That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) (8 page)

So here sat Jess, riding in the front passenger seat of Tamel’s banana hearse. Only thing worse would be riding in back where the corpses used to lie. Jess couldn’t help but be a little extra frosty toward Tamel for twisting her arm to say yes to this venture. Her sisters hadn’t helped things any. When they heard she was letting Tamel take her to Ridgeland, they practically crowed their way out of the kitchen.

“Awww, I
knew
you’d go!” Maddy clapped her hands together.

Goody for her.

“Oh, c’mon, Jess, don’t look so put out. You can’t hide your head in the surf forever.”

Jess gave her sister a
you-idiot
look. “Surf, Maddy?”

Sarah laughed. “Try sand.”

“Don’t get me off the subject.” Maddy folded her arms. “You know good and well Tamel’s in love with you, and you at least like him back—a lot. You just won’t admit it.”

“Are you out of your mind? What would I want with some guy who runs a funeral parlor in Justus, Mississippi?”

“Careful now.” Mom stepped in from the east wing hallway. “Better watch the way you talk about your hometown.”

“It’s not the hometown, it’s the man—”

That’s when the doorbell had rung. Tamel, right on time.

Now Tamel sat in his tacky-hearse driver’s seat, one tanned hand on the wheel. His bright blue knit shirt offset the chocolate brown of his eyes. For some reason those eyes weren’t quite as sparkly today. Jess felt some of her frostiness melt. It was a lot easier to dig at him when he was in his smiley know-it-all mood. Which was most of the time.

“Tamel, what’s a hearse doin’ with two coffee cup holders?” She pointed to the console.

“I had ’em put in.”

“What in the world for?”

He halted at a stop sign and turned to look at her. “You want some coffee?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Dear sister Sarah made her witch’s brew this morning, which I couldn’t drink.” Jess effected a shudder.

“That’s why I put in the holders. Sometimes people want to drink somethin’.”

“Well, duh.”

“You asked.”

Wasn’t he a smart aleck this morning? As if he could afford to be, driving a monstrous vehicle like this. When they reached the bigger towns, she’d have to duck down in the seat. “Can we go through Mocha Ritaville?”

“Yeah. Unless you want to wait till we get near the seafood store.”

No way, she wasn’t stopping at a coffee place outside Justus in this car. “Nope. Besides, I wanna see you make Rita’s day.”

“Oh, boy.”

Rita Betts was like no one else. But then, that could describe half the people in Justus. Pushing sixty, Rita acted like some hippie teenager caught in a time warp. She was the only white woman Jess knew with dreadlocks. Lots of them, down past her shoulders. Rita’s eyes were hazel green, and she caked on purple eye shadow. Her arms jangled under heavy bracelets. Years of sporting dangly earrings had pulled down the holes in her ears.

In the downtown block Tamel turned right onto Grant Street and pulled up to the free-standing express coffee hut. The car was twice as long as the little building. He rolled down the window as Rita peered out from her perch inside. Jess could hear Mocha Ritaville’s ever present Jimmy Buffet music playing.

“Well, if it ain’t the handsome Tamel Curd.” Rita’s deep, throaty voice betrayed her years of smoking. “Who you got with ya there?” Rita bent down until she met eyes with Jess. “Oh, my, Jessica Dearing.” Rita looked at them askance, as if she knew exactly what was up with the two of them. Give it an hour, and she’d have the news they were together all over town. Probably have them getting married next week.

“How’s the lawyer business, Jess?”

Tamel’s smile fell a little, then jumped back onto his face.

“It’s fine. Good to see you, Rita.”

Today Rita’s earrings were big shiny red bead-like affairs. Interesting match to her orange tee shirt.

“Tamel, you handsome devil, when’re you gonna marry me?”

Rita’s line for years now.

He grinned. “I’m workin’ on it, Rita. I just don’t know how I’d keep you in the luxury to which you’ve grown accustomed.” He waved his hand at the coffee express.

“Honey, livin’ in a
shack
with you would be luxury.” She flashed a wide, flirtatious smile, showing yellowed teeth.

Yikes and boy howdy, as Granddad Pete used to say.

“You must have a free day today, Mr. Curd.” Rita winked at Tamel. “I ain’t heard a nobody dyin’ lately.”

Tamel flicked his hand. “Nope, nobody died, I’m afraid.”

Rita threw back her hand and hooted. “What a life! Waitin’ fer people to kick the bucket!”

Tamel kept on smiling, but Jess could tell the comment pricked.

Rita pounded her wooden window sill to calm herself down. “Y’all hear ’bout Leslie Willis?”

They both shook their heads.

“Well, you know she turned sixty last Sunday. Still claims she’s thirty-nine. Not that anybody believes that bag a wrinkles, bless her heart. Anyway, she done found herself a man in Florence a good twenty years younger ‘n’ her. Got him up livin’ in her house, fetchin’ her mail and food at the grocery.”

“Oh.” Tamel raised his chin. He wasn’t much for Justus gossip.

“That ain’t the kicker.” Rita flicked an earring around in a dramatic pause. “Young Romeo’s her son’s best friend.”

“Which son—Tony?”

Tony Willis ran the one gas station in town.

“The one and only. So now he’s all bent outta shape, not talkin’ to his mama ’cause he says she’s shamed him. They had a fight last night, and he got so mad he stomped down her porch stairs and fell and broke a leg. So now he cain’t work at the station, and that’s why it’s closed.”

“The Justus station’s
closed
?” Tamel stuck his chin forward.

“Yup, fer now. Hope you ain’t needin’ any gas.”

Tamel and Jess exchanged a look. That station had been in business as long as they could remember.

“What about his help, Charlie and Tom?” Tamel asked. “Can’t one of them take over for a while?”

Rita gave her head a slow shake, mouthing
Noooo.
“Way I heard it, Leslie’s so mad at her son she called both them boys and said she’d sic her new man on ’em if either one set foot in the station—Tony deserves to lose the business. And her new man weighs near three hundred pounds.”

Jess choked back a laugh. Tamel raised a hand—
what can you say?

Rita shifted on her feet, leaning on one fat arm. She looked mighty pleased about telling Jess and Tamel this juicy piece of news.

Her expression changed to all business. “So.” She shifted again, hitting the drive-up window ledge with a palm. “What can I getcha?”

Tamel ordered a double latte, and Jess, black coffee. Tamel insisted on paying. Rita proposed to him twice more before he could close his window and drive away.

“Man, she is somethin’.” Jess cradled her cup.

“Yeah.”

“Poor Tony.”

“And Charlie and Tom. I hope we get our gas station back.”

“The town’ll be up in arms if you don’t. They’ll run Leslie’s new boyfriend back to Florence.”

Tamel grunted.

Silence fell over the car. Jess studied Tamel. He looked bothered. If he knew she was watching him, he didn’t let on.

What was this, a new tactic to draw her out? He was usually the talker.

They passed the outskirts of Justus and headed north on Highway 49.

“So what’s goin’ on, Tamel? You said you needed to talk to someone.”

“Actually no. I needed to talk to
you
.”

Oh. Jess worked her mouth. “So talk.”

Tamel threw her an exasperated look. “Why are you always like that these days?”

“Like what?”

“You know very well what I’m talkin’ about.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I—” He lifted a hand and let it drop. “Fine.”

Jess took her time placing her coffee in the empty console holder.

“When did we last see each other, Jess?”

“Easter.” He knew that.

“And before that?”

“Christmas.”

“Either time, did you act happy to see me? Or more like you were just continuously ticked off?”

“I … I don’t know.” Why was he being so direct all of a sudden?

“Well, I do. And it’s the latter.”

Jess bit the inside of her lip.

“And when did we see each other before that?”

She didn’t have to think very hard. “Last August. Our last family reunion. You came home for the weekend.” Tamel had still been working at the law firm in Biloxi, about two hours and forty minutes from Justus.

“Remember what we did?”

Jessica’s heart pricked. She looked out the window. “Yes.”

“We hung out together as much as we could without takin’ you away from your family. We took a drive. Had a late-night snack Saturday night in Jackson.”

“Mm-hm.” She felt a lump in her throat. It had been a great weekend. But that was before. When he was still an attorney, doing what he was meant to do. Now look at how he earned his living—if you could call it that.

She didn’t even know him anymore.

Tamel rubbed his forehead. “These last ten months since I’ve been back in Justus have been some of the longest of my life. I’ve really looked forward to your comin’ home. But Christmas, Easter, and now—all you do is act cold toward me.” Hurt coated his voice. “I’ve kept upbeat around you, kept smilin’, but it’s gettin’ pretty old, Jess.”

Jess gazed at her lap, cut to the core. How could she have known? He always acted so sure of himself, as if what she did made no difference. But a voice deep inside her told her to stop rationalizing. She had to have known she was hurting him. Tamel wasn’t a cold person, far from it.

“I’m sorry.” Her words were barely a whisper.

Tamel took a deep breath. “What I want to know is—why?”

Shame trickled through Jess, trailing defensiveness. He had to know why. He was just making her say it. And the reason made her feel about two feet tall.

“I’m listenin’. And I’m not gonna let this drop.”

“Fine then, Tamel Curd.” She folded her arms. “Because you walked away from a great career, that’s why.”

“Ah. You mean because I came back to help my father, who happens to be dyin’?”

He’d die anyway, wouldn’t he?

The minute she thought the words, Jess felt appalled at herself. But it was true, wasn’t it? Henry Curd had never been much of a father to Tamel. Now he wanted to ruin his son’s life by forcing him to take over the funeral parlor. And Tamel was just going along with it.

“You could have helped him and kept your job. Come to visit more often. Get him to sell his business. He should be retirin’ anyway.”

“That’s not what he wanted.”

“What did
you
want, Tamel? Doesn’t that count?”

Tamel’s eyes remained locked on the road, his jaw set. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “What I wanted was to forge as much of a relationship with my father as I could during his remainin’ days. I never had a dad like yours, Jess. And I lost my mama long ago. You don’t know what it’s like to want for more in your family.”

Jess couldn’t find a response.

“My father’s likely to die within a year.”

She looked at Tamel, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know he was that bad.”

“How could you? You’ve never come ’round to see.”

Jess bit her lip and turned away.

Tamel said no more.

Jess unfolded her arms. Clasped her hands. “So … what will you do then?”

“He wants me to stay in Justus. Keep runnin’ the business.”

“I know.” The thought infuriated her. Selfish old man. Didn’t care about his son at all. “So is that what you’re goin’ to do?”

“I suppose if I did, you’d never speak to me again.”

“I never said that.”

“No. You
act
it.”

He made her sound so … petty. She wanted to smack him. “For your information, we’d still be friends.”

“Oh, good. Like we are now. The up-and-comin’ Memphis attorney lookin’ down her nose at her childhood friend. ‘Tsk, tsk, see what he’s made of his life. And he had so much potential.’”

“I’ve
never
talked to you like that.”

“You don’t have to, Jess!” He tossed her a glare. “It’s written all over you.”

“I—”

“You’ve always been pretty self-absorbed. I figured as you got older you’d grow out of it.”

“How dare—”

“But your self confidence, the way you take life by the horns—that’s what I’ve always admired about you. You’ve been that way since grade school. And in high school you were the shinin’ light over everyone. No one could touch you, Jess. No other girl came
close
to you.”

What was this? One minute he was cutting her down …

She waited for him to say more, but Tamel fell silent. She could feel frustration coming off him. It was in the way he gripped the steering wheel, watched the road like it was going to roll up and blow away.

Jess pushed tease into her tone. “So I’m not a shinin’ light anymore?”

“More like shallow waters.”

“Oh. Well, aren’t you Mr. Deep Ocean.”

No response.

“And what makes me so ‘shallow’ all of a sudden?”

He threw her another hard glance, as if she knew very well.

“Okay, Tamel. Have it your way. I’m shallow because I think you shouldn’t have given up your career. Forgive me for being sorry to see all your hard work go for nothin’.”

“I’m helpin’ my dad.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Wouldn’t you help yours?”

Her dad would never ask her to change her career and goals. He wouldn’t suck the life out of her like that.

“
Wouldn’t
you?”

Oh, for— “You never answered
my
question. What are you gonna do after your dad is gone?”