“Why would you do that?” Anna Rose asked.
“I wanted to fit in and for those girls to like me, but they were just using me to dodge blame for what they did. They’d better take a step back if they think I’m the same person I was then,” Taryn answered and realized how cold and bitter her tone was.
“I didn’t give a damn if anyone liked me or not, and still don’t,” Anna Rose said. “Think Mallory will come back and tell us to stay away from Clinton like Elaine did?”
“At least she’s not wearing high heels, and she doesn’t have enough room in those skintight jeans to hide a pistol, so we might come out with just a black eye if push comes to shove,” Taryn answered.
“Honey, if she lights into one of us, you can bet your butt that she’ll come out with worse than a little bruising around her eyes.” Anna Rose stood, picked up the empty pizza box, and put it in the trash bin at the end of the porch. “I’m going inside. You and Goldie can deal with Mallory if she wants to stake her claim.”
“Goldie?” Taryn asked.
Anna Rose crossed the porch. “That’s what I’m naming the cat. I’m going to take pictures of her with the sunrise behind her and maybe some against the old, faded trailer house. I can already see that last shot in my mind.”
Chapter Three
Clinton couldn’t remember the name of the artist or even the title of the song he was humming when he made it to the shop the next morning, but he remembered one line: something about news traveling fast in a small town. The song seemed to be written just for the three cousins. Folks were standing outside on the sidewalk, talking and waiting for someone to open the front door. Was all that chatter about the cousins’ return, he wondered, or about this stupid contest to win his affection? Or were they all here to make last-minute floral orders for Leona’s funeral? He hoped the latter was the issue, because he didn’t like being the center of all the gossip.
“Good morning!” Clinton pushed through the back door with a box in his hands. “I brought a Mexican chicken casserole and a cherry pie for lunch today. We’ve got some of those little containers of vanilla ice cream in the freezer to go on the pie, and we can heat up the casserole in the oven.”
“You cook?” Taryn asked.
“Yes, I do, but I didn’t make this stuff.” Clinton busied himself by putting the casserole in the refrigerator and then making a pot of coffee. Women bringing so much food to his house was embarrassing, but at least it cut down on the grocery bill. The cousins didn’t need to know the real reason behind all the silliness going on in Shamrock. “Some of the ladies in town have started feeling sorry for me the past few months,and so they bring me food. I’ve been sharing with Irene and Ruby, but I won’t be offended if y’all would rather grab some fast food.”
Taryn shook her head. “Not me. I’ll be glad to share anytime you bring it to us—but I heard that the women weren’t just ‘feeling sorry’ for you.”
Anna Rose covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “I heard the same thing. Have you decided which one is going to win? What’s the criteria? Does she have to wear tight jeans or make a mean pie?”
The last cousin, Jorja, rushed into the shop, hurried to the front, and put her purse under the counter, then returned, breathless, to the back room. “Sorry I’m late. It took longer to do my prayers this morning than usual. I had to pray for extra strength, patience, and love to fill my heart.” She cut her eyes around at Anna Rose. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Did you sneak out to the bars last night?”
“I don’t sneak around. If I do it, I own it,” she snapped.
“Clinton brought food for lunch. And, Jorja, Anna Rose is a big girl. She can go wherever she wants without either of us getting into her business if she shows up for work on time,” Taryn answered.
Anna Rose pointed at the clock. “At least I’m on time, and I don’t blame God and Jesus for being late. I smell coffee.”
Jorja muttered all the way through the shop as she went to open the front door. In seconds, the place was full of folks milling around, looking at plants, crosses to hang on their walls or set on a shelf, and other gift items suitable for funerals or birthdays.
Clinton glanced over at Taryn, who shrugged, poured herself a cup of coffee, took a sip, and set it to the side. “Nana Irene thinks we’ll all learn to be friends. I’m not sure that even her prayers and Jorja’s combined can make that happen.”
“You never know. Irene and Ruby both might have a hotline to heaven,” Clinton said with a chuckle.
“Maybe so, but I won’t hold my breath,” she said and went to the front to help wait on customers.
The conversations in the front of the shop all mingled together, but Clinton could easily make out Taryn’s husky voice. It reminded him of good whiskey, with a bit of honey thrown in to sweeten the fire.
“Good morning, everyone. Who can I help?” she asked.
“That would be me,” a feminine-sounding voice answered.
“Well, hello there, Mrs.Sullivan. How is Kaitlin doing these days?”
Clinton slid off his barstool and took a few steps toward the archway leading from one room to the other so he could hear better. Linda Sullivan had a reputation for being a gossip, and he didn’t want to miss a word that she had to say to Taryn.
“I didn’t come in here to buy a flower or a present,” Linda said, so low that Clinton had to strain to hear her words. “I came to tell you to stay away from Kaitlin and her family. She’s married to Ford Chambers and has two little children. She and Ford help out with the youth at our church, and I don’t want you comin’ around them.”
Clinton peeked around the corner in time to see Linda whip around to face Jorja, now with a sunny smile on her face. “Kaitlin and Ford are bringing the kids and coming to my house for dinner after church on Sunday. We’d be glad to have you join us at our place of worship, and maybe while you are here, you could help her teach the kindergarten class.”
“Thanks for asking, but I’ve already got plans for after church on Sunday,” Jorja said.
