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The woman listens as the girl points and then says something in protest. Finally, she turns and calls over her shoulder, “Again, I’m really sorry.”
“You should be,” I shout back. “We have a wedding tonight, and we can’t have some toddler destroying the backdrop.”
Chapter Eleven
Ruth
I’m going to put up a sign. I’ve fully decided. A sign that says keep your kids to yourself, and I’m going to stick it in the yard at the property line. I’ll have it custom made at Willy’s in town, so it looks nice. I have no idea if the girl is even old enough to read, and then I realize I don’t care. If that doesn’t work, I’ll look into getting an electric fence.
The last thing I need running around here is a reminder of what I can’t have.
“Ruth?” I’m spraying blood off the cobblestone when Davis comes ‘round and asks if the house feels hot to me. His face is worse than it was last night, and that is saying a lot. He’s worried in a way that makes him look bone tired and thin. I imagine Johnny laid into him good after what happened with the truck. He blames the Holts, which means he blames Davis for beating up Bobby Holt. By doing so, he put the rest of our lives in danger. I feel for Davis; the guilt is written all over his face. I wonder if he’s okay. But I know better than to ask. “What do you mean hot?” I imagine the house going up in flames.
“Hot,” he says. “As in the air conditioner isn’t working.”
“How would I know? I’m outside.”
He drops his head back and looks up at the sky. “I see that, Ruth. I’m asking if you noticed anything.”
“Yeah. First, my car got shot up, and I nearly died. Then I got trapped in the woods with Ms. America, which I wouldn’t recommend. She’s not the outdoorsy type. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, some kid tore up the garden. And now, I’m cleaning up her mess.”
“Lily, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“We met her this morning. Ashley invited her over.”
“She what?”
“Hypothetically, Ruth. She invited her over hypothetically.”
“It didn’t look very hypothetical when she was pulling up Mama’s hydrangeas.”
“Anyway—the AC. Any idea how long it’s been since it has blown cool air?”
“Probably since 1967.”
He rolls his eyes. It’s kind of pathetic, seeing that one of them is still swollen shut. “Forget it,” he snaps. “I’ll ask Johnny.”
“Davis?”
His back straightens before he pauses and turns. “Yeah?”
“Without air conditioning, we’re going to be in bad shape.”
“I know that, Ruth.” He says it in his usual confident way, but I wonder if he does know. There are caterers to assist and floral deliveries and a ton of things to do to make sure everything unfolds as it should. Davis never handles any of it. This is the happiest day of someone’s life, or at least it’s supposed to be. My job is to make sure it’s not our fault if it isn’t.
“Come on,” Davis waves. He turns off the water at the spigot. “The sidewalk is clean, and we’re going to need an extra hand.”
I don’t believe him. I think what he wants is an intermediary, and just like Mama, and apparently everyone else in this town, I’m a sucker where Davis is concerned, and so I go.
“I hate weddings,” Johnny complains. I can’t say I blame him. The sun is high overhead, and it’s sweltering out. He’s leaning over an air conditioner unit with a wrench in one hand and a YouTube video playing on Davis’s phone in the other. Johnny thinks he can handle everything himself, and at the same time, he’s pissed about having to help. His little brother insinuating he needs a YouTube tutorial is one more nail in the coffin.
Davis should know better. Johnny’s an expert in all things, and he’s about to make the rest of us pay for the fact that we can’t see it.
“They rake in the money though, weddings do,” Davis says. “And God knows we need it.”
I say nothing because this is a conversation I don’t want to have. I already know where everyone stands on the matter. Each time it comes up, an argument ensues, and then no one speaks to each other, except that living in such close quarters and running a business you can’t really help it. The subject is like lighting a stick of dynamite and waiting around for it to explode.
