Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(51)

I waited patiently, mainly because I was accustomed to this behavior from Mom. Mom went to church on Sundays and she was a Christian for sure but she only invoked the sweet Lord Jesus on special occasions (of which there were many) that demanded a bit of a flair for drama.

Such as this one.

The phone was jostled and my Dad was there.

“Roxie?”

“Hi Dad.”

“Is it true? Did you final y get rid of that sum ’a bitch?”

“Yeah.”

I wasn’t going to tel them about my wild ride with Bil y. I needed to pick a good time for that, like after they’d had three shots of Uncle Tex’s hooch. Anyway, I didn’t want anything to color the upcoming semi-family reunion.

“Thank f**kin’ God. I always hated that bastard,” Dad said.

My Dad wasn’t one to hold anything back.

“I know. You didn’t real y keep that a secret.”

“So did your brother,” he went on.

“I know.”

“And your sister.”

“I know,” I said.

“And your mother.”

I rol ed my eyes to the ceiling.

“Jeez, Dad, I know.”

“And Mrs. Montgomery from down the street. The minute she laid eyes on him, she told me he was a bad seed.” Good grief.

Bil y was, of course, a bad seed but Mrs. Montgomery thought everyone was a bad seed. She even said Hol y Newbury was a bad seed and Hol y was Sister Hol y now and taught at St. Malachy Elementary School.

“Dad,” I said warningly.

“This is good news, Roxie. Good news.”

I decided to change the subject, mainly because Uncle Tex looked about to burst and if I didn’t get this show on the road, who knew what would happen.

“Is Mom stil there?” I asked.

“Yeah. You wanna talk to her?”

“Dad, listen, is she sitting down?”

Silence.

Then, “No.”

“Wel , get her to sit down. Dad, I’m in Denver.” Silence again.

I went on. “I’m sitting across from Uncle Tex right now.

He wants to talk to her.”

There was a hesitation then I heard his hand go over the mouthpiece but I stil could make out the words. “Trish, you need to sit down.”

“What?” my mom said in the background and I could hear the Mom edge of “What Has Roxanne Done Now?” in her tone.

“Roxie’s in Denver, with Tex.”

I heard a short, but loud, scream.

“He wants to talk to you,” Dad continued when Mom finished screaming.

“Sweet Jesus. Sweet Jesus,” Mom chanted.

I smiled at Uncle Tex.

Tex abruptly stood up, ready to escape. I stood too, prepared for this, and, carrying the phone with me, I blocked his way. His eyes were wilder than ever.

“Uncle Tex, take a deep breath,” I said.

“I’m handing the phone over to your mother,” Dad said in my ear. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” I told him and looked at Uncle Tex. “You ready?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Tex?” Mom said hesitantly in my ear.

“Hi Mom, it’s stil me. Hang on, here’s Uncle Tex.” Tex was taking in deep breaths, then pursing his lips and blowing them out in quick bursts like he was a woman in labor practicing Lamaze. I handed the phone receiver to him and he stared at it like it was a living thing. Then he took one more deep breath, snatched the receiver from my hand and put it to his ear. I set the phone on the dining room table.

“Trish?” Tex said in a soft boom.

I felt a melting warmth spread in my bel y. I got up close, rested my forehead against my uncle’s big, barrel chest and wrapped my arms around his middle. He may not have needed me to hold him, but I needed it, I needed it badly.

“Yeah, it’s me. How’s things?” Tex asked.

I heard my Mom talking to Tex, her voice sounded high and I couldn’t make out what she said. After she talked for a while, I felt Tex’s body relax and he put his hand on the back of my neck.

“Me and Roxie just had chops and rice. We been spendin’ a few days gettin’ to know each other. She’s a good kid, Trish. You done good with her. How’s Herb?” Mom talked again and I heard a knock at the door. I pul ed away, reached up on tiptoe and gave Uncle Tex’s fuzzy cheek a kiss and walked to the door.

I stil had a smile on my face when I opened the door.

The smile faded and my mouth dropped open at what I saw.

Hank was standing there, stil wearing his jeans, boots and wine-colored henley but now he was also wearing his black leather jacket.

“What are you doing here?” I asked but he didn’t answer.

He walked in and I jumped out of his way, because if I didn’t he would have walked right into me.

Hank looked around the room, searching for something.

Uncle Tex stood holding the phone receiver to his ear, eyes on Hank.

Then Hank grabbed my purse off the coffee table, came back to me, took my hand and dragged me out the door, slamming it behind us.

Through the slam, I could hear Uncle Tex’s booming laughter.

Holy cow.

What on earth was going on?

“Hank!” I yel ed, trying to pul my hand from his but he was dragging me along the sidewalk toward his 4Runner.