fence line sounds like a lot of work, not to mention, it’s creepy.”
He studied her for a full minute. “Okay, but you can’t countermand my authority, and you can’t tell Tom that you’re—”
“His mother. I know.”
“Nice doing business with you.” Gabe nodded toward the door. “You can let yourself out.”
He was dismissing her. “That’s not very polite.”
One corner of his mouth curled up. “Do you see me holding a shotgun? To my way of thinking, I’m the picture of southern hospitality.”
How could she not return his smile?
“Don’t you have some tour or record to finish?”
Yes, but that wasn’t any of his business. “Nope. I’m free as a bird.”
Betts leaned against the kitchen counter and made herself comfortable.
“Bye.” Gabe tossed the water bottle in the recycle bin, walked across the small room, and down a dark hall. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Betts stayed put. She wasn’t leaving until she was good and ready.
Gabe closed a door. The unmistakable rumble of water turned on. He was going to take a shower.
Betts smiled. She wasn’t leaving town or this house until she’d gotten what she wanted. She stood, walked to the refrigerator, and pulled out two bottles of water. The cool plastic chilled her hands for a minute before she laid them on the counter. With an extra sway in her hips, she walked down the hall and threw open the only closed door. A thick wall of steam floated out.
Betts grinned at the solid form moving behind the dark-green-and-maroon-stripped shower curtain. She kicked the crumpled clothes out of the way, stepped in front of the toilet, unsnapped her jeans, and answered nature’s call. After she’d finished buttoning up, she tugged the toilet handle down and waited for the cold water to replace Gabe’s hot. Thank God for old plumbing.
“Jesus! What the hell?” He tore the shower curtain back. Soap bubbles dripped down his face. He opened his eyes and jumped back, pulling the curtain around him. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
Betts turned on the tap and washed her hands. “Told you. I had to pee. Thanks for the water. See ya, neighbor.” She walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door.
Leaving felt good when it was on her terms.
CHAPTER 5
Two days later, Betts hoisted the final load of clothes out to Gigi’s old Mustang. It was moving day. Her Mercedes had a busted axle, but Manny, of Manny’s Garage and Mini Mart, had delivered it himself this morning. Mama had taken the Mercedes; Betts liked driving the old Mustang. Since the car had been Gigi’s only vice, driving it hard and fast was the perfect screw-you. Then again, comforts like satellite radio and seat belts would have been nice.
Yesterday, Mama and Betts had parked the tour bus in its new home and watched while the electric lines and sewer lines were hooked up.
Thank God Mama was out now doing God knows what to God knows who, because Betts wanted some alone time. After squeezing the last load into the backseat of the Mustang, she waved to the gawkers and slid behind the wheel.
A vicious rumor had started in the DQ parking lot that Betts Monroe was leaving town. Since it was started by Bump at her request, she rolled down the window, smiled brightly, and said, “Y’all have been so kind. I’ll miss Hollisville, but I’ve got an album to finish. Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”
Betts had brokered a deal with the town’s four churches—if they convinced their parishioners to give Betts six months of privacy, she’d give the town a free concert and donate ten thousand dollars to each of the four churches. Just to make it interesting, she’d made the deal all or nothing, so even if one person bothered her or turned her into the media, all four churches would lose their ten grand. The last part had been Mama’s idea. She’d always said that people would do things for Jesus that they wouldn’t
He studied her for a full minute. “Okay, but you can’t countermand my authority, and you can’t tell Tom that you’re—”
“His mother. I know.”
“Nice doing business with you.” Gabe nodded toward the door. “You can let yourself out.”
He was dismissing her. “That’s not very polite.”
One corner of his mouth curled up. “Do you see me holding a shotgun? To my way of thinking, I’m the picture of southern hospitality.”
How could she not return his smile?
“Don’t you have some tour or record to finish?”
Yes, but that wasn’t any of his business. “Nope. I’m free as a bird.”
Betts leaned against the kitchen counter and made herself comfortable.
“Bye.” Gabe tossed the water bottle in the recycle bin, walked across the small room, and down a dark hall. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Betts stayed put. She wasn’t leaving until she was good and ready.
Gabe closed a door. The unmistakable rumble of water turned on. He was going to take a shower.
Betts smiled. She wasn’t leaving town or this house until she’d gotten what she wanted. She stood, walked to the refrigerator, and pulled out two bottles of water. The cool plastic chilled her hands for a minute before she laid them on the counter. With an extra sway in her hips, she walked down the hall and threw open the only closed door. A thick wall of steam floated out.
Betts grinned at the solid form moving behind the dark-green-and-maroon-stripped shower curtain. She kicked the crumpled clothes out of the way, stepped in front of the toilet, unsnapped her jeans, and answered nature’s call. After she’d finished buttoning up, she tugged the toilet handle down and waited for the cold water to replace Gabe’s hot. Thank God for old plumbing.
“Jesus! What the hell?” He tore the shower curtain back. Soap bubbles dripped down his face. He opened his eyes and jumped back, pulling the curtain around him. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
Betts turned on the tap and washed her hands. “Told you. I had to pee. Thanks for the water. See ya, neighbor.” She walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door.
Leaving felt good when it was on her terms.
CHAPTER 5
Two days later, Betts hoisted the final load of clothes out to Gigi’s old Mustang. It was moving day. Her Mercedes had a busted axle, but Manny, of Manny’s Garage and Mini Mart, had delivered it himself this morning. Mama had taken the Mercedes; Betts liked driving the old Mustang. Since the car had been Gigi’s only vice, driving it hard and fast was the perfect screw-you. Then again, comforts like satellite radio and seat belts would have been nice.
Yesterday, Mama and Betts had parked the tour bus in its new home and watched while the electric lines and sewer lines were hooked up.
Thank God Mama was out now doing God knows what to God knows who, because Betts wanted some alone time. After squeezing the last load into the backseat of the Mustang, she waved to the gawkers and slid behind the wheel.
A vicious rumor had started in the DQ parking lot that Betts Monroe was leaving town. Since it was started by Bump at her request, she rolled down the window, smiled brightly, and said, “Y’all have been so kind. I’ll miss Hollisville, but I’ve got an album to finish. Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”
Betts had brokered a deal with the town’s four churches—if they convinced their parishioners to give Betts six months of privacy, she’d give the town a free concert and donate ten thousand dollars to each of the four churches. Just to make it interesting, she’d made the deal all or nothing, so even if one person bothered her or turned her into the media, all four churches would lose their ten grand. The last part had been Mama’s idea. She’d always said that people would do things for Jesus that they wouldn’t
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