Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I set the new alarm system, complete with a panic button under the bar, and went out the back door to my powder blue truck. My heart felt like it had a million porcupine needles poking at it. I hated funerals, but this one would be impossible to get through with dry eyes, even for me.
I hopped behind the steering wheel, and my phone rang. Caller unknown. “Hello?”
“How have you been?” asked the gruff voice.
I froze with fear. The tornado had finally touched down. “What do you want?”
“I understand your friend’s funeral is today. Sorry I cannot accompany you, but the sunlight and I do not get along.”
Sure. Right. “What do you want?” I growled.
“You did well, lying to the police and everyone else.”
“How do you know what I did? Maybe I told them everything. They might be lookin’ for you right now.” I hoped my words might ward him off.
He laughed. “If that were true, I would have been made aware. I have many friends in this town, Masie. Never forget that.”
Liar. Who the heck would want to be friends with him? “Again, what do you want? I have a funeral to get to.”
“After our last encounter, I realized that I need to make a grand gesture in order to win your trust.” He paused. “I like that about you. Any woman of mine should be skeptical of everyone—see the world as their adversary.”
“I am not your woman.” You crazy asshole.
Sorry, Mamma. I just can’t stop the bad words.
“But you will be after you see how sweet life is when you share it with someone who understands you. You will never have to hide your dark soul from me, Masie. I will embrace it.”
Dark soul, my ass. For heaven’s sake, I was still a virgin—not that being a virgin indicated saintliness or purity of heart, but it spoke to how I lived my life. I only did things that felt right. I lived a good, honest, and wholesome life. Well, as best I could. Nobody was perfect.
“You will meet me tonight at Deedee’s grave. One o’clock. Do not be late,” he warned.
“’Scuse me? Absolutely not.”
“Do you not wish to see my gift? It is an atonement for not saving her.”
I scoffed. “What? You gonna bring her back from the dead with your vampire sauce?” That was how they did it in the movies. The vampire made a person drink their blood, and then they woke up all pale and fangy.
He laughed. “I am not about to ruin the surprise, but I promise you will thank me. Do not be late, or there will be blood on your hands.”
The call ended.
The funeral was just as miserable as I’d imagined, filled with enough tears to fill our local swimming hole. There were touching photos of Deedee’s first steps and school dances, and cherished memories shared by everyone who knew her. Most of the stories centered around how Deedee had been there for people at one time or another, never judging, never saying things like “Well, whaddya expect? You’re an idiot.” She’d helped people in their times of need without expecting anything in return.
All the while, I kept thinking how lucky I’d be if that many people showed up after the good Lord tapped me on the shoulder to rejoin his bowling team. Yes, that was how I imagined heaven. Bowling, outdoor movie night, sack races, and pink lemonade—all the good stuff.
Anyway, it wasn’t that I didn’t have friends or family. But did I truly let people in like Deedee had? Did I show them I cared?
Truth was, I didn’t.
Sure, I was polite and kind. I treated people with respect except when they didn’t deserve it. I was trustworthy and responsible. Still, at the end of the day, I kept my heart just out of reach from the entire world.
Maybe because my daddy died when I was at such a vulnerable age. Maybe because everyone in town immediately identified me as that “poor new girl from Kentucky” who’d just lost a parent, and they pitied me. In response, I buried my feelings and pasted on a sweet smile. I let them see the person I wanted to be. Strong.
After a while, I just got used to pretending.
Not that I wasn’t strong for real—no one survived my kind of grief and didn’t come out the other side with a certain preparedness for the world. Still, my need to survive emotionally had pushed me inside myself.
Sad how it took a funeral to learn all that. Sweet little Deedee had been a bona fide superwoman. I was not.
After the burial, I went home and locked up the house tight. I wasn’t going to the cemetery tonight. No way in Sam Hill was I ready to see Deedee’s grave again so soon, and I was much safer here with Betsy and her bucks.