Page 31 of Kandie Shoppe

Nodding, I know he didn’t. When he came back, he was sporting that sunburst by his eye and all the ladies were saying how sexy it was. I wanted to slap all of them. Couldn’t they see how close he came to dying if someone got that close? Was it a bullet? A bomb, a knife?

“He didn’t tell you when it happened?” Watching as she shakes her head, I’m outraged on her behalf. We’ve had enough people to serve to know that she should have gotten a call —unless he was adamant that they didn’t. More reason to be mad at his selfish ass. No wonder he didn’t call me about Thad. He didn’t have the decency to let his mom know he survived an attack. If he died, she probably wouldn’t know anything for a while.

“I’m making you some rice pudding. It’s easy to tolerate.” Patting her foot, I get up before she can protest and head toward the kitchen. Thankfully, as horrible as she burnt the garlic, Susie-Pearl is already cleaning the kitchen.

“I’m going to show you how to make this rice pudding for Marlene, your patient. Ulysses doesn’t need you cooking for him. His mom does.” Her face screws up but she doesn’t say anything when I get the milk, rice, vanilla, honey, and eggs out and place them on the counter.

“I’m going to show you how to make conge too. It’s a rice porridge. It’s savory. So if she doesn’t want the sweet she can have the savory. Both are easy to tolerate. You can’t go wrong with good ol’ oatmeal. Just don’t add a lot of sugar to either, because it will tear her stomach up,” I tell her. “And bring her some of that weed your brother grows behind your pa’s house, they say it helps with nausea.” Her eyes widen like she doesn’t know folks tell me everything in this town.

To her credit, she pays close attention as I get both dishes together. “Do you have any food prep containers?” I ask.

Nodding, she goes over to several glass containers.

“Susie-Pearl.” We both look up at the strong baritone calling her name. The woman almost elevates into the ether at the sound of her name on his lips. I wonder what type of fantasy she has playing in her mind while she’s been coming here to help out with Marlene. I wonder if she’s been reimagining herself, making meals for a hardworking sheriff and giving him a bunch of weasel-faced babies.

I huff out a giggle thinking of ice-blue eyed weasel blonds running around Shelby-Love. It’s not more than his ass deserves arresting my cousin.

“Is that bike—oh.” He stops, broad shoulders filling the entrance of the kitchen.

“Yeah, oh.” Giving him a saccharin smile, I close the lids on the steaming food before spooning the last bit into two containers.

“This is enough for the week. Call me if you have any questions when you make a new batch. I’ll look up some more recipes and send them to you.”

Cheeks flushed, Susie-Pearl nods with a grudging thanks. It’s not her fault, she’s a good caretaker. They don’t teach them to cook.

Picking up the tray, I head to Marlene’s room. “Excuse me.” I shoot a mean look at Ulysses’ hard as granite face. Moving to the side, he lets me pass without a word, but I can feel his eyes following me as I take the corner to Marlene’s room.

“Hey, lady.” Tucking my head into the room, I watch as she sits up higher. I swear I can hear a light grumble when I set the tray down on her thin legs. Never a big woman, she’s almost half her size now that the cancer has taken its toll on her small frame.

Pulling up a chair, I sit beside her, taking the spoon.

“I don’t need you to feed me, Kandie.” She scoffs, trying to take it.

“I don’t beat up my elders. Don’t make me start today, Marlene. You need all your strength to spend the rest of your evening with your son who just came through the door, or do you want to be too tired to hang out with him?”

She grumbles something about bossy bakers, which I ignore as I spoon small mouthfuls to her.

“What are you making?” I nod to the mound of chenille yarn sitting beside her.

“A blanket.” She shrugs. “I’m hoping to finish it before —” Another shrug. She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. “I promised myself when Hezekiah passed, I wasn’t going to leave nothing else undone.” Her eyes reach mine and I get the message she’s trying to convey. The secret we share. One born out of tragedy and loss. I owe this lady so much. “I’m glad you came to see me, Kandie —”

“We sure appreciate you fixing the pudding,” Ulysses cuts in from the door of the bedroom.

The tightness filling my chest over what Marlene was about to say releases like the air from a slit tire. I feel myself visibly deflate as the pressure releases. Thank goodness. Feeling like I have been granted a minute clemency, I stand, taking the empty bowl and tray.

“It was my pleasure. Your mom was one of the few people who believed in me and stood by my side when all that mess happened. She saved me.” Leaning over, I brush a kiss on her forehead.

“Come back and check on me,” she says, giving me a serious look.

“I promise.” I mean it, despite knowing how hard that conversation and what she wants from me is going to be. I scoot by Ulysses.

The kitchen is empty. I guess Susie-Pearl has cleared out. Going home to fantasize about being the sheriff’s wife, I bet. Cleaning the dish, I’m just sitting it in the rack when I feel his presence behind me.

“You don’t have to do that.” Folding the towel neatly, I sit it on the edge of the rack before turning back to him.

“You mean like you didn’t have to arrest my cousin without giving me a heads-up?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I suck my teeth, watching his face flood with rage. His jaw clenches tight at my words like how dare I question the big bad ass sheriff.He’s lucky I love his mom, or I’d be stabbing his ass with one of his own butcher knives.

“What, so you can tell him how to escape jail? This isn’t a misdemeanor. What he and his little crew did is a federal crime punishable by three to five years in prison.”

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