Small Town Rumors(3)

“Wonder if he knows something?” Lettie whispered.

“He might,” Cricket said out of the side of her mouth and then waved. “Hi, Amos.”

“Y’all hear that Jennie Sue Baker is back in town and she came in on the bus just before noon?” He raised his voice. “I just saw her riding in the car with her mama a few minutes ago. Wonder what’s goin’ on?”

“Come on over here and sit with us,” Lettie said. “How’s things at your bookstore?”

“Doin’ right good.” He slid into the booth beside Cricket. “I heard that this new group of kids comin’ up into the world is goin’ back to real books rather than readin’ them on them damned devices that they hold in their hands. Millennium, they call them. Don’t know how they got that name hung on them, but it helps my business. Vinyl could be next. I got to be at the library here in a minute, but wanted to grab some lunch to take with me.”

Cricket bit back a sigh and slipped her camera back into her purse. Like lots of older men, he used too much shaving lotion and talked too loud. Her brother, Rick, said it was because when folks got older, their senses of smell and hearing both deteriorated.

“What have you heard about Jennie Sue comin’ back to town? She hasn’t been here in at least two years,” Lettie said.

Cricket perked right up. Amos had a tell when he had good gossip—he puffed out his chest so that his bibbed overalls didn’t have a single wrinkle in them. And he grinned even bigger than usual, showing off perfectly white dentures in a face that looked like a cross between Andy Rooney and Mickey Rooney.

“Just that she showed up on the bus. I can’t imagine why she’d ride a bus all the way from New York City when Dill has an airplane that he could fly up there and bring her home in style. She’s still married to that fancy-shmancy diamond dealer, isn’t she?” Amos asked.

“Last I heard, but I’ll phone Mabel tonight and see what she knows.” Lettie’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Maybe she’s goin’ to work for Dill in the company.”

“Who knows?” Amos’s grin got even bigger. “Right now, Dill is off in his private plane with that business lady from the bank, so he’s probably not thinkin’ about hirin’ Jennie Sue for a job in the oil company.” His phone pinged, and he worked it up from the bib pocket of his overalls. “Got a text from Nicky, that new gardener Charlotte hired. He says the news is that Jennie Sue is here to help plan Dill’s birthday party. You goin’ to it, Lettie?”

“Hell, no! Only way I could get in is if I crashed my pickup truck through the front doors, and I ain’t willin’ to damage my truck. I’ve had it forty years now, and I’m right partial to the way my butt sits in the driver’s seat. You goin’ to ride that tricycle of yours to the party?”

Amos chuckled. “I ain’t holdin’ my breath for an invitation. What about you, Cricket? Reckon Jennie Sue will invite you to the big wingding?”

Cricket snorted. “That ain’t never goin’ to happen. I wonder why there’s never a big party for Charlotte?”

“Never say never or it’ll come back and bite you right on the butt.” He shook a finger at her. “Charlotte hates her birthday because it proves she’s another year older.”

“Gravity eventually gets us all,” Lettie said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Amos agreed. “Pulls us right into the grave. Change of subject here—y’all two got the Friday-night book-club selection read yet?”

“Oh, yeah.” Cricket nodded.

“Me and Nadine finished it last week. We’re ready for the discussion,” Lettie said.

“That’s great. Hey, I heard Wilma done decided to retire from housekeepin’. Y’all find anyone to replace her?”

“Not yet, but we’re lookin’. Got someone in mind?” Lettie put another bite of ice cream in her mouth.

“No, but I’ll keep my ears open. Charlotte hired two new girls out at the Baker place this week. If they don’t work out, maybe you could get them,” Amos answered.

“I don’t want her leftovers.” Lettie’s tone could have chilled Amos’s tea. “So, you believe this crock of bull about Jennie Sue bein’ here for her daddy’s birthday?”

“Not for a minute,” Amos answered.

Lettie rubbed her hands together. “That’s the way I figure it. She wouldn’t have had to ride a bus for more’n thirty hours, and she would’ve needed a U-Haul truck to get her baggage to the house. Who knows? It might be good enough to put Charlotte in her place once and for all. There’s for sure something goin’ on, and I intend to find out what it is.”

“Me, too.” Amos nodded.

Cricket slid out of the seat and adjusted her apron. “My late granny used to say that Charlotte comes from a long line of women who think their asses are gold plated.”

“My sweet little wife”—Amos glanced up at the ceiling—“before the angels came to get her, used to say that if you could buy Charlotte for what she’s worth and sell her for what she thinks she’s worth, you’d make a fortune. Gert Wilson at the grocery store might know something more about all this Jennie Sue stuff, since one of those girls Charlotte hired is her niece.”

“Bless Gert’s soul.” Lettie made a noise with her tongue like an old hen calling to her chickens. “If she hadn’t been born as ugly as a mud fence, she might have gotten a better job than checkin’ at a grocery store all these years. She’s got a heart of gold, but . . .”

“But brains can only take a person so far.” Amos slid out of the booth. “See you ladies later. Looks like Elaine has my tea and call-in order all ready. It’s time to be openin’ the library for the afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you show him them pictures?” Lettie asked.

“Because I’m being selfish until we find out what she’s doin’ here,” Cricket declared.

“Don’t get your hopes up about that happenin’ anytime soon. Them Bakers will close up ranks with all the Sweetwater Bitches and we’ll never find out a blessed thing,” Lettie said.

“I can always hope that the almighty Jennie Sue Baker will be brought down a few notches. Got to get back to work,” Cricket said as she slid out of the booth.



Rick wiped sweat from his brow as he settled into the driver’s seat of the bookmobile and drove it toward Bloom. It had air-conditioning when it was running, but with the budget cuts, he’d been told to use the air only when he was driving from one place to another. The patrons had learned to get their books checked in and get more in a hurry.

He’d just gotten it parked in the library lot when his sister, Cricket, pulled up in the truck. Twenty years ago, when he was ten years old and it was new, it had been red, but now it had more rust spots than paint. Still, it was the only vehicle they owned, and the engine still purred like it did when it was brand-new.

She tossed the truck keys his way, and he caught them midair. He limped over to the library door and shoved the bookmobile keys into the return slot for books. On Mondays the town’s small library was closed by the time he got home from his run up to Roby. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he was back from Longworth in plenty of time to take the keys inside before Amos closed up.

“So did you hear the latest news?” Cricket asked as she got into the passenger seat.

“I hope it’s that the library got a big donation, and we can take the bookmobile back to Sylvester again. Those little old folks can’t get down here to the library, and I’d love to be able to visit with them again.” He started up the engine and headed east of town.

“That would be a miracle, not news,” Cricket said. “Jennie Sue Baker came back to town. She got off the bus right in front of the café, and I’ve even got pictures to prove it.”

“So?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

“Jennie Sue, the queen of Bloom High School, cheerleader and all the trimmings? In my class—don’t you remember her?”

“Sure I do, but how’s it news that she’s back in town? Her folks live here.” Rick remembered Jennie Sue Baker very well. She’d been one of the rich crowd, but she never came off as uppity or too good to talk to those who weren’t on her social level, in his opinion.

“She was on a bus,” Cricket said.

“I came home on a bus. It’s a means of transportation,” Rick said.

“Not for the almighty Bakers of Bloom, Texas,” Cricket sighed. “The last time she came to town, for one of our class reunion  s, she arrived in a bright-red sports car with her diamond-dealin’ husband. Her daddy has an airplane, and her mama drives a brand-new Caddy all the time. I mean, like she trades it every fall for a newer model.”

“And this all is your business why?” Rick asked.

“Because I don’t like her. And because someday I’m going to be somebody that looks down on her like she did me in high school.”

Rick laughed again. “Let the rich do their own thing and mind your own business, Cricket. Be happy where you are.”