One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(16)

I didn’t recognize her, but she smiled widely and slid the tray of dessert onto the table and flopped into an empty chair with a huff.

“Long day?” someone named Mabel asked.

“Long week,” she replied.

“And Red?” Tootie’s eyes were wistful.

The woman pressed her lips into a flat line and shook her head. “Not a great day.”

A hand went to Tootie’s back in comfort. The woman’s eyes slid to me, and she sat up. “Oh, hi.”

I smiled and stretched out my hand. “Hi. I’m Lark.”

“MJ.” She shook my hand and smoothed her hair back before sneaking a glance at Bug.

Bug tipped her head toward Tootie, who was lost in another conversation. “Lark’s a Sullivan.”

MJ’s lip twisted, and her shoulders slumped a bit, almost in . . . disappointment, maybe?

“To be fair, I’m neither a King nor a Sullivan. Just the new girl.” I offered another smile, and she returned it before relaxing into her chair.

MJ leaned closer, her smile warm and friendly. “If Tootie’s claimed you, it means you’re definitely a Sullivan.” She held out her hand. “Julep King, but most people call me MJ.”

I took her hand in mine. “MJ?”

Her eyes crinkled and she shrugged. “Mint Julep.”

Before I could protest, Tootie lifted a small bell and rang it. Side conversations died down as Bug also stepped forward.

“Ladies. As you can see, we have a new guest. Lark, meet everyone. Everyone, Lark.”

Murmured greetings floated through the group, and I smiled and awkwardly lifted my hand.

“Now that that’s settled”—Bug clapped her hands together—“let’s have a drink.”

A woman to my left leaned closer. “Is it true you and Bowlegs were having a secret affair?”

Another woman butted in before I could even laugh at the suggestion. “I heard you were his long-lost daughter.” Her eyes were wide and hopeful.

I looked around, and my mouth dropped open.

Do I lie?

Tootie swiftly came to my rescue. “Bug and I arranged for her to attend the services. Lord knows the men in this town cause enough drama, and we couldn’t stand the thought of no one being there to mourn him. We hired Lark. She’s a friend of the family, and that’s the end of it.” Her tone was sweet, but her words were final.

The two women sat back, but as I was stuck between them, they both eyed me. I’m sure secret lover and long-lost daughter were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the rumors swirling around town about me.

“I swear I’m not a spy!” I laughed uncomfortably as the group took me in with wide eyes. Conversation wilted around me, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

The pretty redhead next to me popped a bite of food in her mouth and looked as though she was about to burst out laughing. “I’m Annie. Technically a Sullivan. The whole spy thing is kind of a sore subject.”

I leaned closer. “Are you serious?”

She smiled and lifted a shoulder. “It’s one of the many legends of the Sullivan–King rivalry. Military spies on opposite sides. Lines drawn in the sand.” She rolled her eyes and swatted her hand in the air. “Small-town lore, really.”

It was utterly ridiculous but also a little fascinating and a whole lot charming. “And no one seems to think that’s a little silly to still be mad about?”

Annie laughed. “Not when the idiot men in this town keep it alive and well with their pranks and insecurities.”

MJ piped up, pointing a fruit kebab in Annie’s direction. “Speaking of, I have it on good authority that a little payback’s coming to Lee. They know it was him who helped let loose those pigs with the numbers one and three on them at the high school reunion.”

Annie lifted her chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She winked, and they dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“They looked all night for pig number two.”

Laughing with the women was easy, natural. The tension between the Kings and Sullivans seemed to sit squarely on the men’s shoulders and had no place for the Bluebirds.

“Lee. The firefighter, right?” I affectionately remembered the youngest Sullivan brother who’d invited me to the fire station, though I was pretty sure it was just to get a rise out of Wyatt.

“He is now that he’s home. He was overseas with the military for a long time. We’re all relieved he’s back.” There was something there, in Annie’s voice. A sad history that hinted at something deeper, but she changed the subject before revealing any more. “MJ here is a nurse up at Haven Pines, the assisted-living facility where Red stays in the memory care ward. Keeps an eye on him for us.”

MJ offered another shy smile. “Doesn’t matter if he’s a Sullivan or a King. No one should have to suffer through what he has.” Annie nodded and hummed in agreement, though I wondered if everyone felt the same way.

My brow furrowed. Red Sullivan didn’t seem all that old, especially for him to be living in an assisted-living facility. If he was staying in the memory-care ward, he likely suffered from dementia or another kind of brain injury. It explained the little lost looks I picked up on at the services.

Annie leaned across and placed her hand on MJ’s. “He’s lucky to have you. We all know it.”