Thirty-Three and a Half Shenanigans
Page 58
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Was I? What if I saw something bad? I couldn’t bear the thought of blurting out something awful to her. Saving my gastrointestinal tract wouldn’t be worth it. Nevertheless, I’d opened this can of worms, and I couldn’t turn back now. “Neely Kate,” I said, turning serious. “Think about this. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until the ultrasound? You can have a party to celebrate when you find out. You know, like making one of those cakes with a blue or pink center to surprise everyone with the news. You won’t get that if we find out now.”
She didn’t answer, still holding my hand.
“And what about Ronnie? Doesn’t he want to be with you when he sees Ronnie Jr.’s . . .” I cringed, “you know . . . part on the ultrasound screen?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t care about that. The doctor’s office makes him squeamish.”
I told a deep breath, then whispered, “What if I see something bad, Neely Kate? Have you thought of that?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Yes. That’s why I’m so desperate for you to try. My granny read in her tea leaves that I’m gonna lose the baby.”
I gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I squeezed her hand. “You know she gets almost everything wrong. You can’t believe that.”
“She’s seen it more than once, Rose.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Ronnie. I was superstitious enough to think it might come true if I said it out loud.”
I lifted my chin. “Then I’m going to have a vision to prove her wrong, okay?”
She sniffed and nodded, fear filling her eyes before determination replaced it. “Okay. One way or the other, let’s find out.”
Butterflies swarmed my stomach as I closed my eyes, concentrating on Neely Kate’s pregnancy. What if by some freak of nature her grandmother was right?
Several seconds later I was standing in a small store filled with baby clothes, standing next to . . . well, me. I grabbed a blue sleeper embroidered with “My daddy is a mechanic. What super power does your daddy have?” off a rack of clothes and held it to my chest. “What do you think, Rose?”
Vision-me was looking through a stack of baby clothes on a display table. I was wearing my black and cream tweed coat and a cream-colored knit hat. Lots of people were walking past the store’s big picture windows while jazzy Christmas music played overhead. Vision-me glanced up, shaking my head. “I think you’re crazy, but if you really want to do it, we can.”
“And what about the sleeper?”
I laughed. “Ronnie will love it.”
The vision faded, and my eyes flew open. “You’re shopping for baby clothes, and you want to do something crazy.”
Her red nails painted with little Christmas trees dug into my hand. “Baby clothes?”
I nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tell me what you saw.” After I relayed the vision to her, she asked, “Where were we?”
“Definitely not Henryetta, but the store was playing Christmas music.” I lifted my eyebrows, anticipating her next question. “And I have no idea what you wanted to do.”
“Hmm . . .” she said, sounding happy. I realized my dream hadn’t been that far into the future, but Neely Kate seemed content, so I wasn’t going to press the issue. Instead, I looked at the computer screen in front of me and resisted a groan of frustration. “You know,” I said, giving her a pleading look. “Since you have nothing but time on your hands, maybe you could help me with this. I was going to pay a bookkeeper to get us set up anyway, so I’ll just hire you, and you can earn money to decorate Ronnie Jr.’s nursery.”
“Oh, my stars and garters!” she shouted, throwing her arms around my neck. “We can work together! How amazing is that?”
“Something Bad” by Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood started playing, muffled from the inside of Neely Kate’s purse.
My eyebrows rose. “You changed your ringtone? To the song you danced to?”
She gave me an ornery grin as she dug in her purse. “It seemed appropriate after yesterday. In more ways than one.”
She dug it out and answered. “Hello?” Her forehead quickly furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me on the phone?” She let out an exasperated groan. “Fine. I’ll meet you, but this better be worth my time, Billy Jack.”
“Billy Jack?” I asked as she hung up.
“He says he knows something about Dolly Parton that he couldn’t tell us before. He wants to meet us at the Blue Plate Diner down on Highway 82, on the other side of Pickle Junction.”
“What if it’s a trap?” I cringed. “He wasn’t very happy with us when we parted.”
“Billy Jack’ll hold a grudge, all right, but he sounded really spooked.” She paused and searched my eyes. “I think he knows something.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s meet him. What time?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“That’s less than half an hour from now.” I stood up and grabbed my coat. “Let’s get going. I’ll tell you about my night on the way.”
She glared at me. “If you’re talking about someone breaking into your house yesterday, I already know.”
I was bound to pay for that.
We got in my truck and headed southwest while I told her everything about my evening—minus my visit with Skeeter. I knew she wouldn’t understand, and I wasn’t up for a lecture. The less she knew about Skeeter, the better.
She didn’t answer, still holding my hand.
“And what about Ronnie? Doesn’t he want to be with you when he sees Ronnie Jr.’s . . .” I cringed, “you know . . . part on the ultrasound screen?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t care about that. The doctor’s office makes him squeamish.”
I told a deep breath, then whispered, “What if I see something bad, Neely Kate? Have you thought of that?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Yes. That’s why I’m so desperate for you to try. My granny read in her tea leaves that I’m gonna lose the baby.”
I gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I squeezed her hand. “You know she gets almost everything wrong. You can’t believe that.”
“She’s seen it more than once, Rose.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Ronnie. I was superstitious enough to think it might come true if I said it out loud.”
I lifted my chin. “Then I’m going to have a vision to prove her wrong, okay?”
She sniffed and nodded, fear filling her eyes before determination replaced it. “Okay. One way or the other, let’s find out.”
Butterflies swarmed my stomach as I closed my eyes, concentrating on Neely Kate’s pregnancy. What if by some freak of nature her grandmother was right?
Several seconds later I was standing in a small store filled with baby clothes, standing next to . . . well, me. I grabbed a blue sleeper embroidered with “My daddy is a mechanic. What super power does your daddy have?” off a rack of clothes and held it to my chest. “What do you think, Rose?”
Vision-me was looking through a stack of baby clothes on a display table. I was wearing my black and cream tweed coat and a cream-colored knit hat. Lots of people were walking past the store’s big picture windows while jazzy Christmas music played overhead. Vision-me glanced up, shaking my head. “I think you’re crazy, but if you really want to do it, we can.”
“And what about the sleeper?”
I laughed. “Ronnie will love it.”
The vision faded, and my eyes flew open. “You’re shopping for baby clothes, and you want to do something crazy.”
Her red nails painted with little Christmas trees dug into my hand. “Baby clothes?”
I nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tell me what you saw.” After I relayed the vision to her, she asked, “Where were we?”
“Definitely not Henryetta, but the store was playing Christmas music.” I lifted my eyebrows, anticipating her next question. “And I have no idea what you wanted to do.”
“Hmm . . .” she said, sounding happy. I realized my dream hadn’t been that far into the future, but Neely Kate seemed content, so I wasn’t going to press the issue. Instead, I looked at the computer screen in front of me and resisted a groan of frustration. “You know,” I said, giving her a pleading look. “Since you have nothing but time on your hands, maybe you could help me with this. I was going to pay a bookkeeper to get us set up anyway, so I’ll just hire you, and you can earn money to decorate Ronnie Jr.’s nursery.”
“Oh, my stars and garters!” she shouted, throwing her arms around my neck. “We can work together! How amazing is that?”
“Something Bad” by Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood started playing, muffled from the inside of Neely Kate’s purse.
My eyebrows rose. “You changed your ringtone? To the song you danced to?”
She gave me an ornery grin as she dug in her purse. “It seemed appropriate after yesterday. In more ways than one.”
She dug it out and answered. “Hello?” Her forehead quickly furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me on the phone?” She let out an exasperated groan. “Fine. I’ll meet you, but this better be worth my time, Billy Jack.”
“Billy Jack?” I asked as she hung up.
“He says he knows something about Dolly Parton that he couldn’t tell us before. He wants to meet us at the Blue Plate Diner down on Highway 82, on the other side of Pickle Junction.”
“What if it’s a trap?” I cringed. “He wasn’t very happy with us when we parted.”
“Billy Jack’ll hold a grudge, all right, but he sounded really spooked.” She paused and searched my eyes. “I think he knows something.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s meet him. What time?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“That’s less than half an hour from now.” I stood up and grabbed my coat. “Let’s get going. I’ll tell you about my night on the way.”
She glared at me. “If you’re talking about someone breaking into your house yesterday, I already know.”
I was bound to pay for that.
We got in my truck and headed southwest while I told her everything about my evening—minus my visit with Skeeter. I knew she wouldn’t understand, and I wasn’t up for a lecture. The less she knew about Skeeter, the better.
