“And I’ll pass out really nice tissues at the door,” Anna Rose chimed in. “The kind that comes in pretty little individual packages.”
“I’m not talking to either of you,” Jorja declared, “and I’m telling Nana Irene that you’ve both been ugly.”
“We can’t tattle until we close up on Saturday and go to Ruby’s to eat lunch with the two of them,” Anna Rose reminded her.
“But if you want to get hurt bad enough to go to the emergency room, I expect Nana Irene will come see you, and you can tattle then,” Taryn said.
Jorja whipped around and gave them a look that was probably meant to fry them on the spot. “You’ve both tested the Jesus in me really hard today. Right now, I could probably put both of you in the ER and get away with it on Judgment Day after the way y’all have been talking.”
“Then Nana Irene would just make you take care of us and run the shop without us,” Anna Rose teased.
“We’ll be good if you’ll tell us what made you shiver when you were talking about something that happened in your past,” Taryn said. “I thought you were born with wings and a halo, so what has happened to you that wasn’t so holy and sanctified in your past? Did you get really drunk on your graduation night, or did something else happen?”
“That would be need-to-know, and neither of you do.” Jorja shivered again. “You both ran off to do your own thing when you graduated and left me here in Shamrock alone, so you don’t get to pry into the ugly moments of my past. And because Jesus says that I have to love you, I will pray for your souls tonight.”
“Thank you for that,” Taryn said. “I know that, for myself, I can use all the prayers I can get. Especially in this town, where it seemed to me like I got blamed for everything that happened, even when I could prove I didn’t do it.”
“You did plenty, and so did I,” Anna Rose said.
“And I paid for it,” Jorja grumbled.
“I’m sorry about that ... whatever it was,” Taryn told her with a grimace. “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”
“But then you’d tell Anna Rose, and she would tease me,” Jorja said, almost whining.
“You can talk to both or either of us,” Anna Rose declared. “We might not like each other, but we are cousins.”
“Amen!” Taryn said, and she meant it.
Chapter Four
Jorja had flipped the sign around to let people know they were open, but the bell above the door hadn’t rung all morning. The shelves were dusted and straightened, all the glass had been polished, and now there was nothing to do. She was bored to tears. Maybe if she got out the Christian romance book she’d been reading, they would get a dozen customers. It usually worked that way when she tried to read at home. No more than one page into the story, and the phone would ring.
“Get out a puzzle,” Taryn said to Anna Rose.
“You’re having Clinton withdrawal,” Anna Rose told her.
“I am not,” Taryn protested.
“Yes, you are,” Jorja agreed with Anna Rose. “And for the record, I don’t do puzzles. That seems like a waste of time to me. I’d rather read a book.”
“I’m going out back to set my camera up,” Anna Rose said, and turned to head out of the shop. “Maybe Goldie will be willing to do a photo shoot. Call me if y’all get busy.”
“I didn’t take time for breakfast, so Iwillhave some pumpkin bread and a cup of coffee while we’re waiting on an order or two.” Jorja uncovered the platter holding what was left of the bread. Only a few crumbs of the cookies remained.
“I thought you were trying to lose five pounds,” Taryn said. “I don’t know why, since you are the tallest and thinnest one of us.” She broughtout a knife and cut two thick slices of the bread and then slathered hers with cream cheese.
“When Daddy was a little kid, they called him hyperactive—but now, that is diagnosed as ADHD,” Jorja explained. “I inherited being hyper from him and some of Mama’s OCD, so when I’m not busy, I want to cook or eat or both. And being the tall one in this family is nothing to brag about in the overall picture. Last time I was measured, I was just five feet six inches. That’s not really tall.”
“If you were barely topping out at five three like me and Anna Rose, it would be a lot to boast about,” Taryn said between bites. “We’d love to have your blonde hair and cheekbones. And your skin is flawless—not a single freckle.”
Jorja touched her face with her free hand. “I’d trade complexion and height for a little of your confidence.”
“Honey, confidence is ninety percent bluff,” Taryn said as she cut another piece of the bread.
“What’s the other ten percent?” Jorja asked.
Anna Rose came through the back door. “I heard most of what y’all just said—and, Jorja, that last ten percent is either ego or fear, or a mixture of both.”
