When Bobbie Sang the Blues (4 page)

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful and lighthearted. By the time she reached her white convertible, her flip-flops hammered the pavement. Why did her heart jump every time she saw him? She knew Dan concealed his emotions well, but she had the feeling their meeting had rocked him too. Why couldn’t she get it through her head that they needed to be “just friends”—how she hated those words—for a while to see if what they felt warranted making a long-term commitment? It felt that way for her, but Dan had begun to back up, shying away from taking the next step.

She hit the button on her car keys to unlock the door.
Well, good luck, Miz Donna
, she thought as she plopped into the front seat.
He’s not an easy catch
.

As she turned the key in the ignition, she glanced at a couple sitting in a white truck two rows over. Then the sound of a child’s laughter drew her attention. She waited to back out, watching a man gather up stray children and herd them into a car in front of her.

After she spoke with her editor, maybe she’d grab her tennis shoes and jog off her anger, now that her ankle had healed. Jogging had been her means of blowing off steam until she broke her right ankle on a ski trip with the church youth. She took a deep breath, feeling better. A jog would be the best way to put her encounter with Dan behind her.

Once the family was safely in their car, she let the top down on her convertible, relishing the cool breeze rippling her ponytail. She drove out of the parking lot, music floating from a CD, her determined face warmed in a splash of sunlight.

As the couple in the white truck watched Christy hurrying to her car, Roseann asked, “Which one do we follow?” She studied the pretty woman in the convertible.

“We stay with Bobbie,” Eddie said. “Quick! Write down the number of that plate.”

Roseann grabbed her pen and copied down the number on a notepad. She looked across the parking lot at the red truck they’d been following all morning. “I’m gonna help you get that money back, Eddie,” she said. “Maybe I can make friends with Bobbie, and you could stay in the background.”

“Roseann, where that woman’s concerned, it’s hard for me to stay in the background.”

Roseann chewed on the end of her pen, deep in thought. She looked across at Eddie. “The sign on that Blues Club we passed said, ‘Bobbie Bodine, 9:00 Tonight.’”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, she can sing, but she’ll be singing the blues when I get through with her.”

A
s Christy drove home, her frustrations began to melt into discouragement. She knew she must have been pushing Dan for a commitment. In retrospect, she had just wanted to marry and start a family. It had felt so good to love again. But the memory of Chad, who had died seven years ago, made her fear losing Dan and suffering another heartbreak. She became possessive and jealous, and those ugly feelings caused her fears to become a reality. She had driven Dan away.

After their last argument, she had stormed out of the restaurant where they were having dinner. Then for a week, Dan had been too stubborn—or perhaps too angry—to call her. When she finally saw his number on the caller ID, she refused to answer. And she couldn’t bring herself to return his other calls. Then he had quit calling.

Christy turned down her street of pastel houses set in neat squares of green grass. As she turned into the driveway that ran alongside her pale pink house, she recalled how folks in Summer Breeze had once left their doors unlocked. Not anymore. Not since a prominent resident turned out to be a vicious killer.

She unlocked her front door and hurried up the hallway, bypassing the kitchen and turning into the second bedroom that served as her office. She cut across to the desk and tried to force her thoughts toward the questions she needed to ask her editor. She took the handset of the phone into the living room and sank onto the blue chenille sofa.

While she waited for the phone call, her gaze roamed around the living-dining area that was her haven. Beside the matching love seat, glass end tables held fashion magazines and a couple of new mystery novels. After kicking off her shoes, Christy put her bare feet on the glass coffee table and glanced at the entertainment center. She considered checking out the news and weather but dismissed the idea. She didn’t need any distractions.

The phone rang, and she picked up the handset.

After the conversation with her editor, Christy changed into a jogging shirt and shorts. As she hurried back to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, car keys, and billfold, she heard the slam of a door followed by an enthusiastic bark.

She rushed to the back door and yelled, “Tell him to water the grass and leave the corner of my house alone!” Her younger brother, Seth, stood in her backyard, and she looked meaningfully at Atticus, his beloved black and tan bloodhound.

“What?” Seth frowned. “No ‘Hey, how are you’? Just get your—”

“And no swearing. It upsets Atticus.” She walked over to pet
Atticus, who stood waist high. “See your ball over there?” She pointed toward a corner of the yard. “Go for it.”

He did.

She straightened and looked at Seth. “Who but you would name a dog after a fictional character?”

“How come you’re the only one who gets it?” he asked, grinning at her.

“Maybe it had something to do with the way you kept raiding my bookcase. How many times did you read
To Kill a Mocking-bird?
”

“I raided your bookcase, and you stole my favorite T-shirts.”

She pretended to be horrified. “Surely not. We were the two most perfect children in town.”

They both laughed. As she looked at him, Christy wondered why they had spent their early years killing themselves to please everyone, only to hit their teenage years like two hand grenades disguised as Easter eggs. Her rebellion had culminated in the accidental death of Chad, the man she’d loved and planned to marry. Heartbroken and considering the tragedy punishment from God, she had left Summer Breeze for four years, finding answers at last in a small mountain church in Colorado.

Seth’s rebellion had struck like a thief in the night, stealing his last resolve to “fit in.” He had run off to Australia to put space between himself and his frustrations in Summer Breeze. Christy knew he needed to test his wings, find out who he really was, but the guy who returned hardly resembled her beloved younger brother. This guy partied every night, chased girls all over the
Emerald Coast, and remained absent from the family pew. He had worked hard to escape the image of the kind and vulnerable preacher’s kid.

Atticus trotted up with the ball in his mouth and looked at her with soulful brown eyes.

“Thanks.” She leaned down to hug him. “You’re a sweetie.”

“Guess you have to be a dog to get a hug around here,” Seth remarked.

Christy laughed and walked over to hug her tall, slim brother, who towered over her at six feet. His pale brown hair rolled over his collar, shining and smelling of something exotic. He sported his uniform: faded T-shirt and jeans worn soft as butter. Christy smiled at him, studying the boyish face, the freckled nose, the soft brown eyes, the sensitive smile.

“I love you,” she said, making him start with surprise.

“Could have fooled me with your warm hello, mate.” The word
mate
kept cropping up in his vocabulary, along with a few others Christy had never heard.

Her gaze dropped to his Birkenstocks, covered in teeth marks. She grinned, glancing across the yard, where Atticus was in a standoff with a cardinal. The bird flew away, and Atticus ambled toward them with innocent confidence.

Christy bent to scratch behind the hound’s ears and looked up at Seth. “I’m thinking about taking a drive over to Shipwreck Island for a jog. Would you two like to come along? Is he car trained?”

Seth laughed. “The chewing is the problem. Maybe we’ll just follow you over.”

Christy laughed again, guessing the inside of his old red El Camino must bear a hundred teeth marks on the seat covers.

They had run the length of the beach when Seth laid a hand on her arm. “Hold up,” he said. “We’re not in a contest here.”

“You need to get back in shape. All your late-night partying is turning you into a couch potato,” Christy said through gasps. But she stopped running and placed her hands on her knees, lowering her head to catch her breath. She turned her head to study her brother, then grimaced. “The fumes from last night’s party are pouring out, little brother.”

Ignoring her comment, Seth plopped down on the warm sand, looking around. “Remember when we used to picnic here? You and I spent hours back there,” he said, indicating the woods behind them, “certain we’d find buried treasure from that old Spanish ship that got demolished in a hurricane.”

She nodded, glancing over her shoulder. “I did find buried treasure in a different way, writing about pirate ships and gold.”

“And you’re good at it.” He studied her from a sideways glance, his hair draping half of his face. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

She looked away, fighting tears. Denying her feelings to Seth would be a waste of time for both of them. “It’s Dan,” she said. “I just ran into him coming out of Miz B’s, and my heart started doing somersaults. I hate myself for it.”

“You hate being human?”

“I hate being vulnerable.”

“I thought you walked out on him.”

“After he started backing up.”

Seth tugged on her hand, pulling her down to the sand next to him. “Listen,” he said. “I know I’m the last guy that should be giving relationship advice, but every time I’ve seen you and Dan together, I just feel you two are right for each other. You’re both intelligent, ambitious, enjoy the same things, have similar views, and yet are different enough to make it interesting.”

Christy sighed. “I thought so too.”

“The way he looks at you, the way you look at him.” He swore under his breath. “Maybe if a girl I liked looked at me that way, I’d change for her. But Dan’s a serious guy. When he’s ready, he’ll commit. Are you willing to wait? You know, slowing down is not a bad thing, Christy.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed off as her mind moved to the woman Dan had mentioned. “Did you meet Donna at the Blues Club when you and Aunt Bobbie were there?”

He chuckled. “Is that what’s got you riled? Well, relax.
Miz
Donna’s a pretty woman, but I don’t think Dan’s interested.” He searched her face. “Don’t tell me you—”

“Dan has made it quite clear how important his freedom is to him, so why should I care who he’s with?”

“That’s a silly question. Of course you care who he’s with, and he’s just as worried about you.”

Christy lifted the corner of her shirt to wipe her face. “How do you know?”

“I ran into him late the other night. We had a drink and hung out for a while. All he talked about was you.” She lifted her head. “What’d he say?”

Seth shrugged. “That he’d called you several times, and you never called him back. He thinks you’re upset because after a year and a half, he hasn’t made a commitment.”

“Well, he’s right.”

“He said for eight years he was tied down with the military, and before that his old man pushed him to get through college. He wants some free time before being responsible for someone else, to be sure of what he’s doing.”

Seth watched a sea gull cross the sky; then his brown eyes drifted back to Christy. He draped a long arm around her shoulder. “Then he admitted he missed you like crazy.”

Her breath caught and she stiffened, instantly on the defensive. If she believed that, she would start to hurt again. “He’s working on the missing me part in the company of other women, apparently,” she said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice.

“You know this for a fact?”

She sighed. “Seth, why do I have such bad luck with guys?”

Seth thought for a minute, never one to give quick, easy answers like some people. “I don’t know how to answer that. Chad checked out competing in car races. You couldn’t stop him from doing what he loved. I think Dan just needs a little time and space. If he really loves you, it’ll work out.” He looked out at the water. “I keep thinking about Ingrid, the girl I met in Sydney. When she drove me to the airport, I felt like I was leaving something important behind. We
were supposed to be free spirits, she and I, and yet…being free didn’t feel so cool anymore.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re wearing yourself out on the party circuit,” Christy said. “You’re trying to prove you’ve forgotten her.”

He raked his hair back from his face, reached into his jeans for a rubber band, and secured the long ends in a ponytail.

“Do you love her?” she asked softly.

He frowned. “Nah, I just liked her a lot. I do know one thing.” His brown eyes held an intensity Christy hadn’t seen in months. “I want to finish college and do something useful with my life.”

She reached for his hand. “You said you went to Australia to find yourself. I think you did.”

The sun was slipping behind the horizon when Eddie pulled into the parking lot of the Blues Club. Roseann turned in the seat and looked at him. “What’s your plan? I know you have one.”

He angled his truck next to Bobbie’s red one, and they got out. “We’ll go inside, pretend to be friendly. I’ll say I have to go to the rest room, so when I leave the table, she’ll probably drop her guard. You watch her purse. Grab it if you get a chance.”

“Eddie, I doubt I’ll get a chance to steal her purse. Besides, I don’t think she’s packing ten grand in her billfold.”

He swung his leg back and planted his black boot squarely on the door of Bobbie’s red truck, the heel leaving its mark. “That helps,” he said. “Now I won’t feel like kicking her when I see her.”

“I think she’s put the money in that storage unit,” Roseann said, trying to offer some encouragement and settle him down. “Somehow we just missed it.”

He put an arm around her waist and grinned up at her. “That’s what I like about you. You use your head. If you can make friends with her, do it.”

Roseann reached up to fluff her curls. “Yeah, I can see how it would be to our advantage. But Eddie,” she warned, “you behave yourself tonight.”

He squared his shoulders and thrust his chest out as they walked toward the front door.