“Did you bring laundry soap?” Lottie asked on her way down the short hallway.
“No,” Knox answered. “I didn’t even know we had a laundry on-site. I’d planned to take all my stuff home on the weekends and do it at the Paradise or at my brother’s house.”
“I’ve got enough for tonight, but you better pick up some on your way back down here this weekend. We’ll take turns buying it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you have a particular brand that you like?”
She shook her head. “Anything that doesn’t have fabric softener in it. That stuff makes me break out in hives.”
Knox nodded and piled the towels into one of the two stacked washers and dryers that sat side by side. “Not a bad setup, but aren’t the new cabins plumbed for washing machines?”
“Yes, but in most of Jack’s estates, he has a setup like this installed. If there’s a party or some kind of event, they can do the laundry here instead of taking it back to one of the houses,” she answered. “Putting our things in together seems pretty personal for a fake relationship.”
“Got to keep up appearances,” Knox said.
“Who knew that”—she lowered her voice—“this could be so much trouble?”
Knox kissed her on the forehead and whispered softly, “Be careful what you say. The walls could have ears.”
She nodded and sighed. “You are right. We’ve got thirty minutes. Want to go whip up some supper for me, or wait around long enough to put our things in the dryer?”
“It’s your night to cook,” he teased.
“How do you figure that?”
“I brought leftover pizza last night,” he said with a wide smile.
“Then it’s either bologna or grilled cheese sandwiches and a can of vegetable soup,” she said.
He took her hand in his and led her out of the laundry. “You can have that if you want, but I’m having shrimp scampi over linguine noodles and steamed vegetables. I have a small turtle cheesecake thawing for dessert. I can set a place for you if you want to stay here and finish up the laundry.”
“Is it one of those frozen things that you heat up in the oven or made from scratch?” she asked.
“My mama would come down from heaven and beat me with a wooden spoon if I ever served my girlfriend apremade meal,” he answered. “She didn’t allow those things in our house.”
Lottie pulled out a chair, sat down at one of the tables, and removed a book from her toiletries bag. “I’ll be at your trailer in an hour, then.”
He started toward the door. “White wine, beer, or…”
“Sweet tea for me,” she answered.
Knox opened the door just as Eddie came out of the bathroom, and Thomas and Gabe entered the rec hall. He whipped around and went back to kiss Lottie on the cheek.
“What was that for?” she whispered.
“Credibility,” he replied. “Hey, y’all. Looks like perfect timing.”
“For what?” Gabe asked as he headed across the room.
“Eddie has the bathroom all warmed up for you,” Lottie answered.
“Not as hot as Lottie and Knox left it for me,” Eddie told them.
Knox slipped out the door and whistled all the way to his trailer. This fake stuff wasn’t so bad. He got most of the benefits without having to worry about the girlfriend getting stars in her eyes when she picked up one of those magazines with pictures of rings, cakes, and big white dresses.
He started the playlist on his phone and wiggled his shoulders to Caylee Hammack singing “Family Tree.” Every lyric in the song made him think of the family dynamics of the folks that had lived or even were living at the Paradise. Mary Jane had no idea what she had started when she movedinto the old brothel in a near-ghost town more than twenty years ago. She raised seven daughters there and watched all of them come back home after moving away. The words to the song talked about the roots running deep, and nothing could shake the family tree.
“Absolutely!” he agreed when the song ended. “You got that right, Miz Caylee, and I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t have the love that we are all lucky enough to share at the Paradise—even with our nosy Aunt Bernie.”
