Chapter
40
I’d opted for fairly comfortable two-inch black boots and my go-to basic little-black-dress for today’s memorial service. Good thing too, since the church was packed with mourners when I arrived and I’d have to stand the entire service.
I took my place in the back, my hands clinched together in front of me, which seemed like proper mourner etiquette. I wasn’t sure, since the last time I’d attended a memorial was when my parents died almost twenty years before.
I could hardly remember their faces anymore. That alone broke my heart.
But I did remember my mother’s voice, her gently rocking us in the rocking chair my dad had built out of old casks. According to Jack, my dad had been the finest cooper in the land. He could build anything, including whiskey barrels, in a few hours.
Tears rose in my eyes as I thought of the old rocking chair tucked away in Jack’s attic. I’d begged him to let me keep it in my room, but he’d smiled sadly. “Sometimes out of sight is the only way to survive, girl, and I want you to thrive,” he’d said.
Today I was thankful he had.
Mary, who was being helped down the aisle to her seat in the front row, drew my attention. Not because of her grief, which looked unbearable, but more so for the man holding her upright. Brodie clasped her arms, his face a rigid mask.
Again the suspicion reared its head.
Were those two having an affair despite Brodie’s claims to the opposite? The way he held her, softly as if she might break, spoke of intimacy. So much so I turned away—but not before Mary’s eye caught mine.
She looked beyond devastated, tears silently falling as they had the day I visited her at her house on Gator Alley.
But with more than sadness this time.
Instead her gaze also boiled with equal parts grief and rage. She stared daggers in my direction. I took a calming breath. I was being paranoid. Nothing more. Mary didn’t wish me harm. Why would she? Unless she believed the worst of Jack.
I wanted to scream his innocence but bit my tongue instead.
Seeing her intense rage, I was glad to be close to Danny Gett, who was likely armed. He stood a few feet away, his arm around Nancy Jeanne, the much too young and pregnant woman from the Curl & Dye. The one who ran out crying at the insinuation that Danny was involved with other women. A blush rose on my cheeks. Poor Nancy Jeanne. I could think of ten men much better suited for fatherhood than Danny Gett. Odd, but Brodie’s name came first to mind.
The service started with Pastor Ryan welcoming the mourners, and then he launched into story after story about the upstanding, albeit fallen, member of the community—Roger Kerrick.
An occasional sniffle filled the church, but nothing more.
I found that saddest of all.
Halfway through the service, Nancy Jeanne grabbed her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She launched herself away from Danny and ran for the door. Heads swiveled our way.
Instinctively, I smiled at the mourners now openly glaring at me as I too headed from the room. I wanted to make sure Danny’s girlfriend was okay, for she had looked anything but.
It had been a while since I’d been inside the church, or any church for that matter, so it took me a few minutes to find the restroom off a tiny hallway by the confessional. Here in Gett, there was one church that all denominations utilized, from the two members of the Jewish faith, to the fifty or so Catholics, and one or two followers of Islam.
Gett, oddly enough, had a long history of religious tolerance. Probably had something to do with it also being the greatest producer of whiskey in all fifty states.
I started to open the door, but Rue Gett’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “I’ll give you money, Nancy Jeanne. But you need to leave. Soon. Before you start to show,” she said. My eyes widened with shock. Rue Gett wanted Nancy Jeanne and her future grandchild to leave town? Had I not heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed it.
“Mrs. Gett,” the girl cried, “please, I—”
“Hush,” Rue cut her off. “You know you can’t stay here. I won’t—”
The door hinge decided to out me by letting out a loud moan. I winced, debating if I should enter or run back to the service. The mirror hanging over the sink made up my mind for me, for Rue’s eyes caught mine in it. I ducked my head. “Excuse me, ladies, I just …” I motioned to the door hiding the toilet.
“Yes, of course,” Rue said, using her cane to stagger from the restroom. Before she left, she turned back, her eyes on mine. “You’re still planning on dining with me this evening?” I nodded, wondering if I should try to convince Rue to leave Nancy Jeanne alone to make her own decision regarding her future. “Good. We have much to discuss,” she said, and then left.
I looked at Nancy Jeanne, and she at me. She took a ragged breath, slumping against the sink. I rushed to her side. “Are you all right?” Anger made my voice tight. How dare Rue upset her in her delicate condition. And why the hell had Danny let his grandma be his mouthpiece? Yet another reason to dislike the older Gett brother.
“Yes,” she said, looking anything but. “Thank you.”
“This isn’t any of my business,” I said, sounding like anyone about to butt into your business, “but I can’t stand to see Rue bully you into leaving town.” I took a paper towel from the dispenser, wet it, and handed it to her.
The girl choked back a sob. “Rue isn’t bullying me. She’s done nothing but try and help me.” She rubbed her belly. “But I messed up, and … I don’t know what to do …”
“You didn’t mess up alone,” I said, anger radiating in my voice. “Danny damn well has a more than equal share in this.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Danny? Danny Gett? What does he have to do with this?”
My own brow furrowed as well. “Isn’t he the father?”
Through her distress she managed a loud laugh. “Danny? Just gross.”
“Oh, I thought … never mind.”
Her gaze turned wistful. “The Getts, most of them at least, have been wonderful since …” She patted her stomach again. “At first, I was so excited, but now …”
I swallowed. As much as I wanted to give her advice, I didn’t have any experience with pregnancy, let alone experience in being run out of town—which was surprising, considering the water tower incident. “It will be okay,” I lied for her sanity’s sake. “If you need anything …”
“I know what people are saying about your grandpa.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t believe it. Jack’s a good man.”
“You know him well?”
She shrugged. “I worked at Lucky before Rue hired me to be her office manager. Now,” she hesitated, her face twisting, “with the baby, I’m not sure I’ll still …”
“You can come back to Lucky anytime,” I said. Jack might disagree, but so what? Nancy Jeanne needed a job. Baby or not. I wouldn’t allow the Getts to destroy this girl. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She smiled through her pain. “Thank you. I heard many things about you from...” Heat stained her reddened cheeks. “I’m glad they aren’t true.”
I grimaced. But before I could ask what she meant, Danny Gett burst into the bathroom. He glanced at Nancy Jeanne and then to me. “You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Service just ended.” He took her hand in his, anger in his eyes when he looked at me. “We should go, before …”
Her head moved up and down again wordlessly. She let Danny lead her away, only once looking back over her shoulder. She gave me a halfhearted smile and then disappeared into the throng of mourners ready to put Roger in the dirt.