The Perfect Dress(69)

“I’m surprised you’re bringing it back here.” Paula eased fettuccine noodles down into the pot of boiling water.

“You sure you want that thing? Why don’t you just tell him to take it to the salvage yard?” Mitzi said.

“At first I told him to pour gasoline on it and throw a match at it, but then I got a better idea. We could strip the interior out, take it to a body shop and get the roof repaired, and then have it custom painted and”—she clapped her hands once—“we’d have our trailer for future shows at a fraction of the cost of a new one.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mitzi said. “You want us to go get this finished and set it aside? We could be out there in fifteen minutes to help out.”

“No, I’ve hooked up to it in my old truck lots of times. I’ll bring it back here and park it out back. After we get done with the bridal show, we can start work on it and then haul it over to Jason’s Body Shop. He’s really good with that kind of work.” Jody headed for the back door. “And besides, Quincy will be there in case I need any help.”

Her faded-blue vehicle looked more than a little bit like a poor country cousin when she arrived and parked beside his brand-new truck. He waved from the place where the garden had been and started toward her. Tonight he wore wrinkled jeans and a knit shirt that hugged his body. His scuffed-up boots said they’d seen lots of hard work, and his straw hat bore sweat marks.

“I was ready to invite you out to roast marshmallows and make s’mores while we burned this thing to the ground.” He grinned.

For the first time, she noticed that he had a dimple on the right side of his cheek. “Why waste good marshmallows? We couldn’t eat them. They’d be poisoned.”

“But you’re willing to keep the thing, knowing that whatever you do with it will bring back memories?” he asked.

“When I get done with it, there will be nothing left to remind me of my time with Lyle.” She told him what she had in mind.

“That’s crazy. You could buy one and not have to do all that work. You’ll have to be careful not to do anything that will wind up knocking holes through the exterior walls.”

“That’s really none of your business. Maybe tearing it all out will bring me complete closure. It’ll leave me with an empty shell to rebuild the inside however I want,” she said.

“Women!” He threw up his hands.

“What about women?” She raised both eyebrows.

“You always overthink everything. Lyle’s a bastard who had an affair and left you. Get over it.”

She marched right up to him and poked her finger so close to his nose that it made his eyes cross. “You walk a mile in my shoes, Mr. Roberts, and then you can stand here all self-righteous and tell me to get over it. I’ll be hitching up to the trailer now and moving it off your precious property. If there’s any dirt on the tires when I get it back to the shop, I’ll be sure to put it in a box and mail it back to you. I wouldn’t want you thinkin’ I’m stealing it.”

He took a step back. “Hey, I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“Well, you did.” She stormed over to her truck, expertly backed it up to the trailer, got out, and hitched it without a problem. “Enjoy your land,” she said as she slid behind the wheel, slammed the door, and started the engine.

He tipped his hat at her, got into his truck, and drove away.

The radio was blaring just like it had been when she turned the key earlier, but now it was playing the Pistol Annies’ “I Feel a Sin Comin’ On.”

“Yeah, right,” Jody said as she stomped the clutch and put the truck in gear. “The only sin I feel comin’ on is maybe poisoning Lyle and slapping the shit out of Quincy . . . and maybe doing something evil to Clinton for Paula. But the sin I feel doesn’t have anything to do with a tall, dark, and handsome guy.”

Stop kiddin’ yourself, that pesky voice in her head said.



Jody gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were white and her hands ached when she finally parked behind the shop. She turned off the engine and sat in the hot truck until salty sweat began to sting her eyes. Opening the door to get air didn’t help since there wasn’t any sign of a breeze blowing. Finally, she swung open the door and put her feet on the ground but didn’t realize just how weak kneed she still was. She had to hang on to the door for a minute to get her balance.

Going back out there for the final time wasn’t supposed to affect her like this. If anything, it should bring more closure, not open up even more anger. When did this business of acceptance arrive anyway?

She didn’t bother unhitching the trailer but stomped into the house and went straight for a plate. “I’m mad and I’m hungry.”

“Mitzi’s upstairs. Do I need to call her and get out the ice cream?” Paula asked.

“No,” Jody said. “I need food and maybe a good cold beer to settle me down. I just had a run-in with Quincy, and what should have been the end to the Jody-and-Lyle story wasn’t.” She told Paula the details of what had happened. “What is it about men? Just because they can settle something with three words, they can’t understand that womenfolk need to figure out things.”

“They’re from Mars, remember?” Paula told her in a flat tone.