A Coventry Wedding. Becky Cochrane
and Aunt Ruby can stay in Laughlin as long as you want,” Jandy said. “Hud and I decided to postpone the wedding.”
“You broke it off?”
“No! We’re just rescheduling.”
“Cut it kind of close, didn’t you? Was this your idea or his?”
She sighed and admitted that it had been hers, although she wasn’t sure why she’d done it. “I know I’ve messed up everybody’s plans—”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said. He obviously didn’t want to talk about her mother any more than she did, because he said, “You ought to go to Redlands. You know where the key is. When Ruby and I get home, she can spoil you rotten. And you can help me in the grove. That’s the best distraction there is: hard work in the fresh air.”
“I was way ahead of you,” Jandy said. “I forgot you were in Laughlin. I had to break in to your house after I sold my SUV to that guy in Palm Springs. I’m using one of your trucks. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve driven it to visit a friend.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Grandpa said. “Which truck?”
“The gold Ford.”
“I hope you didn’t go far,” Grandpa said. “I think she’s got a cracked block or something wrong with the gasket. I used some seal additive, but don’t let her get too hot, and don’t drive alone at night. Where did you say you were?”
“Grandpa, are you still there? I can’t hear you,” Jandy said, further honing her skills as a habitual liar. Maybe she should run for president. That was the ultimate temp job. “I’ll call you soon!” she yelled and disconnected the call.
She checked the time. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and now it was too late to wash her hair. It would take forever to dry, and all she wanted was to go back to sleep. At least she felt better now that someone knew where she was. Or sort of knew.
She turned off the TV, crawled under the covers, and closed her eyes. She kept seeing the road stretch in front of her and hearing the way Sam talked so affectionately to Sue. The thought of the two of them curled up on the bed in Sam’s room made her feel a little envious.
You want to be cozy in bed with a man other than Hud? Pru asked.
“Of course not,” she mumbled.
It would be nice to have a big dog like Sue for company. Not Sam. Although Sam wasn’t really a bad guy. He was kind of adorable. She wondered if he had a boyfriend. Too bad he didn’t live in L.A. She could hook him up with one of Hud’s gay friends. Then again, she wouldn’t recommend getting involved with anybody in the industry. Very few of them were as stable and centered as Hud.
It was a pointless train of thought. Sam didn’t live in L.A., and she had other things to worry about. Only not her wedding, or Hud, or her mother. She needed a break from all that.
Break…broken truck…cracked block…gasket…seal additive. She had no idea what any of it meant, but it definitely sounded more plausible than a rotary beater or a defibrillator.
She fell asleep to the sound of her own giggling.
Chapter 4
“If all of Texas looks like this, I’ll need that gun of yours to shoot myself,” Jandy broke the silence the next morning. She’d never seen more boring scenery in her life. She hadn’t been tempted even once to take her new camera out of her purse.
“You never said where you’re from,” Sam answered. He didn’t seem too upset by her criticism of his home state.
“That’s right. I didn’t,” she said.
His tendency to fight a grin whenever she was annoying was starting to grow on her. She turned around and looked at Sue, who was staring out the window with her tongue practically hanging to her knees. If dogs had knees.
“Do dogs have knees?”
“On their hind legs,” he said. “But it’s called a stifle, not a knee.”
“Right,” she said.
She wondered if his need to rename things was some kind of mental illness. He’d probably call his condition rabies. Or herpes. Or chick peas. Chick Pea Syndrome didn’t sound so bad. Almost healthy, in fact.
“The scenery will get better once we’re out of West Texas.”
Sam’s voice momentarily distracted her from her delirious interior rambling. Maybe she was suffering from whatever made people see mirages when they were trapped in the desert. Or were mirages caused by dehydration? She wasn’t particularly thirsty, just numbed by the unchanging landscape.
“I don’t think we’ll ever be out of West Texas,” she said and lapsed into silence again.
Silence didn’t really bother her. It never had. She’d been alone so much as a kid that she was used to it. Even with her friends—Hud’s friends—she preferred to stay quiet, which worked out well, since most of them liked nothing better than to be the center of attention. At least they never felt like she was stealing their spotlight.
She tried to remember if she’d ever been one of those little girls who chattered. At home, her parents mostly talked about business. Whenever she wasn’t in her room, or hanging out with Aunt Ruby—who was herself quite a talker—she kept her nose in a book. She learned that as long as she drew no attention to herself, her parents wouldn’t ask her too many questions or expect too much from her.
She was just as quiet at school. Even her sport had been a silent one. She’d figured out in seventh grade that swimming gave her a reason for getting out of the house before her parents’ alarm went off in the mornings. The swimming coach just as quickly figured out that Jandy didn’t have the competitive drive necessary for an athlete. Coach Sims didn’t mind if she practiced before school with the team, though. She also didn’t mind picking up Jandy on her way to the natatorium. In return, Jandy helped put away equipment and kept the locker room tidy. None of the other girls ever seemed curious about her presence. They just assumed she was one of the coach’s student assistants. Nor did her parents ever question why they never got asked to swim meets. They were probably glad she didn’t expect them to attend anything that would take them away from work.
It was depressing to think that her inability to find a profession that she loved was nothing more than rebellion against her parents’ workaholic tendencies. She’d quit college after three semesters. She’d started court reporting school and dropped out. The same went for her attempts at retail management, paralegal training—she didn’t want to think of all the programs she’d started and never finished over the past seven years. It worked out better for her to have temp positions. She could always leave when she got tired of a job or when an employer tried to hire her for something permanent.
Maybe she’d wanted to postpone the wedding because marriage had started feeling too much like a permanent, full-time job. That was a horrible thought. She loved Hud. She wanted to be his wife. It was the elaborate wedding, not the idea of marriage, that had spooked her.
She sighed. She wished she were swimming right then instead of riding through barren desert. In the water, no problem seemed insurmountable. Swimming made her feel like an efficient machine being pushed to its physical limits, and her mind cleared itself of thoughts that confused or troubled her. If only there were a way to be paid to do nothing but swim. Probably if she had to do it, though, she’d quit swimming, too.
“You’ve sighed about five times in three minutes,” Sam said. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“Really? I’ve never been told I’m a good talker.” She was again rewarded with his half grin. “Do you like working on cars?”
He frowned and took his sunglasses from the visor. He didn’t turn to look at her when he said, “I need to make a confession.”
“If