, as well, rendering Dixie most appreciative.

“Maybe we could leave the wine for later,” she said, closing her cold hands around him.

“Damn right,” he said. “Have you ever made love on a balance beam?”

“Very funny,” Dixie murmured as she slid her leg over his.

He didn't remember the wine until much later, but by then, they were out of the mood for it.

 

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
, Dixie was enjoying her second cup of coffee in the break room at the Yewville Real Estate office, and Mayzelle was listening to her recap of Saturday night's Andrea appearance.

“She brought her nasty little dog?” Mayzelle asked, all ears. “It tried to bite Kyle?”

“Yes, and at first, Kyle seemed primed to kick that animal clear out of the house,” Dixie said.

“Kyle wouldn't harm anything if his life depended on it,” Mayzelle said, bending down to stroke one of Fluffy's silky ears.

“Well, he must have hurt Andrea pretty seriously,” Dixie retorted. “Otherwise why would she travel more than five hundred miles to have a word with him?”

Mayzelle pursed her lips, considering. “Just in case he's made an awful mistake and feels like correcting it?”

“She's bound to be sadly disappointed. He's fixing to move down here. Or at least he's making noises about it.”

“He's wanting to be near
you,
” Mayzelle pointed out approvingly.

“That, too.” This knowledge was a source of comfort.

“What does Andrea look like?”

“They say people start to resemble their dogs. Andrea doesn't. Just the opposite, in fact—she's all sleek dark hair and a long skinny face.” Despite Dixie's prior imaginings, Kyle's ex wasn't at all voluptuous, and she didn't wear dangly earrings. Dixie wasn't sure about the see-through underwear, but she'd been relieved to discover that Andrea's voice wasn't sexy but pitched in a register slightly higher than a fire alarm.

Mayzelle sat up straight and frowned. “Do I look like Fluffy?” she asked anxiously with a doubtful glance at her overweight poodle.

“Not at all, Mayzelle,” Dixie said, being generous. “Your hairdo is way more trendy. Plus, the color is back to Desert Dream, and it's very becoming.”

“You're sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“I'm surprised you didn't throw Andrea out right away,” Mayzelle said. “I would have.”

“My mama raised me to help people out when I can. Andrea's a woman in a strange town with no decent motel rooms likely to be available. I mean, I've had boyfriends that did me wrong. I went to some lengths to express my unhappiness about it, and that's apparently what she's doing. I wouldn't care to be tossed out into the night if I were Andrea.”

“Dixie—”

“Now, never you mind, Mayzelle. I think what I think, and in my opinion, I'm better off to let Andrea have her say with Kyle. Then we'll be rid of her for good.”

“You do seem sure of yourself,” Mayzelle told her.

“I'd say I'm over those self-esteem problems,” Dixie said, though in her mind she'd never had any.

“You go, girl!”

They exchanged grins.

“What did everyone do at your house yesterday? I'm trying to imagine what it must have been like around there.”

“Kyle went to Camden, an easy out. I attended church as usual, then Sunday dinner at Memaw's, and I threw in a couple of loads of laundry when I got home. Andrea kept bugging me about when Kyle was coming back, and when he didn't show up by dark, she asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink.”

“Did you?”

“No, I pointed her in the direction of the cream cake in the fridge and left to visit Voncille, Skeeter and the kids.”

“What about Kyle?”

“He was asleep in the playhouse when I got back from Vonnie's. I joined him.”

Mayzelle laughed. “And stayed all night.”

“You got it.” The bed was hardly big enough for one person, much less a couple, and now she'd slept in it with Kyle for two nights in a row. But they'd managed. Oh, how they had managed. Her neck was still stiff from the effort of making love with her head hanging off the end of the mattress last night. Kyle had snickered and said that they would have been better off to do it standing up, but Dixie pointed out that since he was so tall and the ceiling so low, he would have been the one with the stiff neck in that case.

“So what's happening now?”

“Kyle is going to talk to her.”

Mayzelle tossed her foam cup in the trash can. “When you get home today, I bet Andrea is gone.”

“When I get home, she'd better be.”

Dixie and Mayzelle were both laughing as Dixie gathered up her papers for her appointment with the Maine coon man.

 

T
HAT MORNING
, shortly after Dixie left for work, Kyle began scrubbing their breakfast eggs off the forks, framing his upcoming discussion with Andrea in his head. While he was cleaning up, Andrea floated downstairs, trailing several yards of pale blue chiffon and cradling Twinkle under one arm.

“Coffee?” Kyle offered, trying not to see through her negligee, though that was clearly the whole point.