Page 64 of Missile Tow
I desperately needed him to believe I was a good man, like him, who was only human. A man who could be expected to be wise enough to understand I didn’t deserve what my ex did to me.
“I’m going to choose to trust you, Chip,” he declared. “I want to believe you’ll choose me, so I’ll do my very best to deal with what’s possibly coming.”
“And one more thing,” I continued. “I’m insecure as well, and like I said before, I’m afraid Evan will want you back now that John left him.”
“Like I said, not a chance,” he began, diverting his eyes when his phone began ringing from the coffee table. “Hang on a second. Lemme grab that, and then I want to discuss this more.”
Van hurried to the tree stump I used as a coffee table. After picking up the phone, his eyes widened when reading the caller’sID. Instead of accepting the call, he turned the screen to face me. The screen readEvan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Van
“I’d like to include you at my Christmas Eve dinner,” Sadie said, clearing her throat. “Of course, if you’ll consider my invitation.”
She’d surprised me when she came into the mercantile twice since her outburst in the parking lot, but an invitation was astonishing news after what she’d said to me. Chip urged me to avoid her, but that wasn’t my style. This was her third visit in as many days, and I did my best to serve her like I would any other customer.
“Have you spoken with Chip?” I asked, being careful to sound friendly. “I’m not sure he believes your previous invitation still stands.”
Sadie clutched at her neck, distress evident as she pinched her lips and glanced around the interior of the store. “Uhm,” she began, nervously trying to maintain eye contact.
I decided to make it easier on her. “Would you like me to check with Chip?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, son.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” I confirmed, shifting gears to make her feel comfortable. “How’s the planning coming for your dinner?”
She placed a dozen eggs on the counter and began rearranging a box of Hershey bars sitting near the cash register. After gathering her thoughts, she spoke. “I’m not sure anyone is attending now that I’m the topic of the gossip mill,” sheadmitted. “Well, James, my grandson, is, but I’m afraid I’ve offended the only other guest.”
My feelings about her were clouded by the memory of our last interaction. I’d assumed she was crazy and mean. But the older woman in front of me appeared nothing like that.
“I bet you’re concerned about nothing,” I soothed, hoping I sounded sincere. “You can count on me and Chip. And have you invited Bertie?”
A bright red flush started at her neck and moved higher than a thermometer in the desert as it raced up her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to reconsider her response.
“Bertie Baxley?” she croaked, acting as if she barely knew who that was. “Well, she… her and… me and…”
I interrupted her, sparing whatever word salad she was preparing. “Bertie will be all alone if Chip and I join you for dinner,” I said. “And she was kind enough to invite us to her home after hearing we may be without plans for Christmas Eve.”
“Of course she did,” Sadie harrumphed, pinching her wrist. “I mean… how thoughtful.”
My need to burst out laughing caught me off guard. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why two of the most prominent women in town despised one another. The two of them barely tolerated each other when in the same room.
Chip had explained that Sadie believed Bertie was a man stealer. Bertie believed Sadie was just angry because her father had forced her to marry a man she didn’t want to marry. The gossip was enhanced by Bertie’s belief that Sadie’s hand in marriage was traded for a few head of cattle.
“So,” I continued. “When I ask Chip about dinner, should I invite Bertie as well?”
“Bertie will decline,” she insisted. “She dislikes me.”
Chip was about to walk through the garage door when he spotted Sadie. He hesitated when I glanced his way. Apparently,he understood when I conveyed with my eyes that I was in the middle of some repair work.
“But what if Bertie doesn’t decline?”
The idea of her opening her home to Bertie appeared to put her squarely in the middle of a conundrum. I could tell she wanted Chip there, and assumed I was now invited because she’d heard Chip and me were a couple. But Bertie? That possibility obviously hadn’t been considered.
“I’m not sure I can seat that many guests,” she explained. “I mean, with me, James, Chip, you, John Thomas, and his folks, and then Bertie as well?”
“John? As in Chip’s ex?” I clarified, keeping my reaction as calm as I could.
“Why, yes,” she replied. “And his parents, Harold and Jeanie Thomas.”
