Small Town Rumors(31)

“It’s not a date and it’s not every week,” Jennie Sue protested.

“Thank goodness,” Cricket snapped, and then changed her tone. “Lettie, darlin’, come over here and sit with us girls. Those guys are all plannin’ Rick’s stand idea.” Cricket turned back to Jennie Sue. “I intend to put out the news that y’all had a big argument at the market and you’ve broken off your relationship.”

“Kind of difficult to break something off that hasn’t even begun.” Jennie Sue’s tone could be every bit as cold as her mother’s.

“That’s not what the talk in town says—I’m nippin’ it in the bud,” Cricket said.

“Be careful,” Lettie said in all seriousness. “You might cause a bigger problem than if you let the whole thing die in its sleep. We all know that they’re just friends, and pretty soon everyone else will know it, too.”

Cricket changed the subject without commenting on Lettie’s advice. “So what’s our book for next month?”

“I’d like to do a mystery this time. Maybe the newest Sue Grafton?” Nadine offered.

“How about instead of the newest, we go back and do the first one, A Is for Alibi, and then do one of her newer ones and compare them?” Cricket suggested.

Jennie Sue didn’t like to read mysteries, and right then, she wasn’t too fond of Cricket. She’d just invent an excuse not to go to the book-club meeting the next month. Maybe by then she’d have a lead on a new job in Dallas or Austin.



Rick tossed and turned for an hour after he crawled into bed. Finally, he got up, made himself a cup of hot chocolate, and carried it back to his room. Cricket was in a snit, but then, she’d never liked Jennie Sue. She might come around someday, but maybe not. It didn’t matter anyway. He could be friends, even long-distance friends, with Jennie Sue, whether his sister was or not.

When he awoke before daylight the next morning, he tiptoed around in the house so that he didn’t wake his sister. Elaine had offered Cricket a ride, but she wouldn’t show until a bit before nine o’clock. While he was being considerate, he also didn’t want another lecture. He just wanted to spend the day with Jennie Sue.

He loaded his truck bed, and an hour later, he parked in Lettie’s driveway, expecting to go up to the door and knock. But Jennie Sue came out of the shadows and got into the truck before he could even shut off the engine.

“Hello. Don’t you just love the smell of early morning?” She held up a brown paper bag. “I brought a thermos of coffee and biscuits stuffed with sausage. They’re those kind you buy in the frozen-food department, but I promise I cooked the sausage all by myself.”

“Hey, any woman who can cook biscuits without burning them is a star in my book.”

She opened up a plastic container and handed him one. “Don’t judge until you’ve tasted it.”

“Mmm.” He made appreciative noises at the first bite. “Amazing. You are now invited to go with me every Saturday that you want. I’ll even throw in an extra cantaloupe for the breakfast.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said. “But don’t pencil me in for every Saturday. The ladies could need me to drive them somewhere, and I sure wouldn’t want to take Cricket’s job.”

They ate in silence all the way to the market, where Rick backed his truck up to his regular stall. Jennie Sue was out of the vehicle and had the tailgate down before he could join her.

“So we put some of each on the table and then keep it replenished as the day goes on, right?” She was already filling one of the small baskets with tomatoes.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” He picked up two huge watermelons and set them at the back of the wooden shelf.

“Nope, but I loved going to the market with Mabel when I was a little kid. I used to play farmers market at home after we’d been. This is going to be a fun day,” she told him.

Why oh why did she have to be so perfect in every way and so determined to leave Bloom? They were becoming friends, and there was a possibility that could lead to more.

Maybe.





Chapter Eight

Dill sat across the booth from Jennie Sue in the Main Street Café. They’d both ordered the chicken-fried steak special that Sunday afternoon. She didn’t mind the silence between them, yet with her father’s expression and the way he kept sighing, it wasn’t hard to guess that he had something on his mind.

“Spit it out, Daddy.” She pushed her empty plate back. “You’ve got something on your mind. So let’s clear the air and then go on to more fun things to talk about. I’m dying to tell you all about the farmers’ market and how much fun I had at the book club on Friday night.”

His gaze locked with hers across the table. “Your mother is mortified about what you are doing.”

“And you?” Jennie Sue asked.

“It’s complicated.”

She shook her head. “You don’t get to use that. It’s my generation’s go-to, not yours.”

He laid his paper napkin on the plate, picked up a half-empty glass of sweet tea, and took a sip. “But in this case, it’s the only word that describes the problem. Everything about your mother is complicated.”