Grin and Beard It(11)

“He’s so rude,” Cletus said, watching our brother disappear into the crowd. “What if I wanted something to drink?”

“He’s fine.” Claire frowned at her hands, which had suddenly become very interesting. “He just doesn’t like Jethro much, but he’ll get over it eventually.”

“Jethro isn’t the problem,” Cletus contradicted, eyeballing Claire while I accepted a hug and exchanged a few quick words with Daisy Payton, my momma’s best friend. She was also the owner of Daisy’s Nut House in town, the local doughnut shop and diner.

“Your momma was so proud of you, Jethro.” Daisy gave me a big squeeze, then stepped back, holding my face in her hands. “Never forget how much that woman loved you.”

I nodded down at her, feeling a pang of guilt as I always did when someone mentioned my mother. I hadn’t been a good son, hadn’t made good choices until the last three years of her life.

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks so much for coming.”

“Such good manners now you’re no longer stealing cars.” She patted my cheek, giving me a large smile.

I gave her my very best who me? grin. “Well now, Mrs. Payton, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She glanced heavenward and sighed. “You’re too charming for your own good. I’m getting myself a drink. It’s been a long week. See y’all later.” She waved at Cletus and Claire before crossing to the bar.

The music finally started up and I glanced at the small stage. A few fellas were picking out the first lines to “Hey, Good Lookin’” by Hank Williams.

“That’s our cue.” Cletus lifted his chin toward the stage while offering his arm to Claire. “I’m on banjo duty tonight and Claire is singing. So we’re leaving you to fend for yourself.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

“Maybe . . .” A devilish glint flashed behind Cletus’s eyes. “Just so you know, I invited the Tanner twins.”

I froze, staring at my brother with immeasurable dismay, and croaked out, “You did what?”

I was glad I didn’t have a beer because I would’ve spit it out in horror.

“And Suzie Samuels. And Gretchen LaRoe,” Claire added, not trying to hide her amusement at my expense.

I grimaced, stepping forward, and asked through clenched teeth, “Did you invite all my old girlfriends?”

Claire threw her head back and laughed while Cletus answered, “What? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Did you go steady with one of these fine ladies?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“No, no, no.” Claire giggled. “Tell us. Tell us what you mean.”

I glowered at her, and she glowered back, but her uncontainable laughter ruined her glower.

Meanwhile, Cletus answered my question as though he were giving the matter serious thought. “Jethro, I merely invited some of your more colorful past exploits.”

“Oh my God.” I closed my eyes.

“Think of this evening as a retelling of a Christmas Carol. You are Ebenezer Scrooge, and you’re being visited by the awkward escapades of years past.”

“You are the worst. I’m getting you back for this. Both of you.” I opened my eyes to glare at my brother and Claire, to show them I meant business.

“It takes a lot to get you this riled up, so I certainly look forward to whatever retribution you have in store.” Claire patted my shoulder while Cletus ushered her toward the stage, leaving me alone in the sea of people.

Strike that, leaving me alone in a minefield of people.

I couldn’t bring myself to lift my eyes and instinct told me to sprint—not walk—for the exit. The problem was, this crowd was mixed. Childhood friends, friends of my momma, my siblings, extended family, work colleagues . . .

And fuck buddies from over a half decade ago.

If it had been six years ago, any inconvenience would’ve made me hop on my motorcycle and leave without thinking twice. But I couldn’t leave now. I wasn’t that person anymore. I had to stay.

“Jethro Winston, you owe me,” a shrill female voice accused from behind me.

I tensed, bracing myself. I didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t mean much. Just because I couldn’t place it didn’t mean I hadn’t known the woman at some point. Plastering a smile on my face, I turned to face the music.

Then I sighed in relief, my hand covering my heart. “That’s not funny, Ashley.”

Ashley Winston, my only sister. She’d left Green Valley for college some eight years ago, mostly because living with six heathen boys drove her insane. She’d made her home in Chicago after becoming a nurse. Last August she’d returned to Green Valley to help our momma go through hospice care. During Ashley’s six weeks in town, she’d fallen for my boss, Drew Runous.