Cliff is my second dad. Nothing would make my soul happier than to see him find Jesus—and what better time than the Christmas season?
“That’s…awesome, man. Can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Look, if you ever want to talk about anything, you know, or advice on finding a church or—”
He waves me off with a single flip of his palm. “Hold your tractors there, kid. I’ll let you know when I need your advice—and I’ll tell you right now, that’s going to be the far side of never.”
I laugh. This is the Cliff I know and love like a father—or like my own crusty uncle. “Got it. Lips are sealed.”
He grunts, his grumbly response so familiar, but he cuts it short and laser focuses on me. “Now. On the subject of sealed lips, don’t clam up with this woman, Herd. I mean it. You’re being an idiot, and it’s going to come back and bite you. Listen to this old guy: I know a fraud when I meet one, and I knew all I needed to ’bout both that college girl and Becca within five minutes. Everly isn’t like them.”
I scowl. “Had ’em pegged, did you? Nice of you to have shared that info.”
He stands and mashes the white hard hat over his warped hair. “Shoot, kid. Don’t pretend you’d’ve listened.”
Chapter 24
Everly
I’m not a pie in the sky person, but after a weekend I’ll never forget, I genuinely expected to spend the week texting messages signed with cute little emojis back and forth with Knox. In the evenings, I imagined he’d stop in for dinner. Maybe wait around for me to close up so we could spend time together. Trade some more kisses.
Silly me. In place of my expectations, I’ve got a way too quiet phone and haven’t seen the man once. Did I say the wrong thing? Do something I didn’t realize?
Am I a bad kisser? I was a bit rusty before Saturday, but it felt like things fell into a groove quite nicely.
I frown at the decked-out evergreen by the checkout counter. Knox’s tree. The points on the starry topper feel like barbs into my soul. Lance pursued me and then ran once he got to know me better. Ethan…
Well, Ethan was a fraud and I’m well rid of him, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt finding out I’d been toyed with.
“Hey, sugar. You got man troubles?”
I spin out of my trance. Marlene watches me as she places a new filter into the coffee maker. “That’s a giant assumption.”
She closes the lid on the machine and shrugs, but with a knowing look in her spidery-lashed eyes. “When it comes to man trouble, I know the signs.” She flips the switch to brew and invades my space, as she tends to do when she’s in gossip mode. “Something go wrong with Knox, hon?”
I look around the sparsely filled dining room. We’re in that fleeting lull that happens as the breakfast hour settles but before the lunch rush throttles us for three hours straight. The Christmastime satellite radio station I managed to stream through Uncle Charlie’s antiquated sound system blares overly peppy holiday music through the overhead speakers.
“You know they been real busy at that jobsite, right?”
“I know. Knox has texted that a couple times, but—”Rats.“You know what? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. I’ve gotten a few boring messages about being busy but otherwise haven’t heard from him, and after Saturday night…”
Marlene shimmies and sidles closer, balling her fists in front of her ample chest in suspense. “The night in the motel? Do tell, sugar. Marlene wants details!”
No joke. She hounded me all day Monday, although I think mostly for her personal entertainment purposes. She's known me for too long to doubt my account of the night.
I strut away. “When—if—there’s anything new to report, you’ll be the first to know.” Or not.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
All I know is there’s a knot the size of Texas in the pit of my stomach. I let down my guard with Knox. I gotreal.
I take another couple steps, then spin around. “Cliff has been in, and you’ve seen him every night.”
She drops back, gnawing her lip. If she’s not careful, she’s going to smear the bold red paint. “Well now, hon. Cliff ain’t the boss. Knox has got a lot more on his plate.”
Maybe. But I can see in her eyes she’s not convinced either. And that means something, because goodness only knows if Marlene is an expert on anything, it’s failed relationships. Not being unkind. She says so herself.
So far, Knox has reached out only enough to keep me on a string.
But Wednesday evening, right as I’m about to turn off the lamp and overthink everything, my phone dings.
