Page 72 of Cookout Carnage
‘You have a solution?’ she asked them warily.
‘Of course, we do,’ replied Emmett matter-of-factly. He drew back his shoulder and puffed up his chest. ‘We’ve been training for this moment all our lives.’
‘We?’
‘MAD,’ supplied Clara before turning to Amy. ‘We’ll get Lucille on board and the Thads as background artists.’
‘Mad?’
‘Midway Amateur Dramatics,’ said Emmett, extending an arm with a flourish. I’m the president, Clara’s the secretary and Amy’s our rising star.’
‘And your plan is?’ Sherilyn asked, waves of panic starting to build.
‘To put on a show bigger than the Fourth of July!’ proclaimed Emmett. He put his arm around Clara and they beamed across the table at her.
‘Meet your new family!’
24
Kentucky summers were hot and humid but felt like midwinter in Montana compared to the current microclimate in Lynne Bodean’s kitchen. Her eldest baby was on his way home from the state penitentiary, so she was frying, baking, broiling and barbecuing all his favourite foods.
Sherilyn had tied a scarf around her head as a sweatband, and the only clothes under her apron were a bikini and a pair of Daisy Dukes. The two women had downed a pitcher each of ice water already. Her mother’s hair was plastered to her sweaty face, but she seemed happy, humming as she worked.
Sherilyn hadn’t seen her brother in over two years. He’d always been a big man but judging by the amount of food their mama was preparing, he was now the size of a house. She clenched her teeth to stop herself retching as she cut lamb testicles into strips. A bowl of pig intestines sat on the counter in front of her, waiting for their turn on the stovetop. As well as the lamb fries and chitlins, Fender had ordered catfish, burgoo made with rabbit, venison, ham with red-eye sauce, biscuits with sausage gravy, smoked brisket and macaroni cheese, and every side dish that could be deep-fried. The kitchen felt like a Disney snuff movie set in the fires of hell, and Sherilyn was currently fantasising about moving to the North Pole for the climate and distance from her family.
Tristan was due that afternoon, so she was rehearsing her excuses for why she would have to leave the house for an hour. It wasn’t just the sight of an animal’s insides flipping her stomach. Every time she thought of him, a jolt of electricity shocked her body, every cell jumping up then falling back down in a slightly different place. Would the plan Amy, Clara and Emmett concocted work? One thing was certain, Tristan Fawcett-Underwood could not sit down with an ex-con over a bowl of fried guts with beer sauce and look at her the same way ever again.
Her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. She rinsed her hands and pulled it out, nearly dropping it in shock when she saw the message on the home screen.
Tris: Hey, Hot Sauce, I’m here!
No, no, no, no, noooooooooooooo!
Tris: I got to town early, so I’m at the rental and unpacked. I’m a bit hungry so thought I’d wander into town and find some food.
Sherilyn: NO!
Tris: OKAY!
Tris: Are we back to DEFCON CAPS LOCK?
Sherilyn: No, sorry. Don’t move. I’m coming now.
Tris: You sure? I don’t want to pull you away if you’re in the middle of something.
‘Sherri-Lynne honey,’ called her mom. ‘Can you go out back and skin the rabbits for me please? Your pa forgot to do it before he left this morning.’
Sherilyn bit back a scream. ‘Sure, Mama.’
‘And see if you can quiet Wiener down or shoot that darn squirrel.’
‘Okay, but then I’ve got to run and pick up something for Fender.’
Her mom turned from the stove and gave her a smile. ‘Bless your heart, Sherri-Lynne. I can’t wait to have all my babies back with me.’
Sherilyn gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then ran to the yard. Wiener was yapping at the base of a tree, refusing to give up his attempt to climb it after the squirrel. She pulled the rabbits from where they were hanging, threw them down on a prep table and picked up her phone.
Sherilyn: PLEASE stay put. I’ve got one small job to do for Mama, then I’ll be right over.
