Sit! Stay! Speak! (6 page)

F
ROM ONE END OF THE YARD
,
A BLACK
-
AND
-
WHITE BALL OF FURY
came racing toward Jasper and the other workers in the yard at full speed. “Whoa, whoa!” Jasper shouted, holding his hands up in surrender. “Adelaide, call off your dog!”

Two of the men took off toward the back gate, allowing Felix to give chase, his good ear standing on end and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, strands of slobber flying in all directions.

“Felix!” Addie ordered, stepping in between Felix and Jasper. “Sit down!”

Felix screeched to a halt. He whined and stretched out in front of them on his belly.

“I thought for sure he was going to take my legs out,” Jasper said.

“That dog is a menace,” another man chimed in, his chest heaving
up and down as he gulped in buckets of air. “He coulda taken out my legs.”

“It would have been a bit higher than your legs,” Addie replied. She leaned down to pet Felix. “He wouldn't have bitten you. But you call my dog a menace again, and I might.”

“Remember they're here to help you,” Jasper whispered. “For free.” He walked toward the back of the kitchen window, his brow furrowed. “It's really not as bad as it looks. I think we can have this fixed pretty quick. But what's going on with your shed over there?”

“I broke the door.”

“Looks like you did more than break it.” Jasper put his hands on the splintered wood. “It is completely off its hinges.”

“It's useless anyway,” Addie replied.

“I think you're right,” Jasper said. “But I can probably secure this one until you can get another one.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I could really use a glass of sweet tea.”

Addie motioned for Jasper to follow her inside. “I don't have any tea made.”

Jasper stopped at the doorway. “You don't have any sweet tea?”

“No, but I guess I can make some real quick.” Addie shrugged. “I don't have any sugar, but I have some artificial—”

“Just stop right there,” Jasper cut her off. “Don't go saying things like
artificial sweetener
down here. Not if you want to make any friends.”

“What is it with you people and sweet tea?”

“You people?” Jasper raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Addie let out an exasperated sigh. “Southern people!”

“You just keep diggin' that hole deeper and deeper.”

“You want some water?”

Jasper didn't answer. He was staring at the table and chairs strewn about the kitchen. Finally, he said, “Did the storm blow in some debris?”

“That's not trash!” Addie placed both of her hands on the tabletop. “It's my aunt's old dining room set.”

“How old?”

“Old,” Addie replied. “But just because it's old doesn't mean it's trash.”

“You're going to fix it?”

“Refinish it, yes.”

Jasper peeled a piece of paint off one of the chairs. “And this is the kind of thing you did? With that other guy?”

Addie nodded. “It's going to look great when I'm done.”

“I'm sure it will,” Jasper replied. “Let's get some of the broken glass out of the way. Maybe let these guys work in peace.”

“Okay,” Addie agreed. “I got most of it up off the floor this morning so Felix wouldn't cut a paw. That's the last thing he needs.”

Addie set to work finding a box in which to put the pieces of broken glass. “I tried to use a plastic bag this morning. Imagine how well that worked out.”

Jasper stood over the counter by the window where the limb was nestled, and replied, “I'm going to pull some of these bigger chunks of glass out of the window. I don't want it to shatter when we pull the limb out. That will make for an even bigger mess.”

“I found a box!” Addie hollered from the living room. “I'll bring it in to you!”

When Addie returned, box in tow, Jasper was leaning over the sink, one hand wrapped in a paper towel. On the counter next to him were several drops of blood and a bloody shard of glass.

“What happened?” Addie surveyed the scene in front of her. “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Jasper quipped. “What did I do? The damned piece of glass cut the hell out of my hand.”

“Let me see it,” Addie demanded. “Is it bad?”

“Aside from the fact that I'm bleeding like a stuck pig, I think I'll live,” he replied drily. “I'm fine.”

“Let me see,” Addie repeated.

Begrudgingly, he held out his hand to Addie. She unwrapped the paper towel to find a jagged two-inch gash on his palm, blood still oozing.

“I think you're right.” Addie looked up at Jasper. “You'll live. But I need to clean and bandage this cut.”

“Fine,” Jasper replied, rolling his eyes. “It's really not that bad.”

“Hush!” Addie was already in the bathroom searching for peroxide and cotton balls. “Do you want your hand to get infected and fall off?”

“I'm not nine,” Jasper said, exasperated. “You can't threaten me with that and actually expect me to believe it.”

“Hold your hand over the sink,” Addie instructed. “Don't move it.” She turned on the water and ran it over Jasper's hand. Then she poured peroxide over the cut.

“Yes ma'am.”

Guiding him from the sink, Addie put his hand, palm up, on top of hers. She gently dabbed at the wound with a dish towel. As she held him, she felt a small tremor run up her spine, all the way to her head. Even her hair began to tingle. She looked up to see if
Jasper had noticed. He was staring at her, studying her. Without taking his eyes off her, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her into him.

Addie couldn't breathe.

From outside a horn honked. Jasper let out a curse and tore himself away from Addie and strode toward the living room window. Pulling back the curtain, he said, “It's Bob and Jim.” Without another word, he let himself out the front door, leaving Addie staring achingly after him.

A
DDIE SAT IDLY ON
W
ANDA
'
S FRONT PORCH
,
WATCHING CARS ZIP
past in Eunice's version of a Friday evening rush. It reminded her of living in Chicago, and for a brief moment she missed the smell of the city. She missed her mother and Jerry. She missed the smell of the Polish diner down by the Apollo Theater. Everything moved slower in Eunice. Nobody was in much of a hurry to do anything. It was as if people were stuck in a constant haze of summertime.

“Here you go,” Wanda broke in, handing Addie a tall glass filled with a pinkish liquid. “I make the best peach margarita in the world.”

Addie wrinkled her nose and replied, “I have to admit, I'm not a fan of any kind of margarita.”

“Lord, girl. Can't you just say thank you? Drink up or it's gonna be a long night.”

Addie took a sip from her glass. “Not too bad.”

“Not too bad?” Wanda snorted. “Not too bad? It's the best peach margarita in the Delta.”

“You forget I'm from Chicago,” Addie teased. “But it's good! I wasn't trying to insult you.”

“Oh, what do you know, city slicker?” Wanda laid on her thick southern accent. “Y'all don't know nothin' about drinkin'.”

Addie took another sip. “I can see why my aunt liked you.”

“I miss her bunches,” Wanda said. “She helped me out more'n I can say when I was going through hell with Bryar's daddy. That woman could make any situation a comedy.”

“She led an interesting life. I guess she had to look at things from a different perspective. Like you said, to keep from going crazy.”

“She didn't like talkin' about her life, kinda like you.” Wanda nodded toward Addie. “Never opened up too much about nothin'. But there was always talk around town about, you know, some kind of romance gone bad.”

Addie sat her glass down on the table in between them and said, “Aunt Tilda never told me too much. I stopped coming to visit her when I was twelve. After that summer, I spent most of my summers babysitting or doing something else in the city. I thought my world was too big for Eunice. I suspect she might have told me more once I got older. As a kid, I remember thinking it was strange that she lived down here all by herself with her closest family in Chicago.”

When Wanda didn't say anything, Addie continued.

“She's actually my great-aunt on my father's side. My dad left when I was little. I don't even remember him. My mom raised me by herself. Aunt Tilda and my mom were always pretty close despite my dad leaving. My mother had a lot of respect for her, doing what she did.”

“What did she do?”

Addie turned to Wanda and said, “Now I don't know if any of this is true. All I know is what my mother told me. So you'll have to take it with a grain of salt, because who knows where my mother got the story.”

Wanda's eyes widened. “Tell me! Tell me!”

“My aunt supposedly ran off from Chicago with a musician in the 1930s. I guess he must've been from Eunice or someplace close.” There was a mischievous gleam in Addie's eyes. “My mother told me that my aunt told her once that this musician ‘played me like his fiddle and never did make an honest woman out of me,' which sounds just like something Aunt Tilda would say. I guess after this guy left her, she decided to stay here and make a life for herself.”

“Wow,” Wanda replied after a few seconds of silence. “That sounds scandalous
now.
Can you imagine what it must have been like back then?”

Addie nodded and said, “I know. It's hard for me to picture my aunt with anyone. She never acted like she wanted a husband or kids, you know?”

“She used to say that men were only good for one or two things and neither of them was marriage!” Wanda giggled. “Hey, speaking of men . . . how come you didn't tell me that Jasper was the one who removed the tree limb from your window? I had to hear it from Mrs. Johnson when she brought her cat in to be neutered.”

“Who's Mrs. Johnson?” Addie asked. “And why is she talking about Jasper and my kitchen window?”

“Oh, honey.” Wanda waved a hand in the air. “You have a lot to learn about living in a small town. Everybody talks. And I mean everybody. You're new in town. You're a single woman. And suddenly
Jasper Floyd starts showing up at your house in his running shorts in the wee hours of the morning? And there you are not wearing any bra and standing on the porch in front of God and everybody?”

“What?” Addie sputtered, her hands flying up to her chest. “That's what people are saying about me?”

“I can't even imagine all the questions Jasper's mother will have to answer at church on Sunday,” Wanda replied. “Old widow Johnson could lick a skillet in the kitchen from the front porch.”

“What?”

“It's just something my granny used to say. It means she's a gossip.”

“How is it that
my
life is the most interesting topic of conversation around town?” Addie threw herself back into the chair. “My neighbor runs around in his yard half naked and nobody even seems to care.”

“You mean old Mr. Smoot?”

“Yes.”

“Everybody just expects that from him,” Wanda said. “But you and Jasper . . . well, now that's a story!”

“It's not like anything interesting happened,” Addie grumbled, settling back into her chair.

“Oh, no?”

“No.” Addie's mouth was set in a hard line. “Apparently being touched freaks him out. He and Felix are a lot alike.”

“Well, that's it,” Wanda said, pulling Addie up out of her seat. “I'm calling my brother and we're going out tonight.”

Addie shook her head. “I can't. I have too much to do at home.”

“No excuses. Bobby's friend Jennifer owns a sports bar downtown. It'll be fun. Put on a bra and you can call it damage control!”

“I always wear a bra,” Addie replied, “except when a huge tree branch crashes through my window at three
A
.
M
.”

“Don't take it personal,” Wanda said. “You were bound to be the talk of the town, but it makes it all the more delicious that the town's most eligible bachelor doesn't need directions to your house.”

“Nobody needs directions to my house!” Addie threw her arms up in the air. “I live right smack-dab in the middle of this godforsaken town.”

“Well, you're not staying anyway, right?” Wanda took a sip of her drink. “So what do you care what all the old biddies are saying?”

“I guess I don't.”

“Exactly. So let's go get ourselves gussied up!”

A
DDIE TWISTED UNCOMFORTABLY
from the backseat of Bobby's truck and said, “There is no way I'm wearing this out in public.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You look great!” Wanda replied, turning around to face her. “Don't she look great, Bobby?”

“Mmmhmm . . . ,” Bobby replied. “Good, good.” He wasn't even looking in Addie's direction.

“See?” Addie said. “Bobby can't even look at me!”

“Bobby's an idiot,” Wanda said, rolling her eyes.

“Then why did you ask him?” Addie yanked at the hem of her dress. She wasn't sure how she had allowed Wanda to talk her into wearing one of her dresses. Wanda was at least two sizes smaller than she was. Everything felt squished.

“Just stop worrying. I swear, for the life of me, I've never seen a girl as pretty as you worry about so much.”

Despite what people in town might have been saying about her, it wasn't like Addie to wear anything that came above her
knees, and she certainly didn't like to wear anything that clung to her. But somehow Wanda had talked her into a black cotton dress that came down only to midthigh. There were thick straps at each shoulder, with the sweetheart neckline resting just above her cleavage. Even though it was entirely too hot, Addie desperately wanted a cardigan. She checked herself in the rearview mirror one last time and said, “Okay. Let's do this.”

“Good girl!” Wanda jumped out of the pickup.

Addie followed Wanda and Bobby across the street to a small building nestled in a row of businesses. The sign above the bar read
JENNIE
'
S JOINT
in neon orange letters. It didn't look like much on the outside, but from the inside this was the place to be on a Friday night. There were people everywhere—sitting in booths, sitting at the tables, and standing up at the bar talking and drinking—and there was a live band playing in the back. Much to Addie's relief, nobody seemed to notice when the three of them walked through the door.

Bobby raised his hand above the throng of people and shouted something unintelligible. A tall woman with dark hair down to her waist came bounding over to them.

“Bobby!” the woman exclaimed as Bobby engulfed her in a hug. “Why didn't you tell me you were back in town? I woulda saved ya a place!”

“Didn't know it until just a couple of days ago,” Bobby replied, shrugging his thick shoulders. “Addie, this is Jennifer Taylor. Been buddies since we was kids.”

The woman stuck out a slender hand to Addie and said, “You can call me Jennie.”

“It's nice to meet you.” Addie smiled at the woman. “This place is crazy! I didn't even know this many people lived in this town!”

“Oh, it's always like this on Friday nights,” Jennie replied. “The Burle Brothers sure can draw a crowd.” She motioned to the band. “Come on over to the bar, and I'll get y'all something to drink!”

“I'll have a mango margarita!” Wanda called out, squeezing her way up to the bar. “Addie, sugar, what do you want?”

“Not a mango margarita.” Addie rolled her eyes. “I'll take a Guinness and a shot of bourbon.”

“I like you,” Jennie replied.

Addie took the shot. The warm liquid slid down her throat. It had been a long time since she'd had a drink like that.

“Hey, Vic!” Jennie shouted to the man behind the bar. “I need a rum and diet for the lovebirds over there.”

Wanda gave Addie a sharp jab in the ribs. “Don't look now.”

Jasper Floyd sat at a booth adjacent to the bar, and he wasn't alone. There was a woman next to him. They were sitting close to each other—unnervingly close—having a conversation that appeared to be very private.

Addie sucked in air. Who was this woman? She didn't look familiar. She looked like she had come straight from work with her smart blazer and matching skirt. Her jet black hair fell in a perfectly straight line at the middle of her back. Even from where Addie was standing, she could see the woman's perfect olive skin. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

She was perfect.

The woman stood up and started to walk toward the bar. Lord, she was tall. Addie felt like a bug waiting to be stepped on as the woman passed her in her four-inch heels. Addie turned away, her hands groping for the glass of Guinness. The glass tipped on its side, sloshing half of the contents onto the floor and onto Addie.

“Shit!”

The woman stared at Addie for a few seconds, her face emotionless, before turning her attention to Vic. “I'm sorry, but I ordered a drink a while ago and have yet to receive it.”

“Where's the bathroom?” Addie asked Wanda.

“In the back,” Wanda said. “Want me to go with you?”

Addie shook her head. “I'll be back. Get me another shot.”

She stalked off toward the bathrooms, toward where Jasper was now sitting alone. That was just all she needed—to be covered in beer and have to talk to him, while he was here with a gorgeous woman. Addie tried to ignore Jasper as she passed him, but he cut her off at the door.

“What happened here?” Jasper's gaze wandered from Addie's face to the front of her dress, which clung damply to her skin.

“I spilled beer on myself. Move, please.”

“You should be more careful.” He made no attempt to move.

“You should bite me.”

Jasper ran his teeth over his bottom lip and replied, “Is that an invitation?”

“Are you drunk?” Addie leaned in closer to him. He didn't look drunk.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“Well, now that we've got that settled . . .”

“Get out of my way, Jasper.”

Jasper's eyes danced over her body playfully. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Jasper stepped aside, allowing Addie passage.

“Thanks,” she said, shoving past him. “You're a real gentleman.”

“Are you mad at me about something?”

Addie turned back around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“You seem angry.”

“I'm not,” Addie replied. “I'm just wet, cold, and smell like stale beer.”

Jasper opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Instead, he pushed her back into the alcove between the bathrooms. He pressed her up against the wall, his eyes pleading with hers.

The heat from Jasper's body coupled with the cool wood of the wall against Addie's back was too much for her to take. She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to her level, where their mouths met for the first time. He kissed her with such a hunger, such a desperate hunger, that Addie forgot about everything else except his lips on hers—everything except being the answer to whatever it was that he needed.

When Jasper finally pulled away from her, he was smiling. “You don't smell like stale beer,” he said. “You smell like fresh strawberries in the summertime.”

“Thanks,” Addie murmured. She looked down at Jasper's hands, still intertwined with hers. The cut on his hand was still there, the flesh puckered slightly. She thought that it would probably scar, her mind wandering away from the moment just long enough for her to remember that there were people just beyond them talking, laughing, and drinking. There was another woman waiting at a table for Jasper and another shot waiting for Addie at the bar up front.