Talk of the Town (39 page)
“I wasn’t using you.” Carter’s voice was soft, intimate. It washed over me like the warm waves of a peaceful shore, lapping at my feet, trying to lure me into the surf, where a dangerous riptide of need, and fantasy, and loneliness lay hidden beneath the surface.
“Don’t.” My voice quivered, started to bend. “Don’t bother.”
In my mind, he was David, trying to gloss over the reasons for cruising
Mydestiny.com
.
Carter had even been smart enough, ruthless enough to use my breakup with David to sucker me in.
“The guy on the phone is an idiot, by the way. For what it’s worth, the guy’s a fool.”
I was the fool. Like every good scam artist, Carter had found the tender spot. He had discovered the place where I was weak. He had put sweet-smelling salve on the wound, and I’d been putty in his hands.
He closed the space between us, tried to touch me.
“Don’t,” I hissed, my voice trembling with an overspill of emotion. I had to get out of there. I had to get out of there before I fell apart in front of everyone. Turning around, I hurried across the lawn to the crew vans, climbed into the front one, started the engine, and took off, headed nowhere, somewhere. Anywhere but here.
Watching Amber take that stage at the fairgrounds was one of the highest points of my life, not only because Brother Harve, O.C., the Andersons, and I were on the very top of the bleachers, but because when Amber belted out the national anthem and the flag unfurled high above the stadium, it was a moment of pure glory. I could feel my Jack, and all the other soldiers who’d passed on, standing right there with us. They probably had to wipe away tears of pride just like I did. Life has only a handful of perfect moments, and that was one of mine.
And then, no sooner had Amber got off stage than there was Justin Shay, running through the arena in nothing but red shorts, trying to get everyone to look at him. Heaven’s gates! Why he did that, I couldn’t imagine, but at least he got arrested for it. When Buddy Ray took him into custody, Justin Shay was arguing at the top of his lungs, saying no redneck deputy could take him to jail, and he was gonna call his lawyers, and if those reporters wanted a show, they better come to the sheriff’s office to see it.
The reporters went, all right. Harve, O.C., and the rest of us got trapped in the traffic trying to get out of the fairgrounds. Those newspeople drive like they’re on an episode of
NASCAR
.
By the time we got back to my house, the
American Megastar
crew was crashed in the living room. Amanda-Lee and Carter were nowhere to be found, and Amber was in the kitchen all alone, wearing a sad look. She was fixing some leftover roast and sliced bread on a tray for the crew to eat. When I walked in, she sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist.
“Well, land sakes, sugar,” I said, putting my things on the counter. “You ought to be happy as a fly in fresh butter right now. How come you look like your dog just died?”
Amber’s shoulders trembled up and down. “I messed up. I always mess up. I’m so stupid. I always open my big mouth at the exact wrong time.” The last word shuddered like the end of a sad song. She stabbed a knife into the pickle jar, pulled out a pickle, and started after it like she wanted to cut it to bits.
I was afraid she’d chop her finger off, so I took the knife away. “There now, hon, don’t take it out on that helpless pickle. Tell Mrs. Doll what’s wrong.”
“I screw everything up,” she blurted with a little hiccup and a sob.
I rubbed her back, and we stood side by side at the meat tray. “Now, that’s not true. No way that’s true. You couldn’ta done better at the rodeo arena. It was a sight to behold. It’s too bad Justin Shay had to go crazy and run around in his unmentionables like that. Is he smokin’ some kind of drugs or something?”
Sniffing, Amber shook her head. “Huh-uh. Justin did that for me so we could get out of there without all the reporters following us.”
“Well, I’ll be dogged.”
Time to repent. Lord, in the future, I’ll not be so quick to think the worst of people
. I’d jumped to the complete wrong conclusion about Justin Shay.
Amber sighed and wiped her eyes again. “Butch says it’s no big deal—with the lawyers Justin has, he’ll be out by tonight.”
“Well then, what are you worried about? He did a nice thing for you—almost like one of them movie heroes he plays. I bet it made him feel real good to do that, don’t you figure? He maybe didn’t know he had it in him to put someone else ahead of himself. You know that down at the jail, Forrest and Buddy Ray will treat him real good.” My pep talk didn’t seem to be cheering Amber up one little bit. “Buddy Ray’s probably in hog heaven, having all those reporters see him make an arrest. Heck, he might even make
The National Examiner
or the
Austin Statesman
. Who knows?”
That won a little smile from Amber, but it didn’t last long.
“What’s really the matter, hon?”
Groaning under her breath, she walked to the hallway door and peeked through to make sure no one was there. “Ms. Florentino’s really mad and it’s my fault. I didn’t mean for it to happen . . . I didn’t know her and Butch were back. I thought they were farther behind us, but she came around from the front of the house and she heard me talking to Mr. Woods. She told him off right there in the yard and then she got in one of the vans and took off out of here. He borrowed Butch’s keys and went after her, but it won’t do any good. I’ve only seen Ms. Florentino that mad once before, and it wasn’t pretty.”
I had to think for a minute to get all that news into a column. “Who’s Mr. Woods?”
She pointed through the window toward the horse rig. “The guy who drove the truck and trailer for us—Mr. Woods.”
“You mean Carter?” I said, still trying to get things in a row. Sometimes, talking to Amber was like herding cats. “Honey, what in the world would you have said to get Carter and Amanda-Lee in a fight? The two of them seemed to be getting along awful good—
real
good, if you know what I mean.”
Amber threw up her hands and let them slap back against her thighs. “That’s what makes me feel so bad. Ms. Florentino’s always all uptight and stressed out. I mean, I like her and all, but some people, you know, just don’t seem happy. Then, today when we were having lunch and stuff, she seemed really happy. When Mr. Woods brought the horse trailer out of the barn for us to go, I could see why. I thought, dadgum, no wonder Ms. Florentino’s in such a good mood, since she gets to ride up front with a guy who looks like that. And you know, I thought I knew his face from somewhere, but I couldn’t place where. I didn’t know he was J. C. Woods until Butch whispered it in my ear at the rodeo arena.” She held out her hands like she was pleading for me to believe her, which wasn’t a problem, being as I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Whoa, there. We’re gonna have to back up a little bit, sugar. Who’s J. C. Woods?” That name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“J. C. Woods, from the Country Network?” Amber’s voice tilted upward, like she couldn’t believe I didn’t know the name right away. “He hosts the ‘Mason County Line’ show, where they have all the big time singers and songwriters on and stuff—I mean, he doesn’t anymore, but it’s still in reruns sometimes, except on the show he has longer hair, and a goatee.”
I scratched my head. “Carter’s a TV star?” At my house, I only got regular channels, but I was surprised Donetta hadn’t picked up on it, since she watched cable TV all the time. I hadn’t pictured Carter as a TV star. Even though he was sure good-looking enough for it, he seemed like a pretty normal young man. Nothing like that Justin Shay, who I guess wasn’t all bad, either, come to find out.
“Yeah,” Amber went on. “He’s a songwriter and stuff. I sang one of his songs on
American Megastar
a while back. I wanted to do another one—this song about little boys with toy sailboats, but Ms. Uberstach wouldn’t let me. Ms. Florentino liked it, though.”
“Well, it seems like that’d give the two of them even more in common—Carter and Amanda-Lee, I mean. I can’t figure why they’d have any reason to fight about something like that.” What girl wouldn’t want to be romanced by a country music TV star with a poetic nature?
Amber’s eyes flicked to one side, and her lips tilted downward. “Except she didn’t know who he was, and he didn’t tell her, and he probably didn’t tell her because I’ve been trying to meet with him about recording for his music company, Higher Ground.” Looping her arms over her chest, she darted another look my way, then fidgeted from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t trying to do anything underhanded, Mrs. Doll, and I didn’t mean it against
American Megastar
, or Ms. Florentino. It’s just that . . . well . . . I guess I could have waited to contact J. C. Woods until I was actually off
American Megastar
, but once you’re off, you’re not news, you know? It seemed smart to do it now, so when I found out I was coming home this weekend, I set it up to meet him here in Daily. I been trying to call him ever since yesterday, and he didn’t answer his cell phone, so I figured maybe he wasn’t interested after all, and I was kind of downhearted about it. Then, when I found out he was actually here—I mean
right
here—I went a little nuts and blabbed the whole thing right where Ms. Florentino could hear.” She stopped to take a breath and stood there twisting and untwisting her arms like a little girl confessing in the principal’s office. “I really screwed it up bad. Now probably both of them will hate me, and I’ll get kicked off
American Megastar
, and I’ll be back here working at the feed store. I’ll just be stupid little Amber Anderson again.”
She started to cry, and I opened my arms and took her in. “Ssshhh, now, there’s nothing stupid about you, Amber. You’re a good girl. You didn’t have a way in the world of knowing this would happen. It was a smart thing, you trying to make use of your opportunities and look to the future.”
“I really wanted . . . I wanted Andy to have money for college, and . . .” She gulped down the rest of the sentence in a sob, and I felt my shoulder getting wet. “And I wanted . . . I wanted to make a place for kids who don’t have anybody, and I wanted . . . I wanted . . .” She choked on the words again, and I smoothed my hands over her hair, patting like I would have when my boys skinned a knee or had a fight with a bully at school.
“Hush, now. There’s a good girl.” Laying my hands on her shoulders, I pulled her back so I could look her in the eye. “You got to remember that when things are out of our hands, that doesn’t mean they’re not in God’s. I’ve got it written right there on my refrigerator, see? On that football magnet there by the ice dispenser? One of my sons put that on the coffin at Jack’s funeral. It says
God’s ball
on it because Jack told that to our oldest when Tim had his heart broke over not getting a football scholarship years ago. Jack sat him down and explained how sometimes in life you carry the ball, sometimes you just run along, and sometimes you’re flat on your back, but just because
you
don’t have the ball don’t mean it’s not moving toward the goal. There’s a whole team of men and angels at work in every life.”
Amber looked at the football and nodded like she could see Jack’s point. I turned her loose and grabbed a napkin from the table. “Here now, you wipe your eyes. One way or another, we’ll make this turn out.”
The phone rang and I grabbed it, knowing it would be Donetta, because I’d just been thinking of calling her to help me straighten out this mess. Whenever I’m about to call Donetta, she calls me first.
She didn’t even say hello, just, “Imagene, what in the world’s going on? First, you let Amber make her big surprise appearance at the fair before your best friend can get out there, and then I find out that Justin Shay’s been arrested for riding a bull naked at the rodeo, and you don’t bother to call and tell me that?”
“No one was naked on a bull, DeDe.” One thing about a Daily story, no matter how fantastic it is to start with, it’ll be even better by the time it gets around town. “He ran around the arena in red silky boxers, that’s all. Kind of like them things pro wrestlers wear. He wasn’t naked.”
“Even so—” Donetta clicked her tongue to let me know she still had a knot in her tail—“you coulda called. I had to hear it from Betty Prine, of all people. She come by here with her feathers up because she knew the gossip and I didn’t. How do you think that made me feel?”
“I’m sorry, Netta, I—”
“I wouldn’t leave
you
out of somethin’ newsworthy, Imagene Doll. Like just now, I got Amanda-Lee and Carter about to tear each other up in the back alley, and what am I doin’? I’m callin’ you.”
“Good gracious,” I said, stretching the phone cord around the corner into the pantry and cupping my hand over the receiver. “What are they saying?”
Donetta smacked her lips to let me know she was double disgusted. “Well, if I knew, I probably wouldn’t tell somebody that doesn’t bother to call me, would I?”
“Donetta.” Sometimes I wanted to beg forgiveness from Donetta and pull her hair all at the same time. “We been in the middle of a top secret operation all afternoon.”
