Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(107)
“Hank does make it look effortless.” Sienna, sipping her water, seemed to give me and my statements deep consideration. “And yet, sometimes things that look effortless to others, from the outside looking in, are exhausting to the person doing the thing.”
I twisted my lips to the side, thinking about this. “Do you think Hank is exhausted?”
“I don’t know. It certainly seemed to me like the whole thing with your ex-husband took his toll on him.”
“Hank said something about this to me when I worked at the club, that folks in town treated him horribly after Kevin left town.” I frowned, recalling the conversation and hating that people had been so spiteful for no reason.
“From what I’ve observed in Green Valley and from what Jethro has told me, it’s not like people ever really approved of Hank before your ex ran off with that woman, but everyone really seemed to blame Hank—rather than Kevin—for the end of your marriage.”
“I don’t understand that at all.” I gave my head a thoughtful shake. “Maybe it’s me being stupid again, but why would people blame Hank? That is so weird to me.”
Sienna sat up straighter. “You know . . . I have no idea. You’re right, that is weird. I would understand a little bit of shade being thrown his way. He’s an easy target as the owner of the club where they met. I was having babies during the whole bruhaha and hadn’t given it much thought, just listened as Hank and Jethro discussed it a few times. I offered to stand up for him. He didn’t want me to do that, so I let it go. But now that I really take a minute to consider things, the amount of vitriol he experienced in the thick of it makes no sense.”
“Right? It’s so weird.” It felt good to discuss this with Sienna, someone who cared about Hank and his well-being. I was so grateful for her friendship. “And it’s definitely why Hank wants to keep us a secret. He doesn’t want me or the kids to be ostracized by folks in town by association.”
“I would never let that happen, Charlotte.” She reached for my hand again. “That’s definitely something I can help with. I’ll throw a party and make sure everyone knows I consider a slight against you a personal affront against me.”
I smiled but lifted a hand to wave away her offer. “No, Sienna. You—you don’t need to—”
“But I will,” she said, looking stern and serious and lethal.
“And you think that’ll make a difference to people? They won’t avoid me if you make a show of being my friend?”
“I don’t think it, I know it.” She shrugged, her grin shining with all the confidence. “If we’re best friends, everyone will want to be your best friend. Speaking of, Hank should take a chill pill and ask his friends for help every once in a while. You both should. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t let me stand up for him when your ex left.”
“He probably didn’t think it would be fair,” I guessed. “He calls himself the fairness fairy.”
“Oh brother. That does sound like him. You’re probably right. But he’ll have no choice this time, and neither do you.”
Her pushiness made me laugh. It felt good to smile. “Fine. Thank you for your offer, I accept. Also, if you’re open to it, I’d like to invite some of the dancers, too—especially those who have kids. What do you think? Can you stretch your halo to cover them as well?”
“Absolutely!” She smacked the sofa pillow next to her. “This party is going to rock. We should pin the tail on something.”
I smile, but I also sighed, rubbing my forehead. “Now the hard part. Once we use the party to convince Hank that us dating in public won’t tarnish my reputation or hurt the kids, I’ll need to figure out what to do about the Buckleys.”
Her features turned contemplative and she tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “You were right before. It doesn’t make sense how everyone turned against Hank so viciously when your ex left. There’s something we don’t know. I feel like if we could figure that out, we’d be able to figure out a way to protect you against any attempt by your ex’s family to sue for custody.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah . . .” Her gaze lost focus. After a long moment of her staring in silence, her brown eyes sharpened on me and she said, “You know who we should ask? Cletus.”
“Cletus Winston? Your brother-in-law?”
“Yes!” She reached for her phone, which she’d set on the coffee table earlier. “I bet he knows.”
This statement confused me. “Why would Cletus know?”
“Cletus . . . well, Cletus . . .” Sienna seemed to be struggling to find the right words, then settled on, “Trust me. He knows things.”
“I have a question for you,” Sienna announced as soon as Cletus Winston stepped over the threshold to my house.
He peered around the foyer, his haphazard hair a mess of brown and gold curls offset by a few strands of red. The bulky man wore coveralls stained with grease, but his hands were clean.
“And it’s not even my birthday,” he mumbled. Then, to me, he said, “Does entry into this abode require that I remove my shoes?”
I shook my head. “Not unless you wish to.”