Page 39 of The Jilted Lovers Club
“Grace!” she calls out, and I wince at the shrill tone of her voice.
“Listen, I’m not trying to cause problems,” I say, holding up my hands.
That’s when Grace emerges from one of the aisles, her face lighting up when she sees me.
“Mabel, this is Jordy! The friend I was talking to you about!”
My heart leaps at the wordfriend. I can’t recall any time recently when someone I wasn’t related to had referred to me that way. I’m not anyone’s friend. I’m not even good at being a friend—judging by the amount of times Nina calls me, but I never call her.
“You are incredible,” Mabel says.
I pause, studying the way she said it. Sincere. Not a note of resentment.
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“No. Thanks to you, Grace covered our whole rent this month, and I’m able to catch up on my bills.”
I turn to Grace. “You gave this lady your money?”
Grace and Mabel look at each other, and then Grace starts to laugh.
“I forget that you’re not from around here,” she says. “Jordy, this is my sister, Mabel.”
“Charmed,” Mabel says, sticking out her hand. I take it loosely, looking from one to the other. Now that she’s said it, I can see it. Mabel’s a brunette while Grace’s hair is blonde. But their faces are nearly identical, with the same blue eyes and striking features. I didn’t get a good look at Mabel before, dismissing her as some country hippy with the paisley dress and yellow hat she wore the first time I saw her. But she’s actually really pretty—totally clueless about fashion, but pretty.
“We live together,” Grace explains. “So we both contribute to the rent. But school started a month ago and the kids needed new clothes, and money has been really tight. Your help came at the exact right time.”
“I didn’t help you,” I remind her. “I bought a few art pieces for my home, and they just happened to be yours. It wasn’t a favor—it was just a sale.”
“Whatever,” Grace says, rolling her eyes and waving her hand. “Call it what you want. It was the biggest pay day of my life, and I owe you forever.”
“You don’t,” I insist. “But Icoulduse your help.” I look down at my clothes and then at Grace’s. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a loose sweater over the top. It’s cute. Casual. Exactly what I’m looking for. “Would you come shopping with me so I can buy something a bit more laid back?” I glance at my athleisure wear. “I mean, classier than this. But something more casual than my pencil skirts and heels.”
“Oh my god, really? You want to go shopping with me?” Grace claps her hands together, then looks at Mabel. “Do you mind?”
“Go for it,” Mabel agrees. “It’s not like we have a line out the door or anything.” She gives me a wistful look. “I only wish I could go with you guys. There’s this thrift store a fewblocks away I just love. It’s where I find all my cutest clothes, like the outfit I’m wearing today.” She steps out from behind the counter, and I do my best to keep my face blank. Mabel is wearing a pair of corduroy overalls and a grey thermal, plus a pair of heavy utility boots—like she’s headed to the garden right after work, and knowing this town, she probably is.
“What a shame,” I say, then turn to Grace. “Ready?”
“Just be back before I have to go,” Mabel calls after us as we head out the door. “I was late yesterday picking up the kids from school, and Grayston never let me live it down.
“Got it!” Grace calls. To me, “Grayston is her oldest. He’s eleven, but he acts like he’s forty. Probably because he’s the man of the house now. Then there’s Alex, she’s the middle child, and the baby is Logan.”
“And their dad?” I ask as we approach my car. I don’t know why I’m asking—it’s obvious there’s no father in the picture, especially if Grace is helping to pay the bills.
Fucking deadbeat.
“He died a year and a half ago, just before Logan was born.”
I didn’t expect that. I don’t even know what to say, though I feel bad for judging Mabel’s fashion choices too hard.
We get in the car, but before I pull from the curb, I look at Grace. “Is she doing okay?”
Grace nods. “It was hard. Sometimes it’s still hard, but we’re managing. If it weren’t for this town though, I don’t know.” Grace goes on, describing how the town pitched in with meals, helped keep up the yardwork, and even helped Grace move all her things over to Mabel’s house so she could help lighten the load.
“There’s always someone willing to help with rides for the kids or babysitting when Mabel can’t be in three places at once.” Her face gets serious then. “I think it’s hardest for Grayston, though. He was really sad at first, then angry, and then he kindof went into project mode, making sure all the things his dad used to do were being done. He’s out there mowing the lawn every Saturday. He makes sure Alex does her homework. He even helps Mabel clean up after dinner every night. You don’t even have to ask him.”
“Sounds like this is how he’s coping,” I say.
