Page 49 of Beg Me

Jory wants me. He won’t take advantage of me. But I have no doubt that he’ll still show up tomorrow.

A smile twists against my lips.

What kind of man are you, Jory Plath?

And what am I going to do with you?

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Markie

“I’m so glad to see you this morning,” Pastor Reed says, shaking my hand as I enter the sanctuary.

“Good morning to you.” I smile and hurry along to make room for Mrs. Trumbull. The church is a flutter of activity. Members of the congregation hang out, catching up on the week’s activities while they wait for Violet Crowder to begin playing the piano. Everyone in Sugar Creek knows that when those first notes are played, you better be finding a seat or you’ll get a side-eye from the pastor.

“Hey, honey,” Lolly says, coming at me with outstretched arms. “How’s my girl?”

“Hey, Lolly.” I kiss her cheek as she pulls me into a hug. “You look pretty today.”

“In this old thing?” She scoffs. “Thank you, sweet girl. Now, you remember that there’s no Sunday dinner today because I’m going with my girlfriends to a little winery over by Knoxville.”

I smile at her. Lolly’s social life is fuller than mine. She and her group of friends are always on the go—visiting wineries, gambling at casinos, and baking pies for the elderly, as Lolly calls them, at the nursing home. Mira and I pointed out once that the nursing home residents were her age.

We never made that mistake again.

“I remember,” I say. “Have so much fun. And bring me back a bottle of wine, please.”

She leans forward, whispering in my ear. “I’ll bring you two. And, although Jesus turned water into wine, let’s not talk about that too much in church, okay?”

I laugh. “Fair.”

“I’ll say goodbye after the service,” she says, patting me on the arm. “I need to go visit with Jessie Mae. I heard she fell out in her garden on Thursday, and I want to check on her before we sit.”

“Go. I’ll see you later.”

I say hello to a few people as I make my way to my seat. My head throbs from the wine that Nettie and I consumed before finally falling asleep last night. I couldn’t make sense of what happened at Patsy’s, and Nettie was virtually no help considering that her advice was to show up at Jory’s house with nothing on but a raincoat and check his restraint again. So I drowned it all with a bottle of red and passed out.

Not the healthiest decision that I’ve ever made, but you can’t win them all.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing an open seat next to Astrid and Gray in the row in front of Gianna, Audrey, and Brooks. “How are you guys⁠—”

“Markie, there you are.” I turn, irritated at the interruption, and find George Mathers peering down at me. He’s in the same blue shirt and black tie that he’s worn every single Sunday since at least 2000. “I was hoping to run into you this morning. We were getting prepped for the pickleball draft, and I noticed that you didn’t list a partner.”

“My bad.”

“You have one, don’t you? I mean, I figured it was just an oversight on your part.”

“Yes,” I say, trying to keep my head steady so a wave of vomit doesn’t roll in. “I must’ve forgotten. I’ll email his name to you when I get out of here.”

He smiles. “Very good.” He waddles off toward the back of the church, adjusting his tie as he goes.

I begin to finish my sentence to my friends but am cut short again by the chirping of my phone … and those around me.

“Ladies,” Brooks says as if he’s shocked. “This is the house of the Lord. The least you can do is put your phones on silent mode.”

Gianna leans forward, her voice hushed. “I’ve seen the texts you send from the house of the Lord. Shut it.”