“Cardona here hasn’t learned that if he keeps playing games with the ladies, he’s going to get burned,” Elvira predicted.
“I’m the fire chief. I think I can handle the heat.” Michael gave Phoebe an exaggerated wink.
--------
John wished he could just part the crowds like a tight end and drag Phoebe out of here. He hadn’t been expecting such an enthusiastic reception to his idea, had actually thought there was a good possibility it would flop. But the dozen farmers standing between him and beating the hell out of Cardona seemed to really like the idea.
He tried to focus on what Old Man Carson was saying, but his attention kept getting dragged back to Phoebe laughing up into Cardona’s asshole face. The guy was probably charming the hell out of her and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. His friend never knew when to quit with a joke.
Ernest Washington, one of Carson’s friends since birth laid a hand on John’s arm. “How about we all get together out at John’s later this week to discuss? Sunday work for everyone?” There were nods and “yeps” around the circle surrounding them. “Good. See you all Sunday at 3. Bring beer.”
The crowd dispersed, and John turned to Ernest. “Thank you.”
“Don’t waste time thanking me. Go get your girl away from Prince Charming before he casts his spell on her.”
John didn’t bother arguing that Phoebe wasn’t his girl. He dove into the milling crowd and waded his way toward her. Town meetings always took forever because once Blue Moon got to talking, it was impossible to shut them up. He didn’t blame Mayor Nordemann for skipping out on this one on account of his eczema acting up.
He side-stepped a heated conversation about TV dinners between the town librarian Sylvia and Mrs. McCafferty from the farm store. He was within feet now, and his fingers flexed with the desire to drag Michael out of his seat and throw him down in the aisle. He’d warned him, hadn’t he?
But his chances at a surprise attack were decimated when Jillian Nordemann jumped in front of him. “There’s our farm hero,” she chirped, hands clasped under her chin. “Tell me everything. How’s life on the farm with Phoebe?”
John’s anger was temporarily deflected onto the new target. “Jillian. Why did you tell me Phoebe was a man?”
Jillian’s cat-that-ate-the-canary expression told him it hadn’t been an accident. “Why, that’s ridiculous! Why wouldn’t I have told you Phoebe was a woman?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. That’s why I’m asking,” he said flatly.
She brought a finger to her chin and tapped it. “I assure you I never meant to mislead you.”
Jillian Nordemann was a bald-faced liar.
“Actually. Now that I think about it, I’m sure this mix up is all your fault. Why on earth would you think a man was named Phoebe?”
“You didn’t tell me his… her name was Phoebe. You said Allen.”
“Phoebe Allen,” Jillian nodded, pleased. “That’s her name.”
“You left out the Phoebe part,” he growled.
“Oh, my! Did I? How silly of me.” She fanned her face. “Are you quite sure? That doesn’t sound like something I would forget.”
The ditz card had never been particularly successful with John, and Jillian’s version was only giving him a headache.
“Are you sure I never mentioned Phoebe was a woman? Well, what exactly did you expect when I said Phoebe?”
“Youdidn’t sayPhoebe. YousaidAllen!” Ditzy and deaf were not endearing traits to John.
“Have you had that eye twitch looked at?” Jillian wondered, prodding him just under his right eye.
“I didn’t have it until Phoebe showed up when I was expecting Allen.” He was almost shouting now, and it still had no effect on the woman.
“Well, I’m glad it all worked out for the best,” she said, waving away his complaint. “It’s very important for her to graduate, and soon, you know. Especially since her father was in that dreadful accident. And her mother has never worked outside the home. Poor things are just drowning in debt. There just isn’t enough money at home for another semester let alone all those medical bills. You’re really doing her a wonderful favor by letting her stay the summer.”
John’s mouth opened and then closed again without any words escaping.
“Oh! There’s Mrs. Beezerman. I need to go ask her about Bunco Friday night. Excuse me.” She dashed off into the fray before John could explain to her what an injustice she’d done to him or grill her about Phoebe’s family.
John decided giving chase wouldn’t give him any satisfaction. What would was making Cardona think he was going to pound his face in.