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I fumble, then switch it to speakerphone.
“Boomer,” Gunner grunts under his breath.
“I’m Gen X!” I hiss, but then the phone is ringing.
I hold my breath for what feels like the longest ring. Then, it switches to an automated message.
“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you havereached this recording in an error, please check the number and try your call again.”
“What the fuck?” Zeke breathes.
Gunner leans forward, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenching. “Try again!” He orders.
Once again, I punch in the numbers carefully.
I hold my breath.
But the automated message plays once more. I feel like someone has punched me in the gut.
“That little bitch changed her number,” Zeke fumes.
“She obviously doesn’t wanna talk to us,” I say, then I lean over the bar and wave. “Three beers, please.”
“Well, what do we do next?” Gunner asks, but before we can answer, the cold ones are placed on the bar top before us.
I take a long swig, thinking. Aside from a show of brute strength, I’m not sure what to do next. Shit, I’m not even positive that Marigoldwantsus at all.
I glance up at the flat-screen hanging over the bar. There’s no sound on, but the eleven o’clock news is airing. I glance at it a moment, about to lose interest, but then I see a familiar face on the screen.
“What the fuck,” I mumble, but I jump to my feet. “We gotta turn the tv up!” I holler and I’m ready to climb up on the bar when the bartender brandishes the remote.
“Here,” The busty blonde says, snapping her gum as she rolls her eyes. She presses a button on the remote delicately, minding her talon-like nails.
I gawk at the screen. I feel my mouth hanging open.
“Our own local celebrity, Reverend Earl Bennett, would like to extend an invitation to everyone in our community to celebrate the wedding of his daughter, Marigold Bennett, to Thaddeus Fraley. The wedding will be held at noon this Saturday at…”
Instantly, I know what we have to do.
Chapter 34
Marigold
There’s a knock on my bedroom door, but I’m sprawled in bed and I don’t move. I’ve pulled shades and drawn the curtains so that it’s completely dark in here. I don’t even know what day it is anymore, and that’s the way I want it.
The door opens just a crack, but the light that seeps through makes me cover my face with my blanket.
“Marigold?”
It’s my stepmother’s voice. Prim and proper.
She swings the door open and switches on the light. I groan from underneath the covers.
“Come along!” Loretta claps her hands together in her obnoxious way. “You can’t mope under there forever! You have things to do today!”
Before Loretta can do it, I pull down the blanket. I glare at her. I’m a prisoner here. I’m the property of my father until I’m property of another man. Does she expect me to be happy about it?
“Sweetheart,” Loretta begins, but I bristle. Iam notandnever have beenher sweetheart. This woman cares that I keep up appearances, but nothing more.
