The Secret to Hummingbird Cake (7 page)

I shoved his hand. “Get off me, Jack,” I said.

“Why are you here?” I asked her. I felt Laine's hand on one arm and Ella Rae's on the other. Didn't take them long to
show up. Lexi smiled at me, and if I hadn't been furious and my adrenaline wasn't pumping at a hundred miles per hour, the red lipstick on her caps would've been hilarious. “Now, Carri,” she said. “Haven't we buried the hatchet, sweetheart?”

Two problems with that answer, actually. One, she'd called me Carri, which was reserved only for those closest to me. And two, she'd been condescending. Sweetheart? Seriously? She might as well have thrown a drink in my face. I was tipsy, I was mad, and I was twenty-one. In other words, the self-created drama was intense, all-consuming, and ridiculous. But at the time, I felt more than justified.

“I tell you what we can bury, Lexi,” I said. “We can bury the hatchet in your—”

Jack had caught me around the waist again and was trying to pull me away. Laine walked over to Lexi and was telling her something I couldn't hear. Whatever it was, it didn't appear to make a difference.

“If Carri wants me to leave, she can ask me to leave,” Lexi said to Laine. Then she looked at me.

I assumed that was an invitation to insult her. I obliged. “I want you to leave. You weren't invited, I don't want you here, and good-bye.”

There . . . that oughta cover it. Jack released his hold a little.

“What's wrong, Carri?” She smiled and looked Jack up and down. “You afraid of a little competition?”

I felt Jack's arm stiffen, but I handled it like a champ. “I might be,” I said. “If I saw any.”

“Lexi,” Jack said, “get out of here. Now!”

“Still can't control her, Jack?” Lexi said. “This is what happens when you get involved with a child.”

I didn't have time to react, and neither did Jack. All I heard was Ella Rae's protest, “Oh,
hell,
no she didn't,” and the pop of a fist connecting with a jaw. Only Lexi ducked, and Ella Rae landed an impressive right hook square on Laine's cheek.

“Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm!” Laine danced around holding her cheek.

“Oops! Oh no! Oh, Laine, I'm so sorry!” Ella Rae said. She tried to assess the damage, but Laine wouldn't have it. She wouldn't let Ella Rae or me anywhere near her. She just danced around and held her face and stomped her foot.

Jack took over in an instant. “Lexi, I told you once to get out, now leave. Tommy, please take Carrigan with you and Ella Rae. I'm taking Laine home.”

Jack ushered Laine out the door while the rest of us stood there a little sheepishly. Tommy handled that situation in his laid-back, country boy way. “Come on, y'all. It ain't a party till somebody gets a black eye. Nice jab, baby.” He patted Ella Rae on her backside. The crowd rippled a little nervous laughter, and the music started again.

I thanked everyone at the party as fast as I could, and we left ten minutes behind Jack and Laine. When we got to her house, she refused to talk to Ella Rae or me. In fact, she wouldn't even look in our direction. Jack had put a bag of frozen peas on her eye, and she was already in her robe on the sofa.

Ella Rae tried to adjust the pillow behind her and knocked a vase off the end table instead. I snickered a little and Ella Rae laughed out loud. Laine never moved and never spoke. She just pointed at the door with her peas stuck to her face. We tucked our tails and left, bursting into spontaneous laughter as we closed the door. She yelled at us from inside, “I can still hear you!” Which actually made it funnier.

It took Laine an entire week to speak to us at all. And you couldn't really call it speaking. She ranted. She raved. She lectured. All Ella Rae and I could do was take it. Ella Rae had given Laine her first shiner, and I had started the whole mess. Not to mention that Laine was always mortified of being a part of any sort of scandal. What was she supposed to tell her students? Miss Landry was in a drunken brawl at the country club?

That had made Ella Rae and me laugh and really started some fallout. She told us it was time to put away childish things. I was pretty sure the preacher had said the same thing from the pulpit Sunday, but if Laine wanted to preach, who was I to stop her? She lectured for at least thirty minutes before Ella Rae or I got a word in. It was hard to look at her too. I had never had a black eye like that, and I had played some type of sport my entire life. I wanted to tell her how impressed I was, and then thought I should just leave that alone. But anytime she turned her back Ella Rae would whisper, “Did you see her eye? I didn't know I could do that!” Ella Rae really did feel awful about hitting her, but she was like me. We'd both had knee surgeries, broken fingers, busted lips, stitches, you name
it. All this commotion over a black eye seemed ridiculous. But this was Laine we were talking about, and she was a girlie girl.

By the time the fight story had circulated Bon Dieu Falls a time or two, I had broken Lexi's arm, cracked two of her ribs, and rearranged her face enough that she needed plastic surgery. My parents even came to my house to question me about it. So many rumors, and I never even got to touch her. Ahhh . . . life in a small town.

Lexi left the parish shortly after that. I never knew exactly where she went, but I heard she moved to New Orleans. Then a few months ago I saw her again. I drove up to the post office one morning and there she was. I sat in my car and watched as she got into hers.

Why was she here? Had she moved back? I called Ella Rae immediately. She had heard nothing about Lexi Carter. I texted Laine at school. She didn't know anything either. I called Jack at the Farm next. I played it casual, asked how his day was going. Finally I mentioned I had seen Lexi and asked him if he knew she was in town.

“Yeah, somebody told me she had moved back,” he said.

It didn't take me long to put two and two together. That night I felt a distance between us. Eventually I asked him if he'd been seeing her. Of course he denied it. And of course I didn't believe him.

Sometimes I followed him. I went through his wallet, his
phone, his truck, his receipts. And every time I did it, I loathed myself. I'd always despised women who did stuff like that, and then I became one. I never found any evidence, but there was
something
wrong at my house, and I was crushed.

Then she'd disappeared just as quickly as she'd shown up. I was elated, hoping against hope her absence would bring Jack back to me. But he was still withdrawn and reserved, even more so now. Strangely enough, it was only when we were alone. Out there, I was still the love of his life. I supposed he needed to keep up appearances—after all, we had to keep that Whitfield name shiny.

And that made me sadder than anything. Hurt me with the truth, but don't comfort me with a lie.

The sound of Ella Rae's screeching tires yanked me from my trip down memory lane. I shook my head. The girl knew two speeds, wide open and dead stop. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

The morning of the Crawfish Boil broke bright and beautiful. I was going to the Farm early, and the girls were going with me. Jack had left around six that morning and kissed my forehead while I faked sleep. Where had this come from? And what did it mean?

He was becoming a little more affectionate lately and it annoyed, pleased, and confused me. Why now, when I had clearly crossed a line in the marriage? Why now, when I had all but given up?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and wondered, not for the first time, how my life had gotten this complicated. I was thirty years old and married to the love of my life. It shouldn't be this way.

But should or not, it was. And even if I felt ready to quit, I had to keep going. For the sake of my marriage. For the sake of my sanity.

At least my new outfit was perfect.
We'll see who wins this round, Count Bethany
.

When we arrived around ten, the Farm was already buzzing with life. The party didn't officially start until four that afternoon, but that never stopped anybody from showing up early. It was always like this. People started arriving before noon and left after midnight.

And I knew these people, really knew them. I knew Bobby Ray Curtis would get drunk and hit on me tonight but not mean a thing by it. In the big city, they called that sexual harassment. In Bon Dieu Falls we called it, “Bobby Ray Curtis got drunk and hit on me last night.”

I knew Jeannie McMillian would get mad at her husband sometime this afternoon and stay mad at him until they left tonight. I knew Jamie Washington would hug me so tight my ribs would almost crack. Then he'd tell me he how he still remembered when we were in first grade and I slapped him for using my purple crayon. We rolled on the floor and fought till our teacher broke us up. And he'd laugh the entire time he told me.

Just thinking about it made me smile. People could say what they wanted to about small towns, but I could call just about anybody I knew, black or white, and they would show up if I needed them. Any time of the day or night. These were
my
people. The black ones, the white ones, the old ones, the young ones. You couldn't drag me out of this town.

I made the rounds like a good Whitfield and talked to my in-laws, my parents, and many guests before catching up with
Ella Rae and Laine. I found them under the largest oak tree in the yard. Several of our friends had gathered there and were in the middle of a pretty hot game of horseshoes. I squeezed between the girls in the tree swing, only to pop right back up when I saw a familiar face.

“There you are!” Charlotte Freeman reached out to hug me. “I've been looking for you all morning! Where have you been?”

Charlotte was a couple of years older than Ella Rae, Laine, and me, but we had spent a lot of time with her in high school. She had gone off to LSU and married a foreign boy—he was from Mississippi—but they came from Vicksburg every year to the Crawfish Boil. She had proven time and time again to be a true and trusted friend, and I was genuinely glad to see her. In fact, after my girls, Charlotte and a couple of my softball teammates were about the only other females I really trusted.

“I've been keeping a low profile.” I laughed.

She raised one eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe! But you look fantastic! And so tiny!”

“I'm starving myself,” I said. “I haven't had anything that tasted good in two months.”

“Because?”

I rolled my eyes. “Bethany Wilkes, the porcelain princess.”

“Oh, please!” Charlotte said. “I have heels higher than her standards. Is she still sniffing around? And is she still having shoe issues?”

“Worse than ever,” I said, “on both counts.”

“I don't know why in the world you would ever give her a second thought.” Charlotte made a face as though the thought left a bad taste in her mouth. “Jack doesn't want Bethany Wilkes.”

“And you base this psychic knowledge on what?”

“On the fact that you're ten times prettier, smarter, and funnier than she is,” Charlotte said. “Not to mention the fact that the man married
you
. And he married you while facing a firing squad, I might add.”

I shook my head. “I just don't know what to think any more, Charlotte,” I said. “I wish I knew how to crawl inside his head and see what he's thinking. But it doesn't really matter any more. I just don't think it's going to work out. I . . . I . . . crossed a line.” I looked at her to see if she understood the obvious.

She did. Right away. “Oh, honey, you didn't.” She grabbed my hand.

Looking at the sadness on her face, I finally understood the gravity of the mistake I had made. I felt a brand-new ripple of guilt. “I just . . . I don't know. It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

“What a completely stupid reason,” Charlotte said.

That, at least, made me smile a little.