Deconstructed(94)

Cricket pulled a planner out of her purse. “Let me check my calendar. Well, um, I have to go to Julia Kate’s school for an awards service at nine thirty a.m. Then I’m supposed to have lunch with Mother and then meet Whitney Peacock about the Spring Fling. She wants me to—” Cricket snapped her mouth closed and made a face.

“What?” I asked.

“I have to go to the academic award thing, but then I can put off the other things. This is important.”

Juke nodded. “Good. I’ll tell him you’ll come by after lunch.”

We all stood there, somewhat satisfied, still a little awkward because how do you end a sting? Juke probably knew, but the rest of us were amateurs.

So we all went to the cafeteria and got coffee and a slice of pie while Ed Earl and Jimbo went to see Gran. We were a motley bunch, but I took comfort in my family and Cricket being there with me. My grandmother seemed to be feeling better, and Jimbo bumbled in to let us know that the urinalysis was clear and she was being released. Oh, and he also polished off my pie. Jimbo probably needed to heed the doctor’s warning himself since he looked as if he could deliver a full-term infant at any given moment.

So I told Cricket that I was taking the afternoon off to help Gran get settled. To which she said, “Of course you are.”

Then I walked with them to the parking lot to say goodbye. Juke climbed into his old truck, throwing me a salute. He seemed pleased with himself, and I was happy that he’d found some purpose and seemed to be doing much better. I would keep an eye on him. And then I sort of let my mouth hang open as Griff handed Cricket a bike helmet.

“You came with Griff? On the bike?”

Cricket grinned. “Heck yeah. I love riding a motorcycle. I mean, I could never get one for myself while my daughter is so young. Can’t take that risk, especially since she’s about to lose her daddy. And probably not while my mother is still living. She would die if I rode a hog, or whatever you call them. But Griffin is a very good driver. I trust him.”

My cousin’s chest may have puffed out a bit.

“This is so weird,” I said.

Cricket made a face. Then she smiled cheekily. “Well, it turns out I like weird. I hired you, didn’t I?”

I should have been insulted, but I knew Cricket didn’t mean it offensively. She meant it the way my cousins had meant it when they teased me about wearing makeup, crying when my Tamagotchi pet died, and writing “Mrs. Dakota Roberts” all over my notebooks. She meant it with love.

“You did.” I laughed as she slung her leg over the seat of the Harley and wrapped her arms around my cousin’s waist.

Griffin looked as pleased as Juke did. As pleased as I felt. Even if I was still worried about Gran and how I was going to get her to stop eating Pop-Tarts every morning.

They drove off, and I turned to go back inside the hospital. And just when the doors slid open, I heard someone behind me say, “That country chick went home. You owe me a Coke.”

Dak.

“I believe I was the one who said she was going home. Don’t you have to go console her or something?” I asked, turning around and setting my hand on my hip.

“You really want me to?” he asked, looking mighty good in his jeans and Van Halen T-shirt. Okay, it wasn’t Rob Zombie, but it would do. And this question was more than something light and playful. This was more than a silly bet over American Idol. He was asking me what I wanted. If I was going to stake a claim. If I wanted to pick up what he was laying down.

“No. I was hoping you might come help me ice Johnny’s birthday cake at Gran’s house. I mean, if you have someone to pour your beer for the next few hours, that is. We can pick up Southern Classic and daiquiris.”

Dak smiled. “I have a guy who pours a mean beer. And who passes up Southern Classic fried chicken, anyway?”

“Someone who doesn’t have good sense,” I said, gesturing toward the open doors.

“You never struck me as someone who didn’t have that.”

Dak smiled.

And I smiled back.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


CRICKET

Eleven days later

“Ruby, let’s go!” I called from the front of the store, trying to keep my anxiety level manageable. Today was the day I would witness Scott’s comeuppance. God willing and the creek don’t rise.

Jade was standing behind the counter, eyeing me wearing the Carven jacket that Ruby had refashioned into something quite lovely. “Ruby made that?”

I nodded. “She’s about to launch a line of clothing.”

“Mm,” Jade said, twirling her finger for me to spin. I obliged. “That looks good. I’d wear it.”

And that was high praise from Jade. She wasn’t one to ooh and aah over anything. I looked down at the jacket and pants. Ruby had mimicked the original design minus some damaged ribbon and had added a large black panel at the waist, hiding the original damage to the fabric. She’d streamlined the sleeves and added the same black band at the cuff. The cigarette pants she’d paired with it were emerald raw satin and should have looked absurd. Truly. But they didn’t. I had swept my hair up into a twist and pulled on my grandmother’s somewhat offensively large emerald earrings. I’d found a clutch at an estate sale that looked perfect with it. The open-toed black Tory Burch wedges were the finishing touch. I looked ready to take on the world. Or at least my soon-to-be ex-husband.