Page 36 of Heart of Dixie
“You’re a teacher, Blake. How well would that go over with the school board? Besides, what would Donna say?”
“Hell, I’d invite her too.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
Blake mimed pulling a knife from his chest. “Deke. Dude. You wound me thusly. Beneath the Shakespeare and the e.e. cummings, I’m the life of the party, man!”
“You mean you want to be the life of the party, but Donna wants you home by ten.”
His teeth gleamed as he grinned. “Semantics.”
“Words are words, Blake.”
“Just wait till we’re working with the football players again. You’ll love me then.” Words may be Blake’s forte, but I had the mental bandwidth for visualizing plays. It was all about geometry and physics. I dropped my metaphorical sword.
A quick perusal of the yard only proved that Dixie’s car wasn’t here. I checked out back, but the detached garage that Cooter converted to his studio with an upstairs apartment years ago seemed abandoned. Blake had just brought a proposition to me, needed some space for a project he was working on. Maybethis would work, depending on what Dixie decided to do with the house.
It was a mystery why the water was on, but it seemed clear it would flood the street soon. A search along the skirting of the mobile home revealed the water spigot—on the far side of the house. Of course. I supposed I should be thankful I wore flip flops I could kick off easily enough, although God knew what mysteries lurked in that mud.
Several barefooted steps into the yard, I still had no idea what hid beneath it, but I had an excellent idea how it felt between my toes. And I was conjuring a pretty good image of how it would look splattered on Blake’s face and across the side of his Tahoe. Guy would not quit cackling. “Would you shut your mouth over there? This is nowhere as amusing as you think.”
He continued to hoot. “Sorry, dude. Well, no, not really. You should see how stupid you look prancing through that goo.”
I took another step through the ankle-deep glop. “Today is the final day of our friendship.” I ground the words out as Dixie’s rental hopped the curb and raced up the driveway. She screeched to a stop in a shower of rock and swirling dust.
Her door flew open and she teetered in her wedged heels and prissy suit to the edge of the drive, where she threw her hands up to her face. “Deke, look at you! Oh, dear God! Look at this mess! I was in church with Beth and . . . and suddenly I remembered. I can’t believe I forgot about the water!”
I reached the spigot and turned off the water to the hose that must be hidden somewhere under Cooter Lake, then I held her back with my free hand raised like a traffic cop. “Hold up, Dixie! Don’t come too close or you’ll end up face planting in the muck.” Thankfully, she took my words to heart and halted her wobbly advance.
She fixed her gaze everywhere but on me. “Thanks for taking care of this, Deke. I can’t imagine what you were doing out thisway, but thank you.” She took a step to her right, up the drive toward the house. “I have so much to do today; I’m sure you don’t want to stick around.”
A quick glance at Blake confirmed he was kicked back, intent with a game on his cell phone. He might not miss me for hours.
After the emotions of last night, I intended to say a quick, neighborly hello and hit the road, but now that she was blowing me off, I slogged a step toward her as I craned my neck to take in the mess around us. “We had to get boys home after a car wash this morning. Even they didn’t make this much mess. What happened here, Dixie?”
Her gaze scanned the entire yard, again avoiding me. She flapped her hands in the air and rocked a bit on the uneven ground. “I had things to take care of for Cooter. I came by early to feed the cat and get some of his clothes to take to the funeral home. They said I could take them over later this morning.” I finished my trek out of the mud and stood beside her. Her hands were warm when I locked our fingers. Her eyes studied our entwined hands as if she wasn’t sure how they got that way. “I found some wildflower seeds when I was looking for the steam iron. Remember how my mama used to toss wildflower seeds back then?” I let her memories take me back as well.
“Your mama always did like her flowers.”
“Well, they aren’t nearly good enough for her now. No, siree. She has a handful of gardeners at her beck and call.”
I grinned. “Some things just aren’t right.”
She shot me a sidelong glance. “Are you mocking me?”
I shrugged. “Might be.”
Blake honked. Seemed he finally realized we were ignoring him. “Hey, we ’bout done gabbing here?”
“Hold tight.” I held up a waiting finger—it being Sunday, he was saved mymiddlefinger—and turned to face Dixie in her city shoes and fancy clothes.
TheFor Salesign had been pounded into the dirt near the curb. I imagined her to-do list trailed from here to Christmas. “What do you need to do here? Do you need my help?” Today, she wore less makeup than she normally did and her hair was down around her shoulders. It was more casual, more approachable. I took a handful in my fingers and swept it over her shoulder. She brushed her cheek against my wrist. When her eyes lifted and met mine, she’d lost her Commander-in-Chief persona and seemed a little more like a rookie private being ordered into battle.
I waved Blake off behind my back and he drove off with a beep of his horn. “Come on, princess. I’ve got big muscles and a strong back. Let me do something manly for you.” I flexed the guns and gave her a little show that Shane would never, ever let me live down if he happened to drive by. But she chuckled and the worry on her face cleared.
“All I’ve done so far is collect boxes.”
I raised my brow, then lowered my chin to catch her eye and she laughed. “No, not that kind of boxes. These really are empty cartons from the grocery store. I have to pack up all of Cooter’s belongings if I want to sell the place. I haven’t even started.”
