Sweet Tea and Secrets Read Free Page B

the ignition.
    Hiccup.
    Stress had a way of bringing on the hiccups. Always had. She took in a deep breath and held it.
    Hiccup .
    That never works , she thought and exhaled loudly.
    At least the hiccups hadn’t given her away at the hall. She had no desire to discuss this with Bradley yet.
    She hurried into the house, paused at the staircase and listened.
    Nothing. Annie must be out for the evening.
    At least that was going her way. She and Annie, Bradley’s housekeeper, hadn’t seen eye-to-eye since the first day Jill set foot in this house. That girl didn’t have one southern dish in her recipe box or a hospitable bone in her body. But Bradley was nothing if not loyal to those that stuck by him, and she’d been with him for seven years. So, microwavin’ Annie was here to stay.
    Hiking up the skirt of her gown, Jill took the stairs two at a time in her bare feet. The smell of Bradley’s aftershave still hung in the air. She dashed into the bedroom, but paused at the sight of her image in the full-length mirror. There was no argument that her black gown was beautiful. But Pearl had always reserved black for funerals, so she had, too.
    Until tonight.
    When Bradley had surprised her with the fancy one-of-a-kind gown this morning, she’d had a bad feeling.
    Always trust your intuition.
    Jill pulled the bad karma dress over her head and slung it across the room.
    Her practical side forced her to cross the room, pick up the high-dollar wad off the floor, and smooth it before hanging it properly on a padded hanger on the back of the bathroom door.
    Hiccup.
    The beads on the designer dress sparkled, taunting her. She’d probably been slipping into it when Pearl took her last breath.
    She stepped into the adjoining closet and grabbed another hanger and tippy-toed to hook the handle of her suitcase on the top shelf of the closet. The hot pink luggage fell to the floor in front of her. A Christmas gift from Bradley, the bright and cheery patterned suitcase had been perfect. There wasn’t anything bright or cheerful about today though. She pulled down Bradley’s smaller black suitcase instead, catching it mid-air.
    Jill heaved the bag across the bed, tossed in the essentials, and then pulled the zipper closed. After a quick change into jeans and an old Virginia Tech t-shirt, she headed downstairs. The suitcase slammed against each step. It wasn’t heavy. It just somehow felt liberating to do that to spite Bradley at the moment.
    Following one good hiccup , the suitcase slipped from her hand, hit the next step at an angle, and tumbled the rest of the way down. After taking the last few steps, she stood in the foyer, contemplating. She ripped a sheet of paper from the notepad on the hall table and held the pen between her clenched fingers, waiting for something to come to her. Then she wrote:

You knew.
How could you not tell me?

    Jill slid the paper next to the phone. She winced when she realized she’d written in such a fury that the words gouged the fine wooden table. It was a small price for him to pay for what he’d done.
    With only one way in or out of the neighborhood, she prayed she’d get out of there before Bradley showed up . She headed to the car, tossed her suitcase in the back, and then accelerated down the driveway.
    If he shows up now, he’ll find out what an all out southern hissy fit looks like. And it ain’t gonna’ be pretty .
    When Jill got to the I-95 ramp she dialed Aunt Milly.
    “Aunt Milly, it’s me.” Her chin quivered. “I talked to Garrett. I still can’t believe Pearl’s gone.”
    “I’d talked to her not an hour before. We were going to go to the market. Y’know, like we always do.”
    Milly’s voice lacked its usual energy. “She said she didn’t need anything, but I needed some milk and fruit. Anyway, Doc said she must’ve taken one of her naps, and never woke up. It’s the way she would have wanted it.”
    Jill’s fingers tingled from squeezing the steering wheel so tight.