'Til Grits Do Us Part Read Free

Pine-Sol-ing Mom’s house for a prospective buyer who “decided to go in a different real-estate direction.”
    I’d like to show her another real-estate direction, all right. One right under the local train tracks.
    â€œTime for you to start gettin’ yer weddin’ together, woman! Yer family comin’?”
    â€œFamily? You mean Dad and Ashley?” I made a face. “I don’t think so. Dad wouldn’t come if his life depended on it, and Ashley will be sure to come and make herself the star of the show. Bossing me around. No thanks.”
    â€œAw, come on. You’re invitin’ ’em, ain’t ya?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I shrugged. “Why should I? They never change. Dad doesn’t care one bit what I do now that he’s got a new family. An apology for leaving me and Mom all those years ago? Fat chance. I know how he is.”
    Becky pursed her lips. “Well, ya never know. Might be like Jerry and all his highbrow books and surprise ya.” She winked. “People ain’t always what ya think. And life ain’t neither.”
    â€œRight. And I’m Garth Brooks.”
    Becky tittered. “Well, how’s the weddin’ plannin’ comin’, anyhow?”
    â€œPlanning? You think I know anything about planning a wedding?”
    â€œTell me about it! When Tim asked me to marry him, my mama carried around a satchel full a magazine clippin’s like I was Princess Diana or somethin’. It’s all she could talk about right up to the honeymoon. Shucks, I didn’t have to do a doggone thing ’cept sample cake an’ try on weddin’ gowns!”
    I stumbled slightly, feeling my stomach contract as I reached down to rub my leg. “Well, it’s not like I have a mom to help. So if I’m a little slow in the wedding department, you’ll have to excuse me.”
    I didn’t mean for my voice to turn bitter, but it did. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of Mom’s death—her gaping absence, like a hollow in a cow field filled with nothing but muddy water.
    Becky clapped a hand over her mouth. “Aw, Shah-loh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothin’. But you ain’t gotta worry—we’ll he’p ya! Ya got what, two months or so left?”
    â€œThat sounds right. Adam starts classes in August, so we picked the fourth. No. The third. I forget.” I rubbed my bleary eyes. “I’ve got it written down somewhere. Besides, it’s not like we have money for a wedding anyway.”
    â€œWhat about your book you wrote? Ain’t you gettin’ some cash for that?”
    â€œEnough to pay for Adam’s first year of college, since he sold his business to pay my back taxes.” I fingered my ring. “And that’s all it’ll pay for. It’s a small publisher.” I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll pick up some royalties when it goes to print at the end of the year, but not in time for August third.”
    â€œWell, you could always have your weddin’ at the gun range. I reckon they’d let ya have it for free for the afternoon.”
    I tripped on a rock, laughing. A sound that felt good in my ears. “Right. And Jerry can play the banjo for the reception.”
    â€œTim does fiddle. How ’bout it?”
    We chuckled together a few minutes, and then I looked over at her, night wind blowing strands of pale hair across her face. “Do you think I can do this, Becky?”
    â€œDo what? Git Jerry to play at your weddin’?”
    â€œNo! Live here in Staunton. Without family. Without…well, anything but you guys.” I rubbed my arms, shivering not just because of the cold. “A city the size of a MoonPie. Nothing ever happens here.”
    â€œYou crazy? You just said there’s a killer on the loose!”
    â€œI didn’t say that. Tim did.” I rolled my eyes. “I promise you,