Chapter 8
GEORGIA
After Mac left and I got my hormones under control…
okay, not under control at all, but at least I was away from that intense gaze and his potent pheromones, I unpacked, hanging up my clothes.
There were only five hangers in the small closet, so it didn’t take that long, but I had to lay everything else across every available surface so any wrinkles from the hasty repacking after the bag explosion at the airport would come out.
I didn’t find an iron, so I’d have to ask Mac sometime if he had one.
Or buy one because it was my new goal to avoid him for the entire time I was in town.
The only thing worse than having my hot new landlord/innkeeper see my panties and vibrator was if… well, I couldn’t think of anything.
Then I went through my skin care routine, brushed my teeth, flossed, put in my night guard and climbed under the thick down comforter. I was plugging in my cell to recharge and saw Keely’s text.
Are you there yet? Did you get eaten by a bear? If so, as your BFF can I have your fake leopard fur jacket?
She dropped me at the airport this morning, so she must’ve been waiting for the right excuse–death by hungry wildlife–to inherit that coat.
I’m here and in one piece.
Eaten by a bear? How about eaten out by Mac. I rolled my eyes at my naughty thoughts. The man was F. I. N. E. Fine. And I was a horny, single woman in the middle of a dry spell.
I saw your momma at the Piggly Wiggly when I ran out to get more queso dip fixins.
I rolled my eyes and all sexy thoughts went away.
What did she say?
Nothing, I ducked into the feminine hygiene aisle. Figured since she’s menopausal she might not head that way.
Smart thinking.
Sassy was with her. How does she get those curls so perfect?
Keely was referring to Sassy’s hair. It was naturally curly but every day she straightened it, then went at it with a curling wand so instead of pretty, natural ringlets she had beach waves past her shoulders. It took her an hour. Every day.
I’m fixin’ to get you the hot iron for your birthday.
Tommy and Sally Ann were with them. I swear they just came from a fashion shoot. Or church.
My nephew and niece were three and five. They always wore shirts with a collar. Sneakers were only for exercise and per my mother, dirt sullied their countenance, especially if a morning with the Lord was involved. Their presence at church wasn’t about faith but about being seen.
Unlike me. I had my hair up in a sloppy bun, no makeup, I was wearing Johnny’s hoodie and there was Cheetos dust on it.
Keely and I met at the Little Miss Calhan pageant when we were six.
I got runner up and Keely fell off the stage during her talent performance.
The only thing besides my weight and inability to baton twirl that my mother blamed for my perpetually poor pageant showing was Keely’s influence.
Which meant we became best friends and stayed that way, much to my mother’s discontent.
Looking back, she’d pretty much saved me.
So you looked normal.
Keely liked to look nice, but she didn’t base her life around her looks, especially since she had three wild, dirt-smudged boys who took up most of her time.
If Keely needed more queso, she wasn’t going to do her hair and makeup to go get it.
If she wanted melted cheesy goodness, nothing was going to stop her.
Exactly. You know how much your mother and sister hate to look normal.
They never looked normal. They always looked perfect, and I never once saw them eat chips and queso.
Yes, I definitely took after them, dressing nicely and looking as presentable as possible.
After three decades of constantly being told a woman never left the house without her face on, her hair done, and her clothes representing how much pride she had in herself, I felt naked without makeup and shoes without heels were uncomfortable.
I might be indoctrinated but I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid.
Gotta go. Nookie night.
I sighed, wishing nookie night for me meant more than my vibrator. And, God, thoughts of Mac sliding the belt out of his pants.
Lucky bitch. Tell Johnnie hey.
Will do. Knock their socks off tomorrow!
I set my cell on the small bedside table and turned off the light. Tomorrow. Fundraiser liaison for James Corporation. I could do this. I had to.