Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Avery Jane
Even through texts, Dixon’s anxiety about doing and saying the right things around Stu was palpable.
Should I tuck in my shirt?
Is it ok to tell Stu jokes? Wait, forget that. All the jokes I know are about alcoholics or junkies
Maybe you should come watch Stu. I’m gonna fuck this up and then Bax will never let me see him again
Snap out of this, Dixon! You are NOT going to fuck it up. Just breathe and try to believe in yourself. I believe in you
Thank you
But are you sure?
Yes, I’m sure. Now go play with your son. Talk to him. Ask him to tell you a story
Dixon’s multiple and recurring messages slowed me down a bit, trying to catch up on my online orders, but when my phone stopped chiming every two minutes and I finally finished, I closed the shop and headed home.
The window guys had emailed and said they’d be out Friday morning to replace the one Cody had broken. That made me breathe a sigh of relief. Something about that broken window still felt unsettling to me.
God, what a creep! Just knowing Cody had been watching Dixon and me having sex made me want to throw up.
The night had been intimate and perfect, and Cody had to go and screw it up.
Although, I hoped he got a good look at what Dixon was working with because if he had, he was definitely suffering from penis envy.
Thinking about Cody suffering put a smile on my face.
I popped in my earbuds, Madonna’s rich voice filled my head, and I hummed along to “Holiday” as I walked home.
Gran and Mama were still in Jackson, drowning themselves in summer sales, and I’d left the van parked in front of Gran’s house, but walking seemed like a great idea.
It would give me time to clear my head and allow me to reset so I’d be ready for my date tomorrow night.
But fate had different plans.
As I passed Coffee Shot and the quaint, locally-owned shops along Main Street, I began to hear whispers. They eked their way past the music, even though the people gossiping tried to talk quietly.
Ramona Wheeler, a teller at the bank, whispered in Jethro Leavitt’s ear, “That Dixon Lee is nothin’ but a bad omen. Mark my words. You remember all the trouble he used to get up to?”
“Oh, I remember,” Jethro said. “Put his poor mama to shame, and his daddy probably died with a bad taste in his mouth.”
“Yeah,” Ramona agreed, scoffing and shaking her head as she pretended to peruse the cookbooks in Your Local Bookie’s window, “and then he knocks some girl up down in California or somewhere, and he abandons the child here with his family? Shame, shame.”
Jethro tutted and leaned in again to gossip some more, but I shut out the sound of his voice. Those people didn’t know Dixon. Not like I did. They had no idea the circumstances and hardships he’d had to survive in his life.
How dare they judge him like that?
They both noticed me at the same time, and their heads turned in my direction, but neither seemed to care that I might’ve overheard them.
I had always been a wallflower in town. I was quiet and usually kept to myself, so when I saw Marial and Betty Johnson with their heads together, I smiled and said a soft hello, but as I passed them halfway between the bookstore and Henly’s, my name came out of their mouths in hushed judgment, and I couldn’t help my reaction.
I gasped and stopped in my tracks, looking back at them.
They shut up quickly, but they both stood there staring.
“What?” I said. “What gossip could you possibly have about me? What have I ever done to you?”
Marial had the grace to smile sheepishly, embarrassed she’d been caught talking nonsense, but Betty just turned and walked away, her usual air of conceit wafting out behind her like a bad stench.
Her husband’s cattle farm had been the most successful in the area until Spitfire Ranch took away that distinction, and Betty’s demeanor turned from stuck-up to flat-out jealous, so it didn’t surprise me to find her talking about a member of the family who owned the rival business.
But it was wrong and harmful. What if Stu heard the gossip?
Heads turned all down Main Street, as far as my voice would carry, so I yelled, “You should all be ashamed of yourselves, talkin’ dirty about a man who’s fightin’ tooth and nail to redeem his bad deeds. Are all of you so righteous?
“Jethro, I’ve caught you more than once drunk and passed out in the alley behind my shop, and I helped you.
Got you coffee and sobered you up before you went home to face your wife.
And Ramona, I know it was you who took a Sharpie to the ads the community center put up for the LGBTQ support meetin’ over at Ace’s House. I saw you do it! Shame, shame on you!”
Turning on my heel, I huffed and stormed away, feeling somewhat vindicated, but then it occurred to me the reason they’d been talking about me, so I turned right back around.
“Y’all have no right to talk about who I spend my time with. None at all. So I fell in love with a man you don’t approve of. Why do you even care? You’re all a bunch of jerks, and you have nothin’ better to do than—”
The door to Henly’s popped open, and a fast hand grabbed me by my arm and yanked me inside.
“Hush, Avery Jane,” Mr. Henly whispered, the skin around his eyes and mouth crinkling with pity. “You’re just makin’ it worse.”
“Makin’ it worse?” I repeated, while my heart tried desperately to beat right out of my chest. “How am I doin’ that?”
“Just let them chew their cud. They’ll get over it and move onto the next thing quicker if you leave it alone.”
“They don’t have any right to talk about me like that. I’ve never done a bad thing to any one of them! What are they sayin’ about me?”
“Oh, you know.” He waved his hand toward the door. “People ’round here have long memories. They remember all the trouble your boyfriend got up to when he was young, but they also remember—”
Mr. Henly stopped and clapped his hand over his mouth, but I pulled it away.
“You better start talkin’, Mr. Henly. I’m your best customer, but I will order my candy online if you don’t fess up right this minute.”
He winced and looked at the floor, but then his old, brown eyes landed on mine. “They also remember your… your daddy. They remember how he treated your mama when he was drunk, and they’re sayin’ you’re gonna end up just like her. Alone and… miserable.”