“You can ask.”
“The things people say about the Beaumonts.” I kept my voice even. “The things peoplestopsaying about the Beaumonts. Is it—” I looked for the right word. “Is there a version where it's just gossip?”
Dice ate the cornbread. Considered the question. A little too long if you asked me, but as it appeared in this fish fry —nobodywas askingme.
“Sure,” she said finally. “There's a version where it's just gossip.” She looked at me. “That version's real comfortable.”
She moved off toward the sweet tea before I could decide what to do with that.
Billy arrived at nine, parked the Jaguar sideways and got out, a drink already in hand.
“M.” He spread his arms when he saw me. Kissed my cheek. I smelled rum in his breath — that explained the wide grin.
“Don’t look at the dress,” I told him before he could start staring.
He did anyway. And announced it. “JesusfuckingChrist. Ican’tstop staring at thedress.Does our preacher know you’re wearing this?”
I tried to hide behind my palms, embarrassed — didn’t succeed.
“Evening,” I greeted a passing elderly couple that I had forgotten the names of.
“Oh, loosen up. Nobody woulddare,” he said, leaning in. Billy looked across the field to where Judah was standing with four men, deep in conversation. “He may be a preacher but he has a mean left hook.”
“So I figured. He gave me like four hundred bucks to bail him out if things went south.”
“Even more south than St. Frankenville? Doubtful.” He helped himself to something from the table and fell into step beside me.
“The women have been very informative tonight,” I said.
“Have they.” He was watching Judah across the field.
“Mrs. Tureaud seems to think I have a vocation.”
“You do,” Billy said. “Just maybe not the one she's naming.”
“Billy.”
“I'm just—” He raised a hand. “Observing.”
Across the field, Judah turned. He found me without really trying — like we were two magnets being pulled close to each other by the mere fact of existence. His eyes moved from my face to Billy's hand near my elbow, and something in his jaw made a small decision. He excused himself from the men he'd been talking to.
Billy saw it happen. “Incoming,” he said, and took a long drink, very serene.
Judah came to stand beside me — not between me and Billy, not quite — but close enough that there was no ambiguity about it.
“You abandoned your guests,” Billy said.
“They're not my guests. It's a town event.”
“And yet you ran the whole setup.” Billy gestured at the string lights, the tables, the smokers. “Funny how that works.”
Judah looked at me. “You eating?”
“I have a plate.”
He stared at me.
“I'm going to eat,” I said, slightly exasperated. “I'm standing at a fish fry with a plate of food.”
