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Authors: Stephanie McAfee

Down and Out in Bugtussle (21 page)

BOOK: Down and Out in Bugtussle
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“We went to a concert,” I tell him.

“I’m sorry, Coach Hatter,” Stacey says. “I only had two tickets, but you could’ve ridden up there with us. I didn’t know.”

“You could’ve ridden in the back of the Iroc, Hatt,” I tell him, and everyone starts laughing. “With the liquor bottles.”

“You would’ve given me Ace’s ticket, wouldn’t you, sweetie?” Logan Hatter asks, and poor Stacey looks nervous and confused.

“Uh…,” she says, then takes a big bite of her hot dog.

“No, she wouldn’t have, Logan Hatter!”

“Who did y’all see?” Chloe asks.

“Poison and Def Leppard,” I answer because Stacey is still chewing.

“Classic rock,” Dax says, and Stacey gives him an odd look.

“Well, how was it?” Lilly asks.

“I almost OD’d on ibuprofen and aspirin today,” I say. “Does that give you a good idea of how great it was?” I stand up. “Who needs another drink?”

Logan, Lilly, and J.J. say that they do and Dax asks if he can please have another cup of ice cream.

“I can get you a bigger cup, Dax,” I tell him. “And refill it as many times as you want.” I glance at Chloe, who is giving me a nervous look.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t need a drink, thank you.”

“Well, of course you don’t, Mrs. Stacks,” Stacey says. “You can’t drink while you’re pregnant!” I don’t know if she’s really talking that loud or if I just imagine it, but as soon as she gets to the end of that sentence, it seems as if time comes to a screeching halt. Everyone
on the porch stares at Stacey, who is in the process of carefully applying a spoonful of spinach dip to a chunk of Hawaiian bread. I look at Ethan Allen, all the way out in the yard, and even he is staring. Or maybe he just caught a glimpse of everyone’s expression and is wondering what’s going on.

22

“W
hat in the world are you talking about, Dewberry?” Logan asks. He starts laughing, then stops. J.J. is looking at Chloe who is staring at Stacey Dewberry like she wants to kill her. I peek at Lilly, who shrugs and shakes her head as if to say,
Don’t look at me to say anything.

“Who told you that?” Chloe asks, giving me an evil look. I shake my head and put up my hands.

“No one,” Stacey says, oblivious as she forks a meatball and then a small square of cheese. She looks up at Chloe. “You were sick and ill as a hornet for a while and now you’ve got the happy, healthy glow of a woman with child. It’s unmistakable.” Stacey sees the look on Chloe’s face and then glances at J.J. “Oh my stars,” she mumbles. She puts down the meatball. “Oh no. I can’t believe I just did this.” J. J. Jackson doesn’t say a word, just sits and looks at Chloe. Stacey stands up and picks up her plate. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Stacks. I really am. Mr.
Sheriff Jackson, I don’t know what to say.” Stacey is on the verge of tears, but she continues. “I just assumed that if I could figure it out, anybody could.” She pauses, then looks like she wants to die. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t mean anything by that.” No one says a word because, hell, what could any of us say? “Boy, I have fubared this get-together beyond belief,” she says, and then quickly walks away.

“Fubared?” Lilly looks at Logan, who shrugs and looks at Dax.

“Let him tell you.” She looks at Dax expectantly.

“Fucked up beyond all recognition,” Dax whispers.

“Well, it certainly is that,” Logan remarks.

“Shut up, Hatter!” I hiss. “Stacey!” I call. “Stacey! Wait!” I look at Chloe. “I swear I didn’t say a word to her. You have to believe me.” Chloe looks mad as hell and doesn’t say a word. She shakes her head and her bottom lip starts to tremble. I watch Stacey toss her plate in the garbage and walk out the gate. I want to go after her but know I can’t walk away from Chloe.

Ethan Allen appears on the edge of the porch. “What’s going on up here?” he asks. “Everything okay?” I look down at him, shake my head “No,” and he says, “Okay, well, I’m going to go over here and, I don’t know, just go on over…Okay, so I’ll talk to y’all later.” He makes haste back to the picnic table.

“Chloe,” J.J. says, and I bristle at the tone of his voice. “Could I please have a word with you in private?”

“Of course,” Chloe says. She stands up, puts on a brave face, and looks at Dax. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I wish you all the best. Thank you so much for your service. I will pray for your safety every night.” She looks at me. “I have to go now.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, son,” J.J. says to Dax and, without making eye contact with anyone else, turns to follow Chloe into the
house. I look at Lilly, who shakes her head, and we all sit in silence for a minute.

“Well, holy shit,” Dax says finally. Ethan Allen walks up and sits down in one of the loungers.

“Where’s Jalena?” I ask.

“Talking to Lulu Cadle about a birthday party,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“For real,” Logan Hatter says emphatically. “What is going on?”

I look at Lilly and she stares back at me like a frightened kitten. “I’m not saying a word,” she says.

“About what?” Ethan Allen asks.

“Well, it would appear the cat is already out of the bag, sister,” Logan says to Lilly, then looks at me with his eyebrows raised.

“What cat and what dang bag?” Ethan Allen practically shouts. I look at him and then at Logan, thinking they’re worse than most women about being nosy and gossiping.

“Apparently, Chloe is pregnant,” Logan tells him. “According to Stacey Dewberry, anyway. Which isn’t really that big of a deal seeing as how they’ve been together for what? A year now?”

“So what’s the problem?” Ethan Allen wants to know.

“The problem appears to be that J.J. wasn’t aware of her, uh, condition,” Dax observes.

“Well, he’s damned sure aware of it now,” Logan says. “That’s gonna be a weird ride home.” He looks at me. “How is it that Stacey Dewberry knows about this and J. J. Jackson doesn’t?”

“There’s a million-dollar question,” Dax says, putting down his ice cream cup and picking up his beer.

“She wanted him to propose first,” I say, and the men all look off in different directions.

“Logan, you can’t tell anyone at school about this,” Lilly says. “Chloe is really concerned that if the wrong people find out about this, they might try to get her fired.”

“Pffft,” Logan says, waving his hand. “Have you ever known me to hang out with the wrong people? She isn’t going to lose her job, but why the hell didn’t she just tell him? This was a hell of a way for him to find out. I thought y’all sat around planning for stuff like this your whole life.”

“Who exactly is ‘y’all’?” Lilly asks, clearly offended.

“Women!” Logan says. “Is this not the kind of thing y’all get together and talk about for days on end? How to break news like this like with a little bitty football or with some little pink baby shoes or something.”

“Logan Hatter!” Lilly says. “It is so painfully obvious why you’re still single.”

“Well, he has a point,” Dax says, and Lilly glares at him. “What? I’m just saying J.J. shouldn’t have had to find out like this. It was kind of like he was the last one to know.”

Lilly’s shoulders slump. “I guess you’re right.” She looks at me. “We failed Chloe on this one.”

“We told her to tell him,” I remind her. “We told her and told her and then we told her again.”

“We tried to drop him a hint,” Lilly says. “But that didn’t work out very well, either.”

“In the hot dog aisle at Walmart,” I say, giggling at the thought. “And Chloe crawled all over our asses, so we backed off.” Lilly recounts the story, and the guys think it’s pretty funny.

“Well, he was going to pop the question anyway as soon as she
got things squared away in her new house,” Dax says, and Lilly scowls at him. “He didn’t want to stress her out even more than she already was with all the renovations and stuff she had going on.”

“How do you know that?” Lilly demands.

“He was looking at a jewelry store paper one day when I walked into his office,” Dax says, like it’s absolutely no big deal whatsoever. “He’s already got the ring picked out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dax looks confused. “Why, because—I don’t know, Lilly, hell, I didn’t know all this was going on. I’m sorry, baby.” He puts his arm around her and she leans into him.

“I’m sure everything will work out just fine,” I say. “I hope. And Dax, I’m sorry all of this went down tonight.”

“Not a problem,” he says. “It proved to be quite a distraction, which I very much appreciate.” That comment hits me like a ton of bricks. He’s going to Afghanistan. While military budget cuts are all over the news, Dax Dorsett is going to a war zone.

“Hey, Ace,” Logan says. “If neither one of us is married by the time we’re thirty-five, let’s have a baby together—you want to?” I look at him and he grins and everyone starts laughing.

“Sure, Hatter,” I tell him. “I’d love that. You’re so romantic.”

“Great,” he says, clearly proud of himself for making a funny. “We can start practicing tonight if you want.” And everyone laughs even harder. Except me. I just stand there and look at him, shaking my head.

“Hatt, you’re too funny for your own good, buddy,” Ethan Allen says, reaching over to slap him on the back.

“I have to call Stacey Dewberry,” I say.

“She can join us, too, if she wants,” Hatter says.

“Hatt,” I say, rolling my eyes, “has anyone ever told you to quit while you’re behind?”

“Well, that depends on who I’m behind,” he says, winking at Ethan Allen. I roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen where I pick up the phone and call Stacey. It doesn’t even ring, just goes straight to voice mail. I call her two more times and get the same thing. Finally, I leave her a message, telling her everything is fine and to please call me whenever she can. I put the phone down and think about Freddie Dublin. Thank God he didn’t show up tonight.

As it gets closer to midnight, people start drifting toward their cars. Everyone shakes Dax’s hand, pats him on the back, and promises to send care packages. As the crowd thins, I find myself sitting way too close to Logan Hatter. He catches me looking at him and winks at me, then slips his arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I tease, getting up to say good night to the last of the partygoers. Dax and Lilly walk up and tell me they’re calling it a night as well. I can’t imagine how Lilly must be feeling right now, her expression unreadable as she says good night. Dax thanks me again and again for hosting such a lively get-together and I tell him again and again that it’s the very least that I could do. After they leave, I unplug my Christmas lights and turn to see Logan Hatter still sitting on the swing.

“You wanna come in?” I ask. “There’s no one left to drive you home.”

“Oh dang,” he says. “I guess I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

“Your game needs some work, Hatter,” I tell him with a smile.

“We’ll see about that later, sweet-cheeks.” He follows me inside, has a seat in the living room, and pats the sofa cushion next to him. “C’mon, Ace, you know you want to come snuggle up over here where it’s warm.” Despite my better judgment, I get two beers out of the fridge and join him on the couch. And tonight, I decide not to be lonely.

23

T
he next morning, I wake up at the crack of dawn and the first thing I see is a shaft of light drifting in through the curtains shining on Logan Hatter’s shockingly white ass. Oh shit! After throwing some covers over that pasty rump, I slide out of bed and creep down the hallway. I startle Buster Loo out of his slumber on the couch, and he jumps up on all four paws and commences with a first-class barking fit. I pick him up and try to pet him out of his guard-dog rage, but he wiggles out of my arms onto the sofa where he sits and stares at me as if to say, “How dare you!” I pick up my phone and think about texting Lilly, but she’s got so much going on today that I don’t want to saddle her down with tales of my sexcapades with Logan Hatter. Or maybe I just don’t want her to know. I’m not sure. I make a pot of coffee and think about that. And I think about Logan Hatter.

I’m almost as tall as he is, but not quite. He’s got a pudgy beer
belly that I find endearing and a receding hairline, which he keeps covered with a baseball cap. He’s a good guy even if he does fancy himself to still be the stud he thought he was at twenty-two. And he chases women accordingly. But he’s single, so I guess he’s entitled. Maybe Logan Hatter is just what I need right now, an easy no-strings-attached good ole boy. I pull my housecoat tighter around me and think about last night. Sleeping with him is like sitting in front of someone else’s fireplace. It’s warm and cozy, but regardless of how pleasant it always seems to be, you know you can’t sit there forever.

BOOK: Down and Out in Bugtussle
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