AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Hush," Fancy said, but laughing anyway. "Speaking of not judging a book by its cover, how are the art lessons going?"
Abigail stilled, her mind flipping to the intimacy between her and her instructor the other night. "We've only had one lesson. I suck at drawing."
"Language," her mother warned.
"Oh, please.Suckis a perfectly good word. Don't act like you don't use it."
"Me? I'd never use language unsuitable for a preacher's wife," Fancy said, a twinkle in her eye. Abigail knew very well her mother dropped the occasional curse word, but that was what made Fancy Beauchamp one of Magnolia Bend's most-liked women. She could bake a mean pie, dance the tango, and believed a well-placed curse word was effective.
"The class is filled with women."
"He's a good-lookin' man."
"But odd. He wears sandals with pants and has a ponytail."
"So did Jesus."
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Only you would compare Leif Lively to Jesus.”
"Why not? Both have magnetic personalities and woman kneeling at their feet."
"Would you be serious?"
Fancy reached out and tweaked Abigail's nose. "Lighten up, Francis."
"You're quotingStripes?Nice." Abigail stacked the three pillows at the end of the scarred wooden table. "So are you going to get around to what you really want to ask me?"
"You mean something besides how your art lessons with Mr. Yummy Yoga Pants have been going?"
Abigail couldn't help herself. She chuckled.
Her mother brushed her wispy red hair from her face. "Now, that's the Abi I love. Big laugh. Fun girl."
Abigail snorted. Yeah, right. Her mother remembered things differently than she did.
"I still laugh."
"Not often enough."
"Yeah, well, lifesuckssometimes."
Fancy sank into the fluffy armchair. "Come sit and tell me about Calhoun."
Abigail took the opposite chair, releasing a huge sigh. "Well, he's back. He says he's home to stay."
Fancy's gaze dissected Abigail's face. "You think he's serious about staying?"
"He says so. Morgan left him, presumably for another man. Quite frankly I'm surprised she lasted five years with him. She saw him as her ticket out of the bayou, but no one could have told Cal that. He was so certain he'd missed out on the life he was supposed to live."
"What a dumb ass," Fancy said.
Abigail trilled, "Language."
"Yeah, yeah. I grew up a Burnside. My papa could make a sailor blush. Apple, tree, and all that. Besides, I say my prayers every night. The Good Lord knows Calhoun is a dumb ass, so forgiveness should be forthcoming.".
''True. So Cal's living with his parents and says Buster gave him his old job at the plant. That surprised me-Buster was furious at him for abandoning us to go chasing fame and fortune."
"Time has a way of healing anger for some folks. Buster loves Calhoun and the man isn't getting any younger. He needs someone to take over the business when he retires."
