CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Nadine
Madeline was driving me from the condo over to Cinnamon House for another evening of girl talk, drinking wine, and eating too many snacks.
Did I miss Reynolds on the nights he was with Whitney?
Of course. But I was enjoying having a lot of girlfriends for the first time in my life.
Madeline was always happy to come and get me.
“About damn time,” she’d said when I’d called her the first time. “You realized you can still have a life while you’re his Cinnamon Girl.”
I turned to her. “Thanks again for coming to get me.”
She waved a hand in the air like it didn’t matter. “No big deal, babe.”
“It’s a big deal to me.”
My phone rang. I immediately thought it was Reynolds and was pleased that for once I wasn’t disappointed when it wasn’t.
I didn’t want it to be him. I wanted to go hang out with the girls at Cinnamon House.
I was looking forward to it. I’d formed a good relationship with them, especially Daisy and Abbi.
And Madeline, of course. I liked Glory, Bethany, and Nora, too, but didn’t feel as close to them as the other girls.
Nora, especially, was very sweet, but she always seemed so busy. And a little stressed out.
But the name on my phone screen surprised me. It was Jelly. Excited to hear from her, I answered immediately.
“Hey you,” I said.
She didn’t answer for a minute, and I thought the call had dropped until I realized she was crying. “Nadine,” she choked out between sobs. “I need help. So bad.”
“What is it?” I was horrified. I’d only ever seen Jelly cry once, and it was when her dog had passed away of old age the year before. “What’s happened?” I cringed thinking about how the last time I’d seen her was when she’d gotten sick before Mark’s wedding to Jessica Huber.
“I…it’s a long story. Listen, I’m in West Bay. I took the bus. Can you come get me? Or pay for an Uber if I come to you?”
I turned to Madeline who wasn’t even trying to pretend like she wasn’t listening. “Can we stop by the bus station? A friend of mine from Puckins is there and needs help.
She frowned but nodded. “Of course.” She changed lanes and took the next right turn. “Tell her we’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I did.
“Oh, thank God,” she gasped out. “Stay on the phone with me? There are some scary-looking guys here.”
My God. If Jelly was scared of them, they must be terrifying. My best friend wasn’t scared of anyone or anything.
I talked to her about nothing important until I saw the bus station come into view. “We’re about to pull up, okay?”
“Thanks,” she said and hung up.
“Real quick,” I said as I saw her standing on the concrete landing, “there are a couple of things about Jelly you should know.”
Madeline looked scandalized. “Jelly?”
“Yeah. That’s what she goes by. And she dresses weird and wears strange makeup, okay?”
“Gotcha. Well, now I don’t have to ask which one she is.”
I looked and realized Jelly was wearing an oversized black Grateful Dead T-shirt and a tutu over what seemed to be a spandex bodysuit that was covered with thick black and white stripes.
She was wearing Doc Martens and pasty white makeup with black lipstick to complete the look.
Her shiny black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck.
Tears had made tracks in her makeup so that her skin showed through in places.
Madeline pulled up right beside her. She rolled down her window. “Get in.”
Jelly’s eyes shot to the passenger side to see if I was in the car, then she nodded and picked up a large duffel bag that had been at her feet.
She walked down the stairs, throwing a glance over her shoulder.
I looked to see what she was staring at and saw a group of five or six biker guys.
They were covered in tattoos, had lots of piercings, and were huge and muscular.
They were kind of hot, actually, but also terrifying.
I averted my eyes when one turned and made eye contact with me.
“Hurry,” Madeline said. She’d spotted the bikers, too.
Jelly opened the back door, flung her bag in, and hopped in. Madeline barely waited for her to close the door before pulling away from the curb and out into traffic.
Jelly collapsed against the back seat after putting her seat belt on. The sounds of her crying increased.
“Jelly,” I asked hesitantly, “do you want to talk about it?”
“Not yet,” she said. “Give me a couple of minutes, okay? I’m just so relieved, right now.”
“Because we saved you from becoming some biker’s old lady?” Madeline asked.
Jelly snorted. “Yeah. That and some other reasons, too.”
We were all quiet on our way to Cinnamon House.
As we rode through downtown West Bay, I turned to see Jelly’s reaction to everything. I wasn’t sure she’d ever been here before. If she had, it had been a long time. I was relieved to see that she’d stopped crying. Jelly and tears just… didn’t go together.
Her bright blue eyes were wide, as she took everything in. And when we pulled into The Estates at South neighborhood, she gasped.
“What the fuck, Nadine? You live here?” she gaped at the houses. “This looks like something out of a movie.”
“I don’t live here now,” I said. “But I did for a while.”
She frowned. I hadn’t told her about the whole Cinnamon Girl thing. “What have you gotten into?”
Madeline and I exchanged a look.
“How about we talk about what’s going on with you first. We can talk about me another time.”
She gave me a look, but didn’t comment.
Madeline pulled into the driveway and drove under the wisteria-covered brick arch that led to the garage. We gathered our things and went inside.
Jelly was too busy staring at her surroundings to notice all the women staring at her.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and frowned. All the girls were already here. I turned slowly, scared of who might be coming down the stairs.
Madeline beat me to it. “Fuck. Carmen’s here.”
“Well, that’s what I always want to hear when I enter a room.” Carmen made a face and flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder. Then she spotted Jelly and her eyebrows went up.
***
“Start talking,” Carmen said, arms crossed over her chest. She leaned against the island in the kitchen. Madeline, Jelly, and I all sat on stools pulled up to the other side of the granite slab. The other girls were all watching a movie while they drank wine and ate delicious appetizers.
Jelly sighed. “Well,” her eyes darted to me, “you remember that day at Mark’s wedding to that bitch Jessica Huber?”
I nodded. “Duh. Yes, I remember when my boyfriend of, like, eight years married someone else.”
“Sorry.” She patted my hand. “You remember I got sick, right?”
I nodded again.
“I was pregnant.”
I gasped.
“Yeah. It was kind of a shock.”
“I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
“I wasn’t. Not really. But you know I had liked Ethan Woodridge since…” she thought about it.
“Kindergarten?” I supplied.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Well, we started hooking up the summer before last. We didn’t really date, just had sex. Anyway, he left to go back overseas a couple of months before Mark and Jessica’s wedding.”
Ethan was a soldier. He’d gone right into basic training after we all graduated from high school.
Jelly looked at me, her eyes full of pain. “I found out I was pregnant right after he left, but I tried to hide it.” She sighed. “I finally had to tell my grandparents, though.”
Jelly’s grandparents had raised her. They were very religious and would not have looked kindly on a pregnancy out of wedlock. “What’d they say?” I cringed.
“Nothing good,” she confirmed. “They didn’t want me to get an abortion, but they didn’t want me to have the baby, either.”
Carmen made a face. “What the hell did they want, then?”
Jelly shrugged. “I’m still not sure. I guess they wanted me to get an abortion and not tell them about it?” She shrugged. “But that’s not what I did. I took a stand and told them I was keeping the baby.”
Madeline sucked in a breath. “What happened?”
“They kicked me out. And I got fired from both of my jobs.” She buried her face in her hands.
“Why? Because they found out you were pregnant?” Carmen was pissed.
“Yes. Puckins is… backwards,” she said.
“Where’d you go?” I asked.
“Your mama let me stay with her. Then…” she choked on the words, “I lost the baby, anyway.”
“Oh no, Jelly.” I rubbed her back. “That’s awful.”
She nodded. “I know I don’t look like a good candidate to be anyone’s mom, but I was excited.”
“Looks don’t matter, Jelly,” I said.
“Hell, yes, they do,” Carmen said. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t have been a good mom because of how you look, but anyone who thinks looks don’t matter is fooling themselves.”
We all stared at her. Jelly side-eyed me. “You know how I’m never scared of anyone?”
“Yeah.”
“This is the second time today I’ve been scared of people.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “So, first the motorcycle gang and now Carmen?”
“Yep.”
Carmen chuckled but did nothing to dispel the fear. “Let me guess. Now you need a job and a place to stay?”
Jelly nodded.
“Did Mama kick you out?” I was horrified.
Jelly nodded. “But not in a bad way.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Madeline asked, eyes wide.
“She just said there wasn’t anything for me in Puckins.
She made me take all my savings out of the bank so I could start over here in West Bay.
And she drove me to the bus station. She said I needed to have a long talk with you, Nadine, and do the same thing you’re doing.
” She got quiet. “What exactly are you doing?”
Before I could say anything else, Carmen broke in. “What’s your real name?”
“Ray Ann.”
Carmen made a face. “My God. People from your town have hideous names.” No one contradicted her. “What do you want to do with your life?”
“Jelly’s real smart,” I stated.
“Really,” Madeline corrected automatically. “Jelly’s really smart.”
I sighed. In times of stress or excitement, my grammar reverted back to pre-Madeline and pre-Lonnie Maitland days.