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Authors: Genevieve Lynne

Secondhand Sinners (16 page)

BOOK: Secondhand Sinners
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He had no idea what he had just witnessed, but the cloudy waters Emily threw him in when she told him Daniel was gay had gotten murkier.

I kilt one ‘a your bastards before, Hoyt Thornton, and I’ll do it again
, played in a loop in Miller’s mind along with all the other questions he didn’t have the answers to. Like what kind of a history did Violet and Hoyt have? What did he do to her? Who was the bastard she was claiming to have killed?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

Emily

 

Emily sat in the front seat of Alan’s cruiser reviewing the odd experience she’d just had, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. One minute her mom said her dad was getting better, the next she was claiming to be making his final decisions. Something was off. Was it merely her mom’s mental capacity or was it something more?

All she wanted to do was get back to Miller, and Alan was taking too long. It was her own fault for giving in to Jack over going to lunch because she was afraid of him having a fit. Meltdowns in private didn’t really bother her. She didn’t even mind them so much out in public—didn’t like them, but she could deal with them. It was the thought of Jack losing control in public in Bokchito that terrified her. People would talk. People would judge. She didn’t care if they judged her. They’d all done that years ago. She didn’t want people to judge him.

“There’s a snake in my boot!”

“Not so loud.”

“This is taking forevvvvvvvver.”

“That’s still not a good reason to yell. He’ll come out when he’s finished.”

“He should learn how to pee like a man.”

“Men go in the bathroom, Jack. Animals go outside.”

“Somebody’s poisoned the water hole!”

“Jack—” She reached to the floor by her feet to pick up her purse and see if there was anything in there to entertain Jack with.

“Howdy partner!”

“Oh my God. Could you shut…?” Her hand touched something cold and hard, definitely not her purse strap. She gripped it and pulled it up. Keys. Familiar keys. Levi’s keys. Why would Alan hide Levi’s keys? Surely it wasn’t to manipulate her into riding with him. Or was it?

Son of a bitch probably stuck that nail in my tire too.

“Ahmmm. You said
shut up
.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You were going to.”

“I was going to say shut your eyes and count to one hundred.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll do it for a dollar.”

Should she make a big deal about the keys or just let it go? She hated being manipulated like that. Getting back to Miller was the most important thing right now, and a confrontation with Alan wouldn’t get her any closer. She put the keys back under the seat. Then she pulled the keys out again and took the one to the front door of the apartment. If he wanted in, he’d have to knock.

“I said I’ll do it for a dollar.”

“For a dollar, you’ll have to count to five hundred.”

While Jack started counting, Emily got her phone and called Miller. He didn’t answer. She was about to leave a message for him to come pick her up when Alan exited the building and came toward them at a brisk pace. “It’s Emily. Please call me,” she said and quickly hung up.

Alan climbed into the police car, smiled at Emily, and then looked back at Jack. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s counting to five hundred. It’s better than the alternative. I hope.”

“His eyes are closed.”

“That’s part of the deal.”

“Okay.” Alan started the car and put it in drive. “So where do you want to eat?”

“I don’t even know what restaurants there are in this town anymore.”

“Well, what do you feel like eating?”

“I told you I didn’t feel like eating.”

“Sixty-four, sixty-five…I wanna eat macaroni and cheese! Sixty-six…”

“That settles it,” Alan said as he pulled away from the curb. “Thunderbird Diner has the best macaroni and cheese. We want nothing but the best for our boy, right, Jack?”

“He’s not
our
boy.”

“I looooove macaroni and cheese. Sixty-nine, seventy…”

The whole morning was evolving from a wonderful dream into a terrible nightmare. Her mother, who’d never wanted her, was losing her mind, and her father was getting worse. All Emily wanted to do was stay at Miller’s, talk things out, and see if there was a future there. She was a little surprised that they had clicked so well with so many years and hurt feelings between them. She thought being around Miller again would be a nightmare, yet it wasn’t it. It was like a dream, once lost and nearly forgotten, was coming true. Yet there she was, sitting in Alan’s squad car, and he was trying to make her and Jack become some kind of a “we” with him. Her mood was quickly deteriorating, and Jack’s counting was getting on her last nerve.

She looked back at Jack. “That’s making me crazy. I’ll give you two dollars if you stop counting now.”

Jack stopped counting immediately and held out his hand. “Three dollars, please.”

“No. Two dollars. One to start counting and one to stop.”

“You said one to count and two to stop counting. That’s three.”

“Fine.”

Jack wiggled his fingers at her. “Now.”

She dug through her purse to find her wallet, which only had two twenties in it. “Crap.”

“That’s your new catch phrase. Well I’ll be—”

“Jack!”

“Am I missing something?” Alan asked.

“Yeah. About five years of mental exhaustion.”

“Huh?”

“I hate owing him money. He reminds me every minute until I give it to him.”

“I got it.” He opened the ashtray and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Here ya go, bud. You can keep the change.”

“Yeeesss!” Jack snatched the bill.

“Thanks.” Emily smiled without even trying to force the smile to spread from her mouth to her whole face. Owing Alan was worse than owing Jack. “I’ll buy lunch.”

 

***

 

They parked in front of the Thunderbird Diner. It had a
‘Home Cooking’
sign posted on the door right above the “Hours: 6 A.M. to 9 P.M
.
” sign. When they walked in, heads turned in a slow wave, starting in the corner with the old ladies in plastic hair bonnets, probably taking a break from the beauty salon next door, and ending with the men by the door with grease-smeared arms and necks. Even though she didn’t recognize most of them, Emily knew if she studied their faces hard enough, she’d be able to. She kept her head down and followed Alan, with Jack in tow, to a table in the middle of the room.

Alan pulled out a chair. “Here ya go, Jack. Wanna sit here so you can see cars go by on the street?”

Jack sat in the chair without answering, pulled a Han Solo Lego mini-figure out of his pocket, and set it on the table. “She’ll make point five past light speed.”

Alan sat next to Jack, and Emily sat across from them after she pulled some loose Legos from her purse and put them on the table in front of Jack.

“Tell Jabba I’ve got his money,” Jack said.

An old waitress with hair that looked more magenta than red brought menus and water glasses.

“I need my usual appetizer please, Vicky.”

The waitress narrowed her eyes at Alan, smacked her gum a few times, and then left. She was back within a minute with an open Miller Lite.

“It’s barely eleven o’clock in the morning,” Emily said.

“I’m on nights so this is more like eleven P.M. to me.” Alan took a drink from his beer and sat back with his arms crossed over his chest. “So, how have you been?”

Emily pretended to concentrate on her menu. “Okay.”

“You’re a liar.”

She lowered the menu. “I’m okay given the circumstances. So why did you move back?”

Alan narrowed his eyes. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Humor me. Why did you come back?”

“Wonderful girl,” Jack said in his well-practiced Han Solo voice. “Either I’m going to kill her or I’m beginning to like her.”

Alan shrugged. “Nowhere else to go. Hoyt was a bastard, but he was the only family I had. Or have…for the time being.”

“How is Hoyt?”

“You tell me.”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t—”

“I’m not stupid. No one else in the entire world would care enough about that old bastard to send him candy, blankets, and pajamas except for you.”

“I don’t really care about him. I wanted to help make him comfortable. You know, for Daniel's sake.”

“You think Daniel would give a rat’s ass about Hoyt being comfortable?”

“I don’t know. I’ll never know. I do like to think that eventually Hoyt would’ve pulled himself together enough for them to have a decent relationship.”

The waitress came back and took their order. After she left, Alan leaned forward and reached under the table, hooking his hands behind Emily’s knees. “Why didn’t you call me when you got into town?”

“I thought you were in Texas.”

“Then why didn’t you call me when you thought I was in Texas?”

“Alan, I know I handled things terribly, and I’m really sorry. Please hear me when I say I cannot do this now. I need you to respect that.”

“She’s fast enough for ya, old man,” Jack quoted and then made a buzzing noise as he moved the light speeder he built out of the loose Legos through the air like an airplane.

“Okay. Sorry. Changing the subject like you asked.”

Jack stood up. “I gotta go to the bathroom!”

“I’m going to take him. When I get back, can we please drop—”

Alan grabbed her hand and kissed it. “No more talk about Texas. I swear. As long as you’ll eat something.”

Emily took Jack’s hand and kept her head down again as they walked to the back of the building and followed the arrow on the sign that read
‘Restrooms.’
Once she got in the ladies’ bathroom, she sent Jack into a stall.

“How you doing in there?” she called out to Jack and heard nothing but his light saber vocalizations. “Jack. Go.”

The light saber sounds died out, replaced by the telltale light trickle. Emily checked her phone. Miller hadn’t called back yet. That was for the best. What she would say if he asked where she was? She wasn’t going to lie. She didn’t want to have to explain how she ended up at a diner with Alan when she said she’d be back as soon as she visited her mom, either. As truthful as
He tricked me and then talked me into it
was, it showed a weakness she didn’t want Miller to know about. Yet. If they were going to have any kind of a future, she’d have to be truthful about that night in Dallas with Alan, but she wanted to be in control of that piece of information. She’d tell him when the time was right.

When she and Jack returned and sat down, Alan was still sitting there. The women in the plastic hair bonnets got up as she sat down. Two of them left. One of them walked over to her. “You’re Emily Collins, ain’tchya?”

Emily faked a smile. “Yes, Ma’am. It’s Matthews now.”

“You’re that Thornton boy’s girl ain’tchya?”

“Yes,” Emily answered, no longer capable of even a fake smile. She would always be Daniel's girl to the people in the town. She knew that even when she was a teenager. Towns like that were real entities with their own morality, fed by the consciousness of those people who lived in them. Even after a hundred years, she’d still be Daniel's girl. Parents would introduce her legacy to their teenage daughters as the cautionary tale of what happens when you get pregnant while you’re still in high school—you’ll end up alone and scared, and your whole life will be ruined. That was okay. She’d be the one with the stigma, not Daniel. She could handle it. He never could.

“I knew his daddy, that foul man. That boy, though…now he was a sweetheart.” She pointed her frail, crooked finger at Emily and smiled. “And I remember…he loved you.”

“Yes, Ma'am. He did.”

She patted Emily’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry none. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. There’re people in this world who go places the rest of us jus’ cain’t understand and weren’t meant to go. That poor boy had darkness behind his eyes.”

“No, ma’am,” Emily said, thinking of Miller at Daniel's funeral, alone and having to listen to people talk like this old lady. “That wasn’t darkness you saw. That was copper build-up from going weeks without his medicine. It’s called Kayser-Fleischer rings.”

“I see.” The old lady nodded, removed her hand from Emily’s shoulder, and walked away.

Emily lowered her head and rubbed her temples.

Alan cleared his throat. “Wow. That was—”

“Bitchy, I know. That lady was trying to be nice.” She pushed her chair out and stood up. “I should go apologize.”

Alan took her hand and coaxed her down. “She wasn’t trying to be nice. She was being nosey. Was probably one of those ladies who gossiped about you getting pregnant by the town drunk’s son after you ran away. They did that, you know? And it really upset Mom. She cried for months over how the whole town was talking about her dead son and his loose girlfriend. So don’t waste your breath apologizing to her.”

BOOK: Secondhand Sinners
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