Blake was back in seconds with the batteries, running across to Speedy’s house.
“Okay, that’s taken care of. Now why do you think it’s not okay to think about Speedy?” Clara asked, settling back in her rocker and starting to crochet again. Violet had always wanted to learn how, but her mom had been against anything that didn’t make Violet more desirable to men. Crafts had been frowned upon.
“Umm, well, he’s my boss,” Violet said.
“He is. And that worked out very well for Roam and Sprite,” Clara said.
“What if he doesn’t like me that way? It would make for a very uncomfortable work situation. And, I mean, look at me?” Violet said.
Clara reached over and patted Violet’s arm. “Oh honey, I am. You’re beautiful with that thick dark hair and those brown eyes. And your curves—woo wee, any man would be blessed to have you. And who told you that love was comfortable? Love is messy, uncomfortable, exciting, and unpredictable. Love requires you to take a chance.”
Violet appreciated Clara’s words, but taking a chance scared her. What if she lost the job?
Clara gave her a little time to think.
“What if I lose my job and have to leave Bluff Creek?” Violet asked.
“Why would you think you’d need to leave Bluff Creek if you lost your job?” Clara asked.
“Well, Speedy’s the Road Captain.”
“If you and Speedy tried dating and then decided you weren’t for each other, I imagine everyone would treat you like we didLocks and Stella when they dated but decided they weren’t for each other. We don’t take sides because we love you both.”
“What if he doesn’t like me that way?” Violet asked.
Clara grinned, then snickered. “Oh honey, if you think that, then you’re not watching close enough. How about you just act how you normally would but keep an eye on what Speedy’s watching and how he’s acting? Then we’ll talk.”
Violet nodded. She could do that. She wasn’t sure Clara was right, but she also couldn’t pass up a chance if Speedy did like her.
Chapter Eight
Violet stared at Grant, David, and Deacon, who’d been dropped off after school at the daycare. Violet was clenching her teeth because she’d learned the first time she laughed about the farting—it only encouraged it.
But seeing Deacon have friends with whom he was giggling and smiling was priceless. Well, if there was a price, it was the stench coming from the three little boys’ noxious fumes.
“Oh my gosh, who needs their pants changed?” Locks said, pausing in the doorway. She wouldn’t come into the room either if she had a choice. Maybe they could open a window or two to air out the room.
“Nobody needs their pants changed, Papa Locks. We were having a contest,” Grant said.
“I’m not sure which one of you won but I know all of us adults in here are the losers. At least my sinuses will be cleaned out. It’s strong enough it’s making my eyes water,” Locks said.
“Violet Jones, what the hell did you do? It smells like shit in here,” a voice Violet hoped she’d never hear again said. Violet wanted to tell her to not cuss around the kids, but a lifetime of holding her tongue stole her words.
Locks turned toward the woman, holding up his hand to stop her from entering the room.
“Ma’am, I don’t know who you are, but you are not authorized to be in the daycare and definitely not to talk to one of our people that way. Did you check in with the receptionist up front?” Locks said, blocking Violet and the kids from the woman’s sight.
“Listen, that’s my daughter and I’ll talk however I want. Violet, get your fat ass out here. We need to talk,” her mom said.
Violet wanted to tell her mother to go to hell, but her throat was tight, her face was flushed, and she despised that the kids were hearing this.
A growl and then three little boys pushed her mom’s legs to make her move.
“You leave my Lettie alone, you big meanie,” Deacon said.
“You’re mean. Leave Lettie alone,” Grant yelled.
“You’re a poopy head. You smell worse than our farts. Get out and leave her alone,” David yelled.
