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“Seems like she was keeping busy,” Bunny mused.
“Always!” Maude’s head dipped as though to say, ‘that’s a fact’. “You know your mama, always on the move.”
Bunny pursed her lips. “I did hear that Dr Goode had only just given her a clean bill of health.” She glanced speculatively at Maude. “Told her she was as fit as a fiddle.”
“Well, it don’t take a map to know where you heard that from,” Maude snorted. She finished filling Morticia’s tank, cleaned the gas tank opening and the nozzle with a rag, and then threw the rag back into its bucket. “That Prissy Bishop’s got a mouth like a bullfrog. Just as loud and twice as wide.” She huffed but continued. “That’s true, I’m afraid, from what I could gather from Dr. Goode himself. He couldn’t tell me much, on account of client confidentiality. Course those rules don’t seem to count when it comes to pillow talk.”
“Prissy Bishop and Caleb Goode?” Bunny frowned. “He’s twice her age, and then some.”
“There,” Maude smirked, before winking. “Now you got a little Goode gossip of your own. Use it wisely.”
Bunny grinned impishly. The familiar sensation of the expression on her face took her right back to long hot summer days walking down to the Beep’n Sleep with Ben to buy ice cream, long before there was anything remotely like a grocery store in the middle of town.
“I will,” she promised, though she wouldn’t have blamed Maude a bit if the older woman didn’t believe her. She reached into Morticia for her purse. “How much for the gas?
“Your mama was a friend,” Maude said, waving her off. “Just be good. And if you can’t be good—” She paused, raising her brows at Bunny as she parroted one of Connie Major’s favorite sayings.
“—be careful!” the two women finished together.
* * *
The house wasdark when she arrived. She retrieved her overnight bag and her purse, slipping around Morticia’s front fender and up the few short steps onto the porch. When the pot of hydrangeas and the front door mat didn’t yield results, Bunny stood on tiptoe to feel on the top of the door frame for the spare key.
Light flooded the area suddenly, making Bunny yelp and dart backwards as the door opened. Her father stood there on the stoop in his underwear, brandishing a rolled-up newspaper like it was a weapon. He faltered when he saw the would-be robber was in actual fact his eldest child.
“Bunny!?”
“Dad?!”
Bunny looked at the baggy underwear her dad had on, then diverted her eyes up toward the starry night sky when she realized there was a very real chance his pants had holes in them.
“You near on gave me a damn heart attack!” Marshall complained, his voice a little shaky as though to illustrate his point.
“You’re not gettin’ off that easy,” Bunny grumbled, grabbing her bags.
“You couldn’t call first? What’re you doin’ here, Flopsy?” he asked, stepping aside for her.
“I just… needed t’see you is all,” she said, horrified at just how country she suddenly sounded. Crossing the threshold of her childhood home also transported her to the Land of Biscuits and Grits. She flicked on the light in the small but cozy kitchen—and then stared.
Takeout containers and dirty casserole dishes littered the counter space, along with piles of paper plates and plastic cutlery. Empty beer cans were nearly overflowing the sink, and the smell was definitely something else.
Bunny raised a brow and glanced back over her shoulder at her father, who had hastily thrown on the coat he kept by the door. He met her gaze before looking away guiltily.
She cleared her throat to flush out any Southernisms before speaking.
“What the hell is this?”
“Just fell a little behind in my housework,” her dad said, shuffling past her. He grabbed a trash bag from an unraveled roll on the counter and began scooping the worst of the mess into it. “It’s not a big deal.”
“No big deal?” Bunny repeated incredulously. She bent over to sniff a pizza box experimentally. She gingerly lifted the lid, peered inside, and then turned away in disgust. “Dad, there’s a giant rat in there, teaching ninjitsu to four turtles.”
“Har-har,” Marshall snarked. He was trying to sound authoritative, but Bunny could see the defeat in the slump of his shoulders ,and it broke her heart. She shelved any further lectures or jokes, instead grabbing a plastic bag. She began to empty the beer cans out of the sink, giving her dad a little time to breathe.
“Didn’t expect you,” he admitted sheepishly. She knew that meant ‘didn’t expect you to see me like this’.
She held back a sigh. “It’s okay, Dad. You’ve been through a lot. Nobody’s gonna blame you for not cleaning the kitchen and eating your weight in takeout.”
Her dad turned away from her to clear the counter. Once his back was turned, he released the sigh she’d held in. “It’s not just the kitchen.”
