Page 39 of Heart of Dixie
Dixie
Irang the doorbell and waited on Beth’s front porch. Her boots trampled across her hardwood floor, then she opened the door wide and hid her uniform clad body behind the friendly red portal. “I’m so sorry to leave you standing out here! I meant to leave it unlocked but then my mama called and I . . . Cheese and rice, Dixie, what is all this stuff?” She gaped at the assortment of luggage I dragged up from my car before reaching for one of my rolling overnight bags and then a garment bag I had slung over my shoulder. I yanked my arm back and shoved one of Break an Egg’s logo bags into her hands instead.
“I brought dinner. And this time, there had better be two cheeseburgers smothered with everything in those takeout containers or Ruby and I are having words. Deke and I have been packing up Cooter’s house all day. I’m sexed out, and I’m starving. I am in no mood for healthy food. I need red meat and I need it now.”
Beth’s jaw dropped. “Sexed out? I get to hear more about that, right? Because . . . you know, I haven’t seen a real penisin . . .” She proceeded to count on her fingers, then gave up and sighed. “I don’t have that many fingers.”
With a laugh, I followed her across the threshold and dumped my belongings on the floor inside the door. “What about the night Jimmy Peters got drunk and flashed you and you had to haul him in and call his wife?” Beth cringed and shuddered all over.
“That’s a penis I’m still trying to scrub from my brain. But if the sex with Deke was so good, why are you here instead of with him in his log mansion? I think he’d want to tie you up and keep you . . . um,tied up.” Her eyes fairly glowed at the idea of it.
I moved to the kitchen counter, where she’d deposited the Styrofoam containers holding our dinners. My stomach growled. The aroma drifting from the closed boxes was smoky and flavorful, and seemed promising. Surely Ruby had a heart and hooked us up with real beef. I open the lids and . . .shit!Butoh, my God!Thick slabs of pot roast along with mounds of creamy mashed potatoes and pools of black eyed peas swimming with bacon. Practically drooling, I transferred our dinners to the round table in the middle of the room.
“Huh-uh. Get out those fingers of yours and start counting again.” A quick hunt through drawers produced cutlery. “How much of this weekend have I spent with him so far, and how much have I spent with you? We’ve been trying to squeeze in one night together and something keeps coming up with your work.” Chair legs scraped the floor when I pulled one out to take a seat at the table. Beth reached across the counter where a bottle of red wine was already uncorked and poured glasses for each of us. “Well, now you’re off until after I leave, and other than a few odds and ends I need to wrap up tomorrow, I say it’s time for shenanigans.”
Beth lifted her glass and clinked it against mine. “Let the shenanigans begin.”
As if on cue, my phone went off—“The Bitch is Back”—and the evening was instantly tainted. Beth had instinctively stretched across the table to grab for it, then just as quickly batted it away. “Eek!”My phone came sliding back toward me. “It’s the viper!”
I grabbed the offending device before it nose-dived off the table, and walked toward Beth’s garden door to her back deck to take the call. Olivia Westerbrooke would only be ignored for so long before she made her presence known. And Lord help us all should she choose to appear in person.
I hardly had a chance to connect the call before Olivia was practically hyperventilating in my ear. I could imagine the scene clearly: she’d have her slim hand patting her perfectly styled bob—jet black with a remarkable silver streak—pacing the polished hardwood floor in her designer shirtwaist buttoned to the throat, wearing the requisite string of hand-knotted pearls and stylish pumps with three-inch heels. “Dixie, forGod’s sake, I haven’t had an update from you in days! What kind of event are you tossing together for your daddy down there? You got a quality casket, didn’t you? And plenty of fresh flowers? None of those tacky fake things! Can you imagine? And please tell me you planned some sort of reception so the guests can pay their respects. My George has an image—”
Apparently, my daddydidhave an image other than the one I’d carried around in my memory, but it was the least of my concerns. If Olivia was so concerned about what actually happened at his funeral, or afterward, she could drag her bony ass down to Kissing Creek, Tennessee and plan the damneventherself.
I pinched the bridge of my nose beneath my sunglasses. I planned to give her the information she wanted as she was generously footing the bill for everything she demanded, but I also planned to spend tonight with Beth. If I gave Olivia too big apiece of my mind, that plan would be shot to hell, and I’d spend the evening on the phone defending every decision I’d made so far.
“Olivia, it’s a mystery to me, but the man had friends in this town. He has a nice box to be buried in and a man of God to say a few words over his body. There’s even a nice celebration of life”—or death, but I wisely kept that thought to myself—“planned for afterward. If you’re concerned how your money’s being spent, you’re welcome to make the trip down here to join us. There’s still plenty of time.”
The silence over the phone line had me holding my breath, and then Olivia sputtered, “Now, Dixie, I’m sure you’re doing a fine job. A fine job, indeed. You know I have every confidence in your abilities. After all, you’ve been running your business with all those celebrities in California for years. I’m sure you can handle one little funeral with no interference from me.”
It was my turn to sputter now—from withholding my laughter. “Thank you for believing in me, Olivia. If you were here, I think you’d be happy with the results.”
“As I’m sure everyone will. Please make sure I receive all the invoices. Which reminds me . . . I haven’t seen the bill for your plane fare.”
I peered into the house through the glass garden door. Beth was putzing around the kitchen while I was occupied on the telephone.
I turned away, back to the shaded yard with its multi-colored planting beds. “No, Olivia. You won’t see that bill. This trip’s on me.”
After a few more minutes to let my mama know what was happening with Cooter’s house, I stepped back into the kitchen and tossed my phone in the bottom of my purse. Hopefully, it would die a painful death. The only person I wanted to speak tofor the next day was sitting across the dinner table from me. And glaring.
Beth had warmed the food while I was on the phone, and though the wonderful aromas filled the room, when I took a bite I found my phone conversation had stolen my appetite. After I chugged my first glass of wine I refilled my glass and met Beth’s eyes. “Okay, ask.”
She propped her elbows on the edge of the table and laughed. “I have a list by now.”
“Jeez. Let me drink this glass too, then.” I did, and the dark red liquid went down way too smoothly. I poured a third and swirled the merlot in my glass. The bottle was nearly empty already. I pointed to it. “We’ll need another one of those.” She got up and retrieved one from the pantry.
I removed the cork to give it time to breathe, then went back to pushing my dinner around my plate. “You always were a great friend.”
“What can I say? You always needed one.”
WhatcouldI say? I always did. “Okay, deputy, no drama tonight. What’s on your list of questions?”
She quirked a brow. “You want to talk about Deke or you want to talk about Olivia?”
“I’d rather not talk about either of them. Are you really giving me a choice?”
She took a sip and wagged her head. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Start talking. And don’t stop until I know it all.”
