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“Hey, Janie,” he said, standing up like his Ma had taught him as she approached, meeting her halfway. “You hungry? Can I buy you dinner?”
She shook her head nervously so the smooth ends of her dark, shoulder-length hair twitched.
“You meeting someone?” he asked, giving her the biggest smile he could manage.
“Just you,” she said, lower lip fluttering with nerves or sadness, he couldn’t tell which. Her brown eyes pooled up at him. “I saw your truck, Hank, thought we might talk.”
“Sure, we can talk,” Hank said, taking a long swig of beer, trying not to taste the sour sadness welling in his gut.
“How about we go, like, outside?” Janie asked nervously, looking around. “I don’t want to do this in here.”
“Sure, Janie-Jane, let’s talk outside.” Hank set his beer on the bar, put a hand to her back, and steered her towards the door.
When they got out on the porch, he saw tears rolling down Janie’s cheeks and his heart about stopped.
“Aw, Janie, please don’t cry. I wanted to tell you about Daisy weeks ago, I just didn’t know what to say.”
She nodded furtively, wiping her cheeks with her hand. “How’s Daisy been, Hank? I was real sorry to hear about the accident. Is she getting better?”
Pushing away the familiar punch of remorse, he nodded. “She’s stronger now, took first place Sunday up in Jacksboro on Lucky, the same horse that threw her. Doctors say she’s coming along fine.”
“I know you two were close as kids. . .It’s been no secret to me you had feelings for her, Hank. I remember how it always was between you, some kinda attraction, it’s just. . . ” Janie’s chin was down, and the tears started rolling. Before he knew it, her chest was huffing, too. Little puffs of air came from rosebud lips as she tried to compose herself.
He put his arms to her shoulders. “Janie, Janie-girl, hell, I’m sorry, I am. I didn’t know how hard this was gonna be on you. You’re a great girl, you know that? And so pretty and kind. We had good times together, real good times. I can’t tell you what you mean to me, it’s just . . .”
“Just not as good as the times you have with Daisy, right?” she sputtered. “I mean, I don’t know alfalfa from Bermuda grass. I know I should understand about this, I’m trying to, Hank, it’s just. . .hard. When nobody wants you. . .”
She started crying for real then and Hank couldn’t figure out what else to do, so he put his hand on her smooth hair and pulled her to his chest, holding her there while her tears spilled.
*******
Cruising down Main Street with the top down, Daphne’s CD player blaring Sixpence None the Richer, and she sang “Kiss Me” with Leigh Nash at the top of her lungs. Daisy rode shot gun, sucking down the Dot Top’s teaberry milkshake.
Daphne screeched to a stop at the light in front of Hymie’s Nine Band Armadillo. “You wanna go in, have yourself a margarita?” she giggled, turning to her sister.
But Daisy’s face was sheet white.
Daphne followed her sister’s gaze to the front porch of Hymie’s. In dusk’s rosy light, Hank Gallagher was putting his arms around Janie Dupree, pulling her close and stroking her hair.
*******
Next morning, Daisy didn’t feel well. In fact, she felt downright miserable, turning the shower on full blast so Daphne wouldn’t hear her puke.
Her severe headaches had lessened, replaced by a stomach queasiness that came in waves; she’d lost her breakfast Monday, and Tuesday, she’d found herself behind Ty’s barn at lunchtime, tossing the contents of her stomach until dry heaves came. Maybe it was just a flu; she hoped so, but her period hadn’t come yet, not since she’d taken Plan B.
After Daphne left in her convertible, for an errand run to town, Daisy called the hotline. The nurse said not to worry, likely the Plan B had interrupted her cycle, which would be irregular anyway after all the weight she’d lost with the accident and she could always get a test at her local drugstore.
The nurse went over pregnancy symptoms and Daisy didn’t have them: no breast tenderness, no excessive urges to pee. . . Still, it sent her into a panicky worry. None of it had mattered so much when she was sure she could count on Hank.
But things were different between them now. . . If she was pregnant, she didn’t want to know, not until she’d tried to set things right with Hank.
Later that afternoon, her cramps started. She cut out of Ty’s early and went home for tampons, then climbed into bed and pulled up the covers, feeling uneasy. The little bit of blood upset her. She hadn’t wanted to be pregnant, but she had started thinking it wouldn’t be so bad, having a baby with Hank. In fact, thinking over all the sweet things he had said to her, it had started to seem kind of nice. A baby hadn’t been any part of her dreams, but it had been Hank’s. And now he was further away than ever.
She had to face that whatever she thought she had with Hank was probably never going to happen. It hurt, more than she’d ever thought it could.
