“All aboard!” Clayton called as Jamie and Ruth carried their bags onto the bus. He glanced at Jamie’s two carry-on bags and grinned. “Two bags. I’m impressed.”
She laughed and dropped her luggage on the couch. “I have five suitcases stowed in the luggage bay,” she replied, then paused as she noticed something different. Clayton’s beard was now gone.
“You shaved,” she observed.
He ran a hand over his smooth face and replied, “Always shave in the summer—it’s cooler.”
Though he looked refreshed, she couldn’t help but admit she preferred him with a beard.
Clayton opened the fridge to reveal Tupperware stacked with labels on the sides that readchicken pot pie, jambalaya, chili, shrimp &grits, and cornbread.“Momma’s been cooking for two days straight.”
“That woman’s a saint,” Jamie said. She picked up her bags and walked toward the bedroom. “I’m going to study.”
He held a stack of index cards in his hands. “Made new flashcards.”
“Okay.” She turned around and nodded. “I’m going to drop off my stuff and I’ll be right back.”
She threw her bags on the bed and noticed a picture frame on the nightstand. Leaning over she picked it up—a snapshot of the twins laughing while holding Poppy. She kissed the photo and placed it back.My girls.Then she corrected herself: the twins weren’t hers. They belonged to Tammy, whose absence had left a gap.
Stepping into the bathroom, she flicked on the light and paused. The room was stocked with her products—full-size bottles of face cleanser, moisturizer, eye serum, and sunscreen. “What the hell?” she murmured. Opening the shower door she found her brand of shampoo and conditioner neatly arranged on the ledge. She hadn’t recalled giving Buddy a list—perhaps Ruth had anticipated her needs and done some pre-emptive shopping.
Staring in the mirror, she noticed her skin looked more youthful and her eyes less puffy. Since her Vegas trip she hadn’t consumed a drop of alcohol, and the benefits were showing. Realizing even one drink the night before would disrupt her studying she’d quit cold turkey, with Clayton joining her in the commitment. In fact, they’d been so drunk in Vegas she even forgot to pick up their gift baskets—her sole reason for going.
She retrieved her study books from her bag and made her way to the front lounge. “Did you put toiletries in the bathroom?” she asked Ruth.
Without looking up from her phone, Ruth replied, “No. James, we’ve got another problem.”
As the bus pulled away, new drama unfolded. “What is it?” Jamie asked.
“Memphis Girl is back at it,” Ruth said, turning her phone around. “This email says you’re dead if you go on tour with Clayton.”
Clayton stepped closer to the assistant. “Who’s Memphis Girl?”
“The person who’s been threatening her,” came her quick reply.
Pausing and rubbing his elbow, Clayton remarked, “Tammy’s from Memphis.”
Ruth’s eyes widened. “Do you think it’s her?”
“Don’t know,” Clayton admitted, a trace of worry in his voice. “It’s possible.”
“You haven’t heard from her in months,” Jamie reminded him.
“I’m going to call Shorty and let him know,” Ruth said. “Do you mind if I use the bedroom?”
“Be my guest,” Jamie replied, settling onto the couch and opening her books as her assistant stepped off to call her manager.
Clayton sat beside her. “Are you worried?”
“I’m more concerned about passing the language part of my exam than some stalker,” Jamie said.
He grabbed the flashcards from the table and said, “Let’s start with language arts.”
For the next hour she worked through his questions, getting most of them right but still falling short of perfection. Each mistake felt like a personal failure, a reminder that if she’d read more as a child or stayed in school through her senior year this embarrassment might have been avoided.
Ruth emerged from the bedroom and pulled aside the curtain of her bunk. A few balloons floated out. She snatched one, frowning. “What the heck?”
Jamie and Clayton turned.
