You and Only You (17 page)

“Blood was spurting everywhere as Patty June proceeded to shave off a strip of hair right down the middle of Bobbette’s head wide enough to park a car on. Symbolically speaking, of course.” Then she giggled. “No disrespect meant to your red hair, Honey. It’s… eye-catching.”

Both Carol and Grace were in shock. “The preacher was having an affair with Bobbette? I assume he got fired.”

“And then some,” Mike said, and tried to steer the conversation to another topic. “Speaking of red, I heard Santa Claus is going to make a surprise appearance in Blessings on December first to launch the holiday season. I think that was Sue Beamon’s brainchild. Ever since she wound up on the Chamber of Commerce she’s been full of ideas.”

But the women weren’t done with the preacher’s affair and ignored Mike’s attempt to change the conversation.

“So what happened to Bobbette?” Grace asked.

Lily put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “She picked up those clippers and finished shaving herself bald because she said it all needed to match, wrapped a towel around her head, stuffed another one under her bloody nose, and called her mama. You know how it is. You can act like a slut all over the place, but when you’re down and out, there’s only one person you trust to have your back, and that’s your mama.”

Carol shook her head in disbelief. “Good Lord! Being close to our grandchildren is why we moved to Denver, but I’m thinking we’re missing out on a whole lot of life by not living here in Blessings.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” LilyAnn said, fixing Mike and Honey with a sweet-as-sugar smile. “I’m sure Mike will furnish you with some more grandchildren soon enough.”

Honey looked a little nonplussed, and Mike was speechless.

At that point, LilyAnn stood up from the table.

“Dessert, anyone? And y’all better not tell me no. I have pecan pie and pumpkin pie with whipped cream. If you’ll pass your plates to me, I’ll carry them out.”

“I’ll help,” Grace said.

“And me,” Carol added.

LilyAnn beamed. “Isn’t this fun? I think this just might be my best Thanksgiving ever.”

And with that, she set sail from the room with a toss of her head and her hips swaying. As her granny used to say, it felt good to be pissed now and then. It set the juices to flowing.

Chapter 11

Don Dalton leaned back with a groan, patting his belly.

“You outdid yourself, LilyAnn. That food could not have been better.”

“I second that,” Eddie said.

Lily smiled, accepting the praise as her due.

“Not only was the food delicious, but I am grateful for being invited to share it,” Honey said, and leaned against Mike in a suggestive manner. “Thank you for bringing me, Mikey.”

Mike slid an arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug.

“You’re welcome on so many levels,” he said softly.

Honey giggled.

LilyAnn stood up so fast the dishes rattled on the table.

“Please feel free to take your coffee into the living room. I know you men are ready to settle in for some football.”

“I like football, too,” Honey said, and snuggled under Mike’s shoulder.

The woman was getting on LilyAnn’s last nerve. “And that’s fine, too,” she muttered.

Grace and Carol were already stacking dishes.

“You did all the cooking, Lilybug. We’re cleaning up. Why don’t you go put your feet up for a bit?” Grace said.

Lily didn’t hesitate. “Thanks, Mama. I believe I’ll take a little walk around the block. I need to walk off some of my dinner and get a breath of fresh air.”

She grabbed a coat out of the hall closet and the last bottle of hard lemonade from the wet bar and headed for the front door.

Mike didn’t notice she was leaving until the door was already open.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.

She took a swig of the hard lemonade and shut the door behind her without answering.

Mike got up and walked to the window.

“She’ll be fine,” Grace said.

“I was just checking to see which direction she went,” he said.

Grace sighed. “Ah. You mean you were looking to see if she went to the cemetery.”

He shrugged.

“I think that’s in the past, Mike. Don’t worry about her.”

“Right. No worries,” he said, and sat back down.

* * *

LilyAnn took a deep breath of the cool November air, then a drink of the hard lemonade. Both were cleansing and calming. Even though she had intended to walk toward the park, she turned the corner at the block instead and headed toward Blessings High School. It was an unconscious choice, but to a familiar destination.

There was a trio of boys tossing a football in the front yard of a house as she passed. They saw her and waved.

She waved back and kept walking, sipping her drink as the chilly breeze continued to play havoc with her hair.

As she approached the local Catholic church, she saw Father Benton wrestling with the manger to the church’s outdoor Nativity scene. She smiled and waved.

He waved back.

For the kids in Blessings, the appearance of the Nativity scene at the church seemed to signify the beginning of the holiday season. And, every year before the season was over, someone always absconded with the Baby Jesus, then brought it back under cover of darkness the next night dressed in something besides the swaddling clothes.

One year it came back dressed in long johns and wearing earmuffs. Another year someone put it in a baby onesie with the insignia of the local football mascot on it. Another year, a tiara, and the list went on.

In the beginning, that had horrified the devout and sent shockwaves through the religious communities. But, over the years, passions had cooled and, to their knowledge, no one had yet gone to hell for the act. Now it was just part of tradition in Blessings: wondering what Baby Jesus would come back wearing next.

“Hey, Father Benton. Are you going to put up a security camera this year?” she called out.

The old priest smiled and shook his head. “No. I think Baby Jesus can take care of Himself. Every year I am reminded that walking on church property to dress up the infant might be the closest the prankster will ever come to God, so we don’t want to ruin the start of a good thing, now, do we?”

“Good point,” LilyAnn said. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“And to you, my child,” he said.

Lily lengthened her stride as she approached the high school. She finished off her drink and tossed the bottle into a trash can on her way past. The school building looked different, smaller. She wondered if all the alumni felt that way after a few years had gone by.

She glanced at her watch, noting it was almost 3:00 p.m. Mike would probably be leaving to take his “honey bear” home about now, which was fine with Lily. She’d had all of the red hair and cheesy smiles she could stomach for one day. It was rude not to be there to see them off, but she didn’t care. She’d used up all of her manners and restraint, and it was best for all concerned if she stayed out until they were gone. Besides, her mom and Eddie were there. They could play nice in her place.

She kept on walking, slowly angling her way back home, and was less than five blocks from her house when she heard the sound of a hot-rod engine on the street behind her. Her heart skipped a beat. There was no reason to assume the man would even notice her, but for whatever reason she felt uneasy. She ducked her head into the wind and walked faster.

And then he racked the pipes and she almost jumped out of her skin.

* * *

T. J. had turkey and dressing at Granny’s Kitchen, played poker in the back room of the Eight Ball with the Wilder brothers, and had struck out all the way around when it came to taking a bed partner home for the night.

Both of the waitresses he’d expected to see were off duty, and after driving by the Goodhope Bed-and-Breakfast and seeing the parking lot full of cars, he’d completely given up on the idea of contacting Rachel. He could always jack off, but he liked it better with a partner.

He was bored and cruising neighborhoods, because that’s what predators did, when he saw a tall, blond woman striding down the sidewalk a distance ahead.

Both the build and the stride were familiar, but it took him a few moments to place her as the woman from the pharmacy, the one who had ignored him.

“Bingo!” he said softly, and racked the pipes on his truck, which he liked to think of as his mechanical wolf whistle.

He knew she heard him, but when she didn’t break stride or look back, he frowned and did it again.

“Hey, blondie! I’m talking to you,” he muttered.

When she still didn’t stop, he rethought his options, tapped the brakes on his truck to slow down, then followed a half block behind her for the next three blocks, just to see what she would do next.

* * *

The dishes were done, the kitchen had been put back to rights, and the old friends were back in the living room.

Mike had already taken Honey home and returned, expecting to face LilyAnn and her bad attitude, only she wasn’t home. It made him uneasy, but he seemed to be the only one concerned. When he mentioned her absence, both women pooh-poohed the notion and that was that.

He watched the clock as time continued to pass, and when he heard a driver out in the street suddenly rack the pipes on a hot rod, he frowned. That sounded like the truck Gene Bissell’s nephew was driving around. He glanced up, expecting to see it go past the window at any moment. But it didn’t. When the pipes rattled again, he got up and moved to the window.

At that point, his heart sank. It was Gene Bissell’s nephew all right, but he was following LilyAnn in an obvious attempt to get her attention. The only positive in the whole blessed scene was that LilyAnn seemed to be ignoring him.

Then he saw her suddenly break stride and bolt across her neighbor’s yard and into hers. There was a moment when their gazes connected. He saw her frown at him and realized it probably appeared like he was spying on her. But before he could react, the driver sped past to cut her off and she quickly spun around.

Shocked by the abruptness of the move, he headed for the door. But by the time he got it open, LilyAnn was standing in the yard with her feet planted and a hand on her hip. It was high school revisited, and the nightmare of Randy Joe had just come back to haunt him all over again.

Rage, coupled with defeat, washed over him. He stepped back and slammed the door so hard the windows rattled.

His mother looked up, frowning.

“Good Lord, Michael, I thought I—”

He walked right past her, through the kitchen, and out the door without looking back. It had been years since he’d gone over the fence between their yards, and it wasn’t the smartest thing to do considering the remaining restrictions from his surgery, but he wasn’t in a sane frame of mind.

He vaulted the fence and went in through the kitchen door, slamming it just as hard. This was it. He was done. It was time to face the fact that she didn’t have a single brain in her head when it came to picking men.

* * *

LilyAnn was not happy. She’d wanted to look better to garner male attention, but not like this. The man didn’t even know who she was, and yet he was following her in a very threatening manner, like a wolf on the prowl. It bordered on stalking, which made her realize that anything she’d ever thought about entertaining his advances had been based on fantasies, not facts.

She was less than three houses from home and had lengthened her stride to just short of running. And still he followed. When she suddenly cut across her next-door neighbor’s yard to get to her porch, he raced past her and then parked at an angle against the curb. Before she knew it, he was out of the truck and waving her down.

“Hey! Hey, honey! Do you have a minute?”

She caught a glimpse of Mike’s face in the window: disapproving, even judging her. It pissed her off to no end. At that point, her good sense went into the house on its own and left LilyAnn standing out in the yard.

She turned on one heel to face her stalker instead of ignoring him and, as she did, heard her front door open, but she was so focused on taking the pervert down that it never occurred to her what Mike would do.

Suddenly, the door slammed behind her so hard that she expected to hear glass break. She turned to look, but the door was still on its hinges and the windows were whole. Her heart was pounding; her head felt like it was going to explode. She shouldn’t have downed that last bottle of hard lemonade, and she shouldn’t have stopped in the yard. Her mama had warned her not to talk to strangers. And this one was still talking.

“Hey, honey. Can we talk?”

She sighed. Why did she ever think she wanted to get a man’s attention? They were nothing but trouble. All of a sudden she heard another door slam and realized it was the back door at Mike’s house. Her eyes widened. He’d gone over the fence just so he wouldn’t have to look at her again? What had she done that was so wrong? He showed up with a girlfriend out of the blue, and that was okay, but this wasn’t?

Angry with men in general, she lit into Lachlan.

“Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing?”

T. J. blinked. “Uh, I’m T. J. Lachlan, Gene Bissell’s nephew, and I was just trying to say hello.”

“Well, I didn’t know that. I don’t know you. From my standpoint, a stranger was following me and just so you know…it felt like I was being stalked. You need to get in your truck and go away now because whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

Now T. J. was pissed. Women didn’t talk to him like this. Ever.

“Look, lady, I was just—”

“Whatever your intent, it missed. You scared me, and I’m not interested. Go away.”

He took off his hat and flashed a grin.

“I’m sorry I frightened you. Can we start over?”

“No,” Lily said. “I’ve already told you to leave, and you’re still standing in my yard. I’ve got a lot of family in the house behind me. Do I need to get someone to come show you the way out of town?”

“You don’t need to do anything, bitch,” T. J. snapped. “I was just trying to be friendly.”