That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) (10 page)

Man, it was hotter ‘n’ blazes on the golf course. They’d teed off at nine twenty-five and were only on the third hole. Ben was already sweating like a pig. He wore a cap low over his eyes to block out the sun’s glare. Jake, Don, and Dad wore hats, too. They all had water bottles. Ben’s was half empty.

It was Ben’s turn to play—last of the foursome. The other three men weren’t doing so great. At least at this short hole they’d all gotten on the green. Barely. For all his bragging about his golf game, Don was in third place, only ahead of Jake. That’s what happened in the presence of a real golfer—everybody else fell apart.

The fairway before Ben was an easy one. A par three—a mere one hundred fifty yards. He pulled the nine iron out of his bag.

“Watch this and weep.” Ben wagged his head.

Don and Jake rolled their eyes.

Ben shifted his feet into place and worked a perfect grip on the club.
Keep the head down, stroke through the ball
. He swung forward and connected with a hard, precise
thwack
. The little white circle sailed into blue sky. Ben held the brim of his hat, following its flight. It arched up with precision, then started to fall. “Hah, look at that!”

The ball landed five feet from the hole and rolled forward a little.

Ben raised his fist in the air. “What’d I tell ya!”

“Good one, Ben.” Dad gazed at the green with admiration. “A real beauty.”

“Not that far from a hole-in-one. ’Course on such a short hole, it wouldn’t mean much.” Jake laughed and tried to swagger, which didn’t work too well. His skinny bowed legs stuck out from his blue shorts like a crane’s. Jake pushed his wire-rim glasses back up his nose. He was sweating so much the things wanted to fall off.

“Don’t matter how close it was.” Don pointed at Ben. “You either make a hole-in-one—or you don’t.”

Ben raised his chin. “If anybody here’s headed for one of those, it’s me.”

“I bet you get there, Son.” His dad slapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

They climbed into their carts, Ben with his dad, Don and Jake in the second, and took off toward the green. Ben’s dad drove their cart. Syton Dearing always liked to be behind the wheel.

“How’s Christina this mornin’?” He slowed for a turn on the path.

“Seems okay.”

“Better after your talk last night?”

“I don’t know. I guess. She still doesn’t … she keeps a lot of things to herself. Now that I know she tends to hide negative stuff, I have to work to figure her out.”

“Well, she’s with your mama so she’s probably havin’ a good day.”

Yup. No easier person to be with than Ruth Dearing.

His dad threw him a glance. “And how are
you?”

Ben took a deep breath. “Better. Sleep always helps. I think Christina and I can do this. I
know
we can.”

“I’m sure you can too.”

They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence. But there was so much Ben could say. Sometimes he wished he could open up his dad’s head and pour out all the wisdom. Especially now that Ben faced marriage, which seemed wonderful and exciting and scary all at once.

There was a time—when Ben was a teenager—he’d thought his parents didn’t know much at all. They’d grown up in a different generation, were old-fashioned in many ways. What did they know about being a teenager in today’s world? Not until Ben had gone to college had he slowly begun to realize how much his parents
did
know. That their old-fashioned values stood for something. That they were caring and smart, and he couldn’t have asked for better parents. He’d started opening up to them more after he graduated college, especially his dad. Then they could talk business, something Ben was learning about firsthand. During one of their talks his father had admitted how much he’d hoped Ben would follow in his footsteps and run the family’s Ford dealership some day. Yet he’d never pushed Ben, giving him the chance to choose what he wanted. Took a strong man to let his son follow his own path like that. Made Ben respect him all the more.

They reached the green and climbed out. Don had to go to the edge to hit his ball. He took forever getting into position, shifting his feet and wiggling his butt.

Ben put his hand on his hips. “Are you dancin’ or playin’ golf?”

“Why, you wanna cha-cha?” Don looked up, then back to the ball. “Drat. Now I lost my concentration.”

“Come on, Don, we’ll be here all day.” Jake raised both hands. “Party behind us is gonna get ticked.”

Don glanced up the course. “They’re way back there.”

“Not anymore, they’re not.”

“Would you be quiet? I can
not
focus with all this chatter.”

Ben tried not to laugh. That was the trouble with Don and golf. He was pretty good, but he worked at it too hard. Got all tense. Pulled up his head too soon a lot of times, which made him hit the top of the ball. Ben just let things flow. Plus, Don hated to lose. Now that Ben was here, he was the underdog. And he just couldn’t stand it.

“Okay.” Dad raised his hands, palms out. “Everybody be still and don’t breathe. Don’s about to take his shot.”

They fell silent, watching Don. He started his butt/foot shuffle again.

“Sometime next Sunday,” Dad added.

Jake choked out a laugh. Ben guffawed.

Don straightened with a huff. “What’s the matter with you people, can’t you let a guy hit the ball?”

“No one’s stoppin’ ya.” Dad’s eyes twinkled.

“I can’t play with all the noise.”

“Maybe you just can’t play,” Ben put in.

Jake looked over his shoulder. “Uh-oh. Party’s at the second hole. Better hurry, Don.”

“Don’t rush me.” Don made a frustrated sound in his throat and repositioned his club. Started his shuffle all over again. Ben and his dad exchanged a grin. Ben made a cutting gesture across his throat with one finger. Finally Don’s putter connected with the ball. It bounced and rolled straight toward the hole. Whoa.

The ball reached the hole and dropped in.

“Ahhhh!” Don jumped off the ground, putter still in his hand. “See there!” He’d moved to second place.

“Good one, Don.” Dad sounded surprised.

“A lucky shot.” Ben waved his hand. In his head, he calculated. After he made his next shot—which he would—he’d be only one ahead of Don.

“Call it what you want, it’s a par two on a par three hole.” Don slid the club into his bag with finesse.

“No more than I’m gonna get,” Ben said.

“It’s never over till the fat lady sings.”

“Who you callin’ fat?” Dad felt around his waist.

“Who you callin’ a lady?” Jake pretended to be indignant.

Ben’s dad and Jake each ended up with one over par. Ben easily knocked his ball in the hole. He retrieved it and pointed at Don. “Still one ahead of you.”

“I’ll catch up.”

“In your next life.”

Jake laughed as he headed for his cart. “What’s better than a pleasant golf game with family?”

“Nothin’.” Dad smiled. “Except winnin’. Not that I know how that feels.”

Ben climbed back into the golf cart. He was on a roll. Only three holes, but he could feel it. King of the world today, that was for sure.

Dad was right, Christina was probably having as good a time as he was. She’d be getting to know the women in the family better. Starting to fit in.

They still needed to get a wedding date on the calendar. Should do that tonight at supper.

Wow. Ben smiled to himself. By the time he hit the pillow tonight, he’d know the day he would become Christina’s husband. Even in the blazing sun, Ben got goose bumps just thinking about it.

Jess paced her bedroom, going from furious to teary-eyed and back again. Sometimes she was both at once. She swiped away the tears fast as they came.

Men. They were nothing but trouble.

She wished she could lie down and rest. Fall asleep and block out the world. Fat chance. She felt wound up enough to punch a hole in the wall. Only one thing could salvage this rotten day—showing up her sisters by making a bang-up feast of those lobsters.

A feast Tamel would sorely miss. And she’d make sure he heard about it, too.

For half an hour or so she paced and mumbled. Told Tamel off a dozen times. Finally she flopped down on her bed, defeated and spent. Her stomach growled. Who knew why she should be hungry so soon. Except that dealing with Tamel had taken a ton of energy.

Jess pushed to her feet and headed out of the room. With most of the family gone, she’d have first dibs at last night’s leftovers.

Still frowning, she went down the stairs and headed back toward the family room. Christina sat on the couch, eyes closed. At the sound of Jess’s footsteps, her head snapped up. Her eyes looked red.

Jess stopped. “You okay?”

Christina nodded.

Yeah, right. But if the girl wouldn’t talk to her, there wasn’t much she could do.

Voices filtered from the far west wing hall. Sarah and Mama were back. Bad timing. Jess was in no mood to answer questions about her ride with Tamel.

As if that wasn’t enough, Maddy appeared from the east wing hall, eyes at half mast.

“Heard you had a headache,” Jess said. It was the polite thing to say.

“Yeah, it’s better.” Maddy rubbed her face. “I need some iced tea. Hi, Christina. Kids okay?”

Christina ducked her head. “Yes.”

Maddy gave her a long look, then shrugged and headed to the kitchen. Jess followed. Sarah and Mama came in at the same time, carrying bags.

“Any more out there?” Jess asked.

“Nope.” Mama plopped her bags down on the counter. “We got it all. Includin’ everything on your list for supper.”

“Great. I picked up some awesome lobsters.”

“So how was Tamel?” Sarah would have to bring him up.

“
Don’t
ask.”

“Oh, no. What hap—”

“Sarah. Can it.”

Sarah held up both hands. “Okay, okay.”

“Christina, honey, how you doin’?” Peacemaker Mama with a change of subject. She started taking food out of the sacks.

“Fine.” Christina didn’t move from the couch.

“Kids treat you okay?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “But I—”

“Hi, Mama.” Alex sidled into the kitchen, wearing Lacey’s pink nightgown.

Maddy tilted her head. “Why’re you wearin’ that?”

Alex pushed her lips together. “My clothes got dirty.”

“How?”

“We were, um … eatin’.”

“Eatin’ what?”

Alex kept her head down and pointed toward the family room at Christina.

Ben’s fiancée scrambled off the couch. “I … they were … I was trying to keep them quiet so they wouldn’t wake you.” Her words tripped over each other. “I’m so sorry, Mrs.—Mama Ruth. We broke a plate. I cleaned it up, and then I had to wash Alex’s clothes.”

Mama had stopped her work and was concentrating on Christina, who looked like she faced a firing squad. “Well, honey, that’s no matter. Don’t you worry about a plate.”

“She gave us pie and ice cream.” Alex pushed her lips together. “And it got
all over
my clothes.”

What a little tattletale. Jess shot her niece a scathing look.

“Pie and ice cream?” Sarah and Maddy repeated in stereo.

Christina’s face blanched. “I didn’t know what to do. They were fighting, and I didn’t want Maddy—”

“Honey, don’t worry about it.” Mama walked over and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “We shouldn’t have left you alone with the kids to begin with. Really, this is no big deal.”

“Had to wash Alex’s clothes.”
Suddenly Christina’s words registered. A lightning bolt hit Jess in the chest. “You washed her clothes?” She threw the question at Christina.

Christina’s head pulled back. She nodded.

“Where? In the kitchen sink?” Jess’s voice bent upward. “Tell me you washed ’em out here in the sink.”

Christina blinked, her face turning whiter. “No.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.
“Where’d you wash ’em, then?”

“In the washing machine. I just—”

“Aaaaahhhh!” Jess flung both hands in the air. She whirled and ran toward the west wing, yelling. “No, tell me please, no!”

“Jess, what is it?” Sarah called after her.

Jess kept running. She reached the end of the hallway and thudded into the garage. Veered right and sprinted toward the laundry room. Vaguely she registered multiple pairs of feet behind her. Jess passed the dryer, the washer—and skidded to a halt in front of the large tub sink.

It was spewing bubbles.

“Nno!” Jess leapt forward and slapped some of the bubbles aside. Soapy water filled the sink almost to the rim. “Where are they?” She shoved away more bubbles, trying to see the bottom of the sink. One big wet circle floated up her nose. She sneezed, then fought bubbles some more until she could see the bottom.

Mama, Maddy, Sarah, and Christina pulled up beside Jess, breathing hard. Alex wasn’t far behind.

There! Jess’s nine once perfect lobsters lurched about in the depths of the soapy water like they were drunk.

“Oh, no.” Jess plunged her arm into the sink and yanked out the stopper. The water started to drain with loud sucking sounds.

“What happened, what happened?” Alex stood on her toes to look into the sink.

“My lobsters!” Jess nearly wailed the words. She pulled one out of the suds and held it up. Its rubber banded claws waved weakly, bubbles coming out of every hole and cranny in its body. Thing looked like it had crawled through a car wash.

Alex shrieked and jumped away.

Jess plunged her arm in again and pulled out a second soap-saturated lobster. “No, no. This can’t be happeniiiing!”

Christina stood back, eyes wide and body rigid. Sarah had one hand pressed against her mouth.

“How could you not
see
them?” Jess whirled on Christina. “I put ’em in the sink with some water.”

Christina shook her head.

“Couldn’t you see the washing machine drains into this sink?” Jess wanted to strangle Christina’s little neck.

“Now, Jess, she didn’t know,” Mama said.

Jess raised the two lobsters higher in the air. They were still blowing bubbles. One fell quiet. “No!” She shook both of them hard. “Don’t
die
! You cannot
die!
” She jerked them around until their heads flopped back and forth. More bubbles oozed out.

Alex screamed and ran from the room.

Maddy exploded in her machine-gun laughter. “Oh, ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Jess’s cheeks scorched. “Don’t you
dare
laugh, do you know how much these things
cost?”

“Darlin’, it’s all right.” Mama picked up a third lobster. The sink was now drained, nothing left but half a foot of suds.

Jess dropped one critter and smacked on the faucet. “I gotta rinse ’em off.” Fresh water poured into the sink, stirring the bubbles. The lobsters clacked their claws in panic.

Sarah started giggling. Jess threw her a look to kill. Maddy laughed even louder until she and Sarah cackled like hyenas, leaning into each other for support. Like a wild woman, Jess batted down the bubbles. Punched and hit and smacked, all the while yelling to the lobsters they’d be all right¬¬, just hang on. Finally every last bubble was gone. She snatched up the weakest-looking lobster and thrust it under a deluge of running water, rinsing it front and back, up and down. Scrubbing it with her fingers. “Come on, come on …”

Bubbles oozed out.

Christina stood frozen.

Maddy and Sarah howled. Even Mama started chuckling.

Fury sent tears to Jess’s eyes. “You won’t be laughin’ come supper time.” She dropped lobster number one and started in on number two.

Pogey scurried in, his bare feet slapping the concrete, and their smell coming with him. “What happened?” He pushed around his mother and skidded to a stop. At the sight of bubbles and lobsters and what he surely thought was a crazed Aunt Jess, his eyes went round. Pogey drew in his mouth, stretching his chubby cheeks. “Oooooh!”

Jess’s jaw went tight. “Pogey, don’t you say a word, I swear.”

Pogey chortled. Jess kicked at him. He jumped back but wouldn’t shut up. Soon he was holding his stomach, bent over laughing.

Jess’s eyes narrowed to slits. She would massacre him later. Along with her sisters. And she would
enjoy
it.

Lacey ran into the room. “What, what, what!”

Jess flicked a look at the ceiling. “Great, let’s just get the whole family in here.”

Lacey took one look in the sink and shrieked.

“Come on, Jess.” Mama did her best to swallow her laughter. “It’s just some lobsters.” She picked one up and turned it upside down.

What did she think that would do, drain it?

“A bunch of soapy, poisoned ones!” Jess snatched up number three. This wasn’t working. Even the two she’d rinsed off were barely alive. And soap kept coming out of ’em. “What’m I gonna fix for supper now?
What?”

Christina’s mouth creaked open. “I’m …
sorry
. I didn’t …”

“Don’t you worry, honey.” Mama patted Christina on the back. “It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Jess rinsed and bathed and scrubbed. Maybe, just maybe the lobsters wouldn’t taste like laundry water …

“Ah!” No use. She threw number four down into the sink. The thing landed on top of its fellow critters and slowly rolled over. Jess stuck her lobster-smelling hands in her hair. “I can’t
believe
this!”

Christina turned and fled the room.

“Oh, dear.” Mama hurried after her.

“Wait, Christina!” Lacey ran out.

“Jess, what’s the p-problem?” Sarah could barely talk for all her cackling. “Haven’t you ever heard of eating soap and lobster?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Maddy stumbled sideways.

“Get out of here, y’all!” Jess pushed her sisters toward the door. “You too, Pogey! Out, out,
out.”
She herded them all into the garage and slammed the laundry room door. She leaned against it, palms pressed against the wood. Dully she gazed across the room at the sink, hearing the faint
scribble-scrabble
of washed-out sea creatures.

First Tamel and now this. Today had to be the
worst
day of her
entire
life.

Jess tried to force herself back to the sink. But what for? Those lobsters could never be cooked now. Put those things in boiling water, and she’d likely fill the entire house with bubbles.

Just wait till Tamel heard about this. She’d never hear the end of it.

Not that she cared what he did or thought anyway.

“Ooohhh.” Jess bent over, her eyes filling with tears. Next thing she knew, she’d slid to the floor, elbows on her bent knees and hands over her face. For the first time since she heard Tamel had walked away from his law career—which meant he’d walked away from
her
—Jess let herself bawl.