Page 34 of The Belle and the Biker

Bobbi-Sue ducks back into the changing room and shuts the door, and everyone else scurries off to return to their shopping, murmuring to each other.

I leave with a few new outfits, a bellyful of Cheerwine, and a pretty good feeling. I was afraid of coming home, but it's not been as bad as I thought. Yes, a few people have made rude comments to me—but I didn't shrivel up and die. And some people have made it very obvious they're checking out my new, fuller figure and whispering to each other behind their hands, but when I turn and stare at them, they scurry off. And Daisy has been telling people that she has no problem with me.

Percy's such a wuss that he's taken off from the car dealership where he works for his daddy. Supposedly they urgently needed his assistance at another dealership they own near Asheville, but the truth is he's come down with a severe case of yellow belly.

I head on over to Bitter Bites to grab some lunch. I'm happy to see that the diner is packed and a good part of the crowd are tourists. From what I've heard, Daisy's family's hotel is booked solid for the next year, and they have to expand and add on rooms to accommodate all their wedding bookings.

As I leave the restaurant, I spot Beau and Mae Abernathy making their way toward a booth. Beau flashes me a look of alarm. A minute later, as I'm strolling down the street, he hurries up to me, huffing and puffing. The man's in his eighties, shaped like a whiskey barrel, and wears dungarees. What is all the fuss about?

"You won't mention this to your aunt, will you?"

I shake my head in amazement. "Beau, you are too…mature for this kind of tomfoolery, and you're liable to have a heart attack."

He grins, flashing alarmingly white dentures. "I'll die smiling."

I don't even try to hide my grimace of dismay. "Why don't you just pick someone and call it a day? Flip a coin, for heaven's sake."

"Why should I? I've got two fine women competing for my time. I'm going to enjoy it," he says stubbornly.

"Aggravate my aunt too much, and you're liable to enjoy the wrong end of her shotgun. And no, I won't tell her I saw you with Mae; I'm staying clear of this geriatric jamboree."

I'm still in good spirits as I head toward the general store, but my mood takes a dark turn when I see my father coming down the front steps. He's looking good, wearing a nice navy suit with a yellow pocket square. Like my mother, he never leaves the house unless he's dressed to the nines. The furrows on his forehead are deeper than I remember, and I'd like to think that's guilt at how he treated his only child.

We both freeze up and stare at each other.

"Well, this is awkward," I finally say. "Hello, Daddy. Where's my mother?"

"She's at that party at your aunt's. I think it's just wrapping up. I had some shopping to do." Ha. My father always makes excuses not to spend time with my mother. He manages a smile. "You're looking well. How have you been?"

I arch an eyebrow. "If you really wanted to know the answer to that question, you could have called me anytime over the last six months. If you weren't terrified of your wife, that is."

"Young lady. You don't take that tone with me." He scowls at me.

I stiffen my spine and look him right in the eye. "You lost the right to act paternal when you let my mother throw me out on the street." Wow. I talked back to Daddy, and lightning didn't strike me.

My father's shoulders sag. "It's just, you know how she is… I… She…”

I sigh. "I know she's been calling Aunt Hepzibah to check up on me, and I appreciate that."

"She has?" His eyes widen comically.

"For heaven's sake, do you two even talk?"

He just stands there, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Long, awkward seconds tick by. Finally, he breaks the silence. "Do you need money?"

I put a hand on one hip. "Do you need to ask Mother's permission first?"

His brow furrows. "She doesn't need to know everything."

"Then no, I don't want your money. And seriously, Dad? Life's too short to live like that. Grow a pair."

"What did you just say to me?" he splutters as I turn and walk away. I'm as surprised as he is. There was a time when I thought my daddy hung the moon.

The weather, like my mood, has turned gray and gloomy. Fat, dark clouds gather overhead, and I hurry to my car. There's a steady downpour by the time I hit the rural road that leads back to Sugar Hill.

A little ways down the road, I see a car halfway in a ditch. The ditch is rapidly filling with water, and Callie Abernathy is standing by the roadside. Her dress is soaked, and she's holding a newspaper over her head. I pull up next to her and roll my window down. Hooray! It's my good deed for the day.

"Move along, Skankzilla," she snaps.

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