“That’s right, Ben.” Mama nods at me and then gives my father a hard look.
Daddy throws up his hands in surrender at Mama. “I’m not arguing, Courtney.” He turns to me with a frown. “All I’m saying is the bar’s not doing well, baby. Not that anybody blames you. Far from it. But we need a punch to bring in extra revenue.”
I clench my jaw. “I’m well aware of The Cowherd’s financial issues. But short of that mythical ghost down the hall going free by this July fourth”—I nod my head in the direction of the jail cell peeking out through the open doorway of the liquor room—“no gimmick is going to be big enough to bring The Cowherd into financial heaven.”
“Your mama’s idea matches perfectly with the Independence Day deadline,” Daddy says. “Tell her more, baby.”
Baby?I look at Ginny and lift my shoulder in a shrug.
All those indiscretions behind Mama’s back over the years, and she still just takes my father back again and again. I don’t care if he doesn’t always cheat and that he only does it when he’s drunk. The point is, he’s done it. And he’s done it more than once.
This is exactly why it’s safer to stay single. If you don’t give your heart away, it can’t be broken.
Mama raises her big blue eyes from the diary and smiles broadly. “I said to your daddy, ‘let’s pick the soul mate couple ourselves!’ We’ll market the wedding and invite reporters from out of town. This banner is just the first step. The soul mates’ wedding will be a huge event!”
“But it will be a lie!” I tug hard at my wavy hair, my age-old habit of trying to straighten what cannot be straightened. “We have no idea who the soul mates are or if they even exist. We can’t just make up crap like that.”
“How do you know it’s a lie?” Mama frowns at my hand tangled in my hair. “Oh, Macey, please don’t play with your hair. The waviness just gets frizzy when you touch it like that. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the soul mates. According to the legend, if the couple doesn’t marry by July fourth, the spell is permanent, and Jane’s ghost is forever trapped. I know God wouldn’t want for that to happen to such a talented author. So, God will make sure the soul mates marry at last. We’re just getting a head start on marketing. All we need to do is locate our real-life Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet—a romantic, crazy-in-love couple who would make Jane Austen proud.”
“I don’t like this plan.” I rest my head on my hand. “But I think I’m going to be outnumbered.”
“Macey, who’s on the calendar between now and July fourth?” Daddy asks me.
I don’t want to tell him only one couple, so I say, “Ginny and Dave are marrying here. They’re a very marketable pair.”
Silence.
Daddy looks closely at Ginny, and his smile slips. Mama’s gaze drifts into space like she’s remembering Dave, or maybe how she felt as a knocked-up bride having a shotgun wedding with a drunk philanderer.
“It’s okay.” Ginny puts her hands protectively over her barely-showing belly. “I wouldn’t pick me either.”
Before I can defend her, Evan turns to me. “What about you, Macey? You’d make a great Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Don’t encourage them, Evan!” I say in warning. “I already fake married once for the sake of the family business. That was enough. I’m never getting legally married.” At the four sets of raised eyebrows, I add, “Again.”
“You’re a secret romantic,” Daddy teases me.
“Maybe in theory that’s true,” I say. “But you’re trying to mix fantasy with real life. It doesn’t work. We’re all aware that no Darcy and Elizabeth are out there to save Jane Austen’s ghost—you know why? Because the ghost legend is just that—fiction. A romantic tale that’s sweet but not real.”
“Vivian’s diary is as real as you or I are.” Mama picks up the age-old book and waves it at all four of us. “The witch who cast the spell on Jane’s ghost had several stipulations for the couple who would break the curse. And Vivian scatters those stipulations throughout her writings—the hero must have cowboy roots and the heroine a drop of British blood. Those are just two of the requirements—fascinating stuff.” Mama leans forward to whisper into my ear. “Mace, remember your scar. Youneedthe soul mates to be discovered, baby. More than anyone else in this town, your future is linked to poor Jane’s ghost going free.”
“Mama.” I glare at her and step back. “Another time, okay?”
Daddy mercifully asks Mama if she wants a ride home, and she accepts with a giggle.
“Leave your hair alone, and you tell your sister to call me!” Mama calls back to me as she exits.
