Chapter 15
STARLA
I checked the time before I dialed and laughed when Moe answered on the first ring.
“Are you stalking me? I was about to call you, I swear.”
“I’m not stalking you, but it would be nice if you’d return a text, so I’d at least know you’re alive.”
“Don’t you know I’m too mean to die?”
“You probably are, so maybe I was checking to make sure everyone else was alive and you weren’t locked up for homicide.”
“You don’t think I learned my lesson the first two times?” Moe asked sarcastically. I realized she was somewhere people could overhear when she added, “Yes, twice. Don’t force me to make you lucky number three.”
“What poor, unsuspecting person are you threatening now?”
“I’m babysitting.” In the background, two young girls argued that they didn’t need a sitter before Moe barked, “If you don’t be quiet, I’ll drown you and tell the cops you slipped and fell into the tub.”
“Where are you?”
“I’ve got Farrah’s girls with me at the salon,” Moe explained. Then, changing the subject, she asked, “Did you call to check in and make sure I’m okay, or were you calling to gloat about that glow I’m sure you still have?”
I giggled before admitting, “Yes, I still have the glow.”
“Has he taken you on an official date yet, or are you two just doing the mambo and keeping it under wraps?”
“I’m sure everyone knows by now because we’re not exactly trying to keep it a secret,” I explained.
“Surprisingly, Sarge is an affectionate guy, and he’s always holding my hand or touching my leg when we sit together.
The other day, he pulled off my shoes and gave me a foot rub while we sat on the porch, talking to his brothers and a few of his nephews about what we need to do to prepare for the fall season on the farm. ”
“I’m not sure what I’m more jealous of - the glow or the random foot rubs.
” Moe hummed. “I’m getting a glorious foot rub right now, though, so I only hate you for the glow.
” One of the girls asked a question, and Moe snapped, “Mind your business, minion. A glow is a glow, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that. ”
“When is Farrah’s old man going to realize that letting you have any influence over those poor, defenseless, innocent children is a bad idea?”
“I think he’s realized that I’m the perfect influence–a strong, independent woman who takes no shit and can tell them stories about prison so they’ll mind their p’s and q’s and keep their asses out of trouble.”
“That’s not a bad take. I’m impressed. How long have you been working on that argument?”
“Since the time I dropped them off and they told him I rolled down my window and cussed out the driver next to us at a red light for driving with her phone in her hand.”
“And what did he say about that?”
“He told me this was Texas, and I’d better watch my ass or I’d get shot, but he still agreed that anyone who drives while staring at their phone should get it shoved up their ass with Tabasco for lube.”
“That’s a visual I really didn’t need,” I muttered in disgust. “Eloquent as ever, Moe.”
“I’m a wordsmith. I’m thinking of starting a business selling my random thoughts on T-shirts and tumblers. What do you think?”
“Bumper stickers might make a nice addition to your inventory,” I suggested. “Maybe even hats.”
“You’re right!”
“So, now that we’ve talked over your present and future, can we talk about mine?”
“No, because you’re gonna rub in the glow, and my schedule is booked so full I don’t have time to drive to Kansas and beat you to death.”
I ignored the threat. “I’m shopping today and being followed by at least three women who aren’t nearly as inconspicuous as they think they are.”
“What?” Moe’s tone turned serious, and I knew she was considering the drive for an entirely different reason. “Where are you, and why haven’t you called for backup?”
“First of all, I did call for backup, but she didn’t text me back, and she’s six hours away.”
Moe ignored my sarcasm. “Can you take ‘em?”
I scoffed. “Yes.”
“Don’t use any weapons and make sure they swing first. I can’t believe I’m about to utter these words, but you should do it somewhere with witnesses.”
I laughed at the disgust in her voice. “If they were gonna jump me, they already would have. I’m not worried about that as much as I am curious about why they’re following me.
I’ve been all over town running errands this morning.
At first, there was just one woman, then there were two, and now I’m in the third store they’ve followed me to.
I think the number might be up to four.”
“What the hell?”
“I know, right? I’ve got groupies, and I’m not sure why.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’ve been walking around the grocery store for so long that my lettuce is starting to wilt, which is fine because I just realized we’ve got some growing in the cold tunnel anyway. It would be a waste of money to buy it here.”
“Okay, Farmer Joan, shut up about the produce and figure out who the fuck they are, why the fuck they’re following you, and what the fuck they want.”
“If I knew any of those things, we’d be having an entirely different conversation right now.”
“That’s it! I’m coming up there!”
“By the time you get here, the store will be closed, and they’ll be expected back at the trailer park before the gates lock for the night.
” I intentionally spoke loud enough for the woman at the end of the aisle to hear.
She narrowed her eyes and glared at me, forgetting she was supposed to be inconspicuous.
Since she’d made eye contact, I said, “Yes, I’m talking about you, weirdo. ”
“Didn’t you used to live in a trailer park?” Moe asked.
“Yes, that’s why I can use it as an insult.”
“Oh. Okay. What’s she doing? Did she pull out a shank and . . .”
“We’re in the cereal aisle, Moe, not the chow line,” I reminded her. I kept staring at the woman as I asked, “What’s your problem?”
“I’m not the one with a problem, sweetheart. You are.”
“What the fuck ever,” I said, waving my free hand toward her. “Run along now, sweetheart. I’m having a conversation about you and your friends, and I’d hate to hurt your little feelings and make you cry.”
“When Fabiella gets here, she’s going to . . .”
“Oh! Moe! I’ve finally reached the top of the dating food chain! I’ve got ex-wife drama!”
“I’d think that would be around the bottom–like finding out your guy’s got toe fungus or something, but you do you,” Moe said in disgust.
“His toenails are fine. Well-trimmed and cared for, even.”
“Ew. How do you know that?”
“I haven’t showered alone in almost two weeks, Moe.
I’m gonna notice shit like that.” Before Moe could reply, I pushed my cart closer to the woman glaring at me, forcing her to take a step back.
“I’m too old to play bullshit intimidation games, so either swing or shut the fuck up and go away.
Tell your friend she knows where I live, and if she has any lady balls, she’ll show up and confront me there. ”
“Lady balls?” Moe barked out a laugh.
“But we know she won’t because she’s smart enough to be terrified of Mrs. Brick, even though she’s obviously not smart enough to realize her ex-husband couldn’t care less whether she lives or dies.
Oh, and on that note, let her know that if she gives any of us trouble, I can make that second option happen. ”
“Oh, Mylanta, she’s gonna end up back in prison,” Moe mumbled.
“I am not!” I said firmly, walking past the woman, who still stared at me in shock. “You and I both know you can’t fix stupid, but you can muffle it with duct tape and a two-by-four.”
“Holy shit, you need a fucking keeper! I’m not sure what’s in the water in Kansas, but it’s got you acting crazy. I probably don’t have much time before I need to figure out how to bake a file into a cake and sneak it into the jail.”
“I’ll tell you what’s been in the water lately–me and Sarge.
That man loves some water play, let me tell ya,” I said, raising my voice enough for Fabiella’s friend to hear, even though I’d already walked six feet away.
“Just the other night, he showed me how long he could hold his breath. I have to say, it was long enough to make me a very happy woman.”
Moe was howling with laughter. I smiled, approaching the checkout lane while looking around for the other women who’d been tailing me.
Fabiella had to be holding something horrible over their heads to put them through the boredom I’d inflicted on them.
An hour at Tractor Supply, two hours at the wholesale store, and at least an hour at the market had to make them regret their friendship choices.
Maybe it had. I didn’t see the other two, so I hoped they’d reconsidered and left to find new friends.
The cashier greeted me, but her tone was off, making me wonder what else might be going on. As she started scanning my groceries, I noticed the store manager watching me from a distance. He stared like he thought I might be stealing–a look I’d seen often enough, considering my history as a thief.
Because I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I flashed him a wide smile that only got brighter when he frowned.
Obviously, if today’s adventures taught me anything, it was that I should take Ma up on her offer to accompany me to town for the weekly supply run, if for no other reason than to watch her eviscerate people like the woman in the aisle and the judgmental prick of a store manager.
When the cashier announced the total, I pulled the debit card I’d been assigned from my pocket and held it against the reader. I was surprised when the cashier reached out and took it from me.
“It has a chip,” I assured her.
“There’s something wrong with it,” the girl stammered. I recognized the lie by the bright flush creeping up her cheeks and her quick glance at the manager, who had moved even closer. She was terrified.
When the manager asked, “Is that your card, ma’am?” I realized the poor girl was terrified of me.
I turned around, filled with righteous anger for what felt like the first time in my life because I hadn’t actually done anything wrong.
I didn’t have pockets full of stolen merchandise, and I wasn’t even carrying a purse.
I obviously wasn’t shoplifting, and I had permission to use that card–complete with my own damn PIN.
“Of course it’s my fucking card,” I snapped. “Whose card do you think it is?”
“Can you step into the office with me?”
“I’ll stand right here until you get a cop with a warrant for my arrest . . .” I looked at the man’s nametag and snarled, “Mr. Carter.”
“Oh, fuck!” Moe yelled.
“Moe, honey, I’ve gotta let you go so I can make a phone call.”
“You better call me back as soon as . . .”
I didn’t hear the rest of her order because I hung up and hit the speed-dial button for Ma. The phone was still ringing when the manager reached out to grab my arm.
“Come with me.”
“If you touch me, I’ll have reason to defend myself, and you’ll end up eating through a straw for the next six months.”
“Well, that’s interesting,” Ma’s droll voice said through the speaker. “What’s wrong, Starla?”
“I’m at the market, and they seem to think I’m trying to use a stolen card to pay for the groceries.”
“Who are they?” Ma asked.
“The manager, Mr. Carter, and . . .”
“Johnny Carter?”
“Um . . .”
“Put me on speakerphone so he can hear me.”
“You already are.”
“Johnny Carter, you little shit, are you messing with my employee?” Ma growled. “I told your mama when you were four years old that if she didn’t take a paddle to your ass more often, you’d turn into an asshole, and lookie here–I was right!”
“Mrs. Brick, I . . .” the manager stammered.
“What makes you think she’s trying to steal from you?
You saw her in the store with me just last week when I frowned at you for staring at her ass.
And, by the way, I haven’t told Graham about that because I love your mama and wanted to protect our friendship, but now all bets are off.
I’m gonna let Graham know he needs to teach you another lesson in manners, because obviously you’ve forgotten the one he gave you when y’all were teenagers. ”
“Mrs. Brick, I was told that . . .”
“Since when do you listen to anyone but that wife of yours, Johnny? We all know she’s got you by the short hairs.”
“It was Fabiella. Some women have been following me around all morning, and one of them mentioned she was on her way up here.”
“Now, this I’ve gotta see. I’ve been waiting for someone to stomp a mudhole in her dimply ass for way too long! Don’t do anything before I get there. And Johnny?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I expect you to help bag her groceries and then walk them out to the truck yourself. If Fabiella or those trashy women she runs with harm a hair on her head, I’ll be blaming you for it. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny all but whimpered.
“And you’ll be apologizing too.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
“I’ll see you in the parking lot.”
“Ma, I can . . .”
“I will see you in the parking lot!” Ma snapped before hanging up.
“Well, that was a pleasant way to meet, wasn’t it?
” I asked sarcastically, smiling as I looked from the cashier to the manager and then glanced around at everyone who had stopped to listen to poor Mr. Carter get verbally emasculated by a woman he’d apparently known his entire life.
“I bet if we hurry, you can help me load the truck and then run and hide before she gets here.”
With a completely different expression on his face and more than a little respect in his tone, Mr. Carter rushed around the counter to stand beside the cashier. “Yes, ma’am!”
The checker’s face flushed so deeply I worried about her health. I reached out to take my debit card from her, whispering, “I know you didn’t do anything, honey. I’ll protect you from Mrs. Brick, okay?”
“Thank you!” she whispered urgently. “She’s terrifying.”
“I know, right?” I asked with a grin.
Ma was a force to be reckoned with, and she was on my side. It was a glorious feeling, and I planned to do everything in my power to ensure she stayed there.