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Vice(49)

By:L.M. Pruitt


"That's all I'm asking right now." He waited while I eased the ring out of the box and slid it on my finger. "How's it feel?"

"Heavy." Both physically-I wasn't an expert on diamonds but this one  looked and felt like a whopper-and emotionally. I set the box on my  bedside table and sighed. "Weird. Unsettling."

"But not bad." He rolled to his back, tugging me over until I curled against his side, one leg slung over his. "Right?"

"Not bad." I ran my thumb over the band, wondering idly when the nausea and dizziness had passed. "Not bad at all."





CHAPTER TWENTY NINE





Somehow, I managed to keep the ring hidden for the next two days. It  required a little planning and maneuvering and bribery on the part of  the kids to keep the entire thing a secret but I made it happen. It  wasn't until Friday night, when I'd let Beth talk me in to a few drinks  too many, that I let my guard down, resting my left hand on the table as  if I didn't have upward of two grand hanging out on my fourth finger.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, is that what I think it is and if it is, when  the hell did this happen?" Beth grabbed my hand and yanked it across  the table, nearly pulling my arm out of my socket in her haste to  examine the ring. She shoved it under Dana's nose, practically  squealing. "You see this? You see this?"

"Not to be crude but I'm pretty sure they can see it all the way down in  Atlanta. Maybe even Savannah." Dana took a minute sip of her drink-she  only ever drank one and she stretched it out over the course of nearly  two hours until by the end she was drinking melted down ice cubes more  than an actual gin and tonic. "Abraham always did have good taste."         

     



 

"Why do you think I waited for her?" Abraham set a fresh drink in front  of me, kissing the tip of my nose even as he tossed a wink at the other  two. "You keep throwing them back like that and I'm going to have to  pour you in to bed tonight."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Doubt it'll be the last." I scowled when  Dana snickered and Beth let out a hooting laugh. "That's not what I  meant. Not everything is a sexual innuendo."

"Which in my opinion is a crying shame." Beth's laugh trailed off, her  face going suspiciously blank. "Don't look now but I'm almost certain  trouble just walked through the door."

I turned around, my drink forgotten when I spotted Lynn standing just  inside the door. "Wait. The cheerleading squad is supposed to be having a  sleepover at her house. If she's here, whose the adult in charge?"

Before any of them could answer, Lynn spotted us, marching across the  dance floor and straight to the booth, her bright red face twisted in an  ugly sneer. "I should have known I'd find you here."

"Since I'm almost certain this is where I told you I would be, I would  hope you would have remembered." I slid out of the booth, planting my  feet wide and crossing my arms. "What's this about, Lynn?"

"It's about your slut of a niece and-."

"You're gonna want to stop right there and take a few steps back, both  metaphorically and literally." I swallowed, determined for my voice to  be even when I spoke again and not shaking with barely restrained anger.  "First, I don't take very kindly to anyone talking about my family that  way, especially when it's a so-called adult talking about a child.  Second, because I don't take kindly to that sort of talk, you standing  so close I can see those few eyebrow hairs you missed when you were  tweezing means you're entirely too close for comfort."

"Well, maybe if she didn't act like a little tramp-." Lynn broke off  when I took a step forward, our noses practically touching. There was  something suspiciously like glee in her eyes when she hissed out, "You  wouldn't dare hit me. You do and all those little brats you're taking  care of will be shipped off to foster homes before you can post bail  from the charges you can bet your ass I'll file."

"Which would standup for all of five minutes when there's an entire bar  of witnesses who would be more than happy to talk about how you came in  here itching for a fight." Beth eased between us, pulling me back a few  steps, waiting until Abraham wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me  in place, before letting my arm go. Turning back to Lynn, she said,  "Now, maybe you can remember to act like an adult and not like a  teenager and try and explain what the hell is going on."

"Ms. Trailer Trash's niece has been sending texts to Robert Brady for  the last two weeks, knowing damn good and well Dominique is expecting  him to ask her to Homecoming." Lynn clenched her fists, her eyes bulging  out of her too red face. "He had the nerve to show up at my house  tonight with flowers for her, asking her if she would do him the ‘honor'  of going to the dance with him."

"You've lost your mind, haven't you?" I stared at her, understanding  what she was telling me and yet entirely certain she had to have made up  at least part of it in some sort of fever dream. "It's the stress of  being a single parent in this town. I get it, I do, but that's no reason  for you to attack a teenager this way."

"Your niece is a good for nothing slut trying to pull the wool over the  eyes of everyone in this town, just the way you did, but I'm not stupid  like the rest of these people." Lynn flung her arm in a wide arch,  encompassing the majority of the room who were watching as if the entire  scene was a Broadway play. "She's trash, the same as you, and I won't  have her around me or my daughter. I won't let her drag my Dominique  down and you can bet your ass I'm going to speak with Robert Brady's  parents and let them know what kind of girl she is so he doesn't make  the same mistake Abraham is making."

"If you think for one minute I'm making some kind of mistake, then I'm  going to have to side with Jeannie and conclude you've lost your mind."  Abraham paused, stroking my arm with one hand and laughing. "Actually,  I'm going to side with her regardless but especially against you. God  doesn't like ugly, Lynn, and if anyone ever needed proof of that, all  they'd have to do is look at your life."         

     



 

"And you don't need to concern yourself with Robert." A woman I vaguely  recognized from Friday night football, who always sat directly behind  the football team on the very first row, stood, a man who had to be her  husband rising with her. Crossing her arms, she stared down Lynn with  all the ferocity of a mama lion and said, "I knew Loretta Jackson and  while I haven't met her, I know of Jeannie Jackson. I know exactly the  kind of people they are and the kind of girl Tammy Jackson is and I  don't have a problem saying I'd much rather my son associate with  someone like the Jacksons than with someone like you."

"The Jacksons might have been poor but they were good, hardworking  people, and decent on top of it." Her husband, a great, big bear of a  man with a rumble of a voice to match, nodded at me before continuing.  "Tammy is smart and polite and exactly the sort of young lady we'd like  to see our son spend more time with and that's that."

"Why, Tammy comes and helps pull weeds and tend my garden every  weekend." A tiny slip of a woman I recognized as our neighbor at the end  of the street who was eighty years old if she was a day banged her cane  on the floor and pointed a gnarled, bony finger at Lynn. "Not like your  girl, who won't even help me out to my car with my groceries."

One by one, people around the room chimed in with stories about Tammy.  And Loretta. And, to my shock, me. I hadn't thought I'd contributed  anything to the town other than money since I'd moved back but  apparently I hadn't been paying attention. Otherwise I would have  remembered my offer to help old Mrs. Barlett with the yearbook staff and  the few afterschool sessions I'd done with the Literary Club and the  few hours I'd pitched in at the steakhouse when they were short in the  kitchen. I hadn't thought anything of any of it but everybody else had.

When the clamor died down, Abraham raised his voice, pitching it so  there was no way anybody missed a word he said, "You came out here  wanting to start a fight, Lynn, and that's fine. That's your right. But I  think it's safe to say if you pick a fight with Jeannie Jackson, you're  picking a fight with everybody in Cotton Creek."

The room broke out in hoots and applause, overshadowing whatever Lynn  tried to stammer out in response. After a few minutes of sputtering, she  simply shrieked and spun on her heel, pushing through the crowd and  stalking out of the bar. I stumbled backward to the booth, collapsing on  the seat and dropping my head between my knees.

"Hey, hey, hey-take a deep breath." Beth and Dana's faces appeared on  either side of my legs even as one of them pressed a cold, wet napkin to  the nape of my neck. Dana patted my shin and said, "The first time  standing up to Lynn is always the hardest. After that it gets easier.  She's still scary as hell but it's easier."