the beach, but when Tucker talks about his pain, mine surfaces right along with his.”
Dotty patted her on the knee. “This forgiving business is not a sprint but a marathon, chère.”
“But what happens at the end? If God or fate has predestined this whole thing, what is the endgame?” she asked.
“That, darlin’”—Flossie smiled—“is up to you. You get the final say-so. Whatever the universe did to put you where you are, including sitting here in the Tipsy Gator with three meddling old women, its job is finished. Now you make the choice.”
“Run beside him for a while in this marathon,” Dotty said. “If you don’t like his speed, get ahead of him or fall back. The ball is in your hands now.”
Jolene was glad that she’d wound up at the Gator, because she felt better. “Are you all speaking from experience?”
“We are,” Dotty said. “For me, it’s the life I had with Bruce. We were best friends all through our growing-up years. And, chère, it was not exactly the thing in those days. Girls’ best friends were girls. Boys’ were boys. I cried on his shoulder when my first boyfriend broke up with me. He did the same when his best friend died. We went down that path for many years, and then when we were in our twenties, we realized that somewhere back there we’d fallen in love.”
“And for me, well, I’m still hunting for my Bruce. I saw what Dotty had and I won’t settle for anything less,” Lucy said.
Jolene shifted her gaze to Flossie. “What’s your story?”
“Fell in love. Lost him to Vietnam. I had my girls here and your aunt to help me through it all. Sisters of the heart, darlin’, are as important as romance. Not saying that whatever the end of your journey with Tucker becomes isn’t important, but . . . how do I say this.” Lucy stumbled over the words.
“You’re stepping into Sugar’s shoes with us and we need you,” Dotty said softly.
“Good Lord!” Jolene gasped. “I’m not wise enough to do that.”
Lucy fluffed up her kinky hair with her hands. “That’s your opinion, not ours. And we need a fourth woman in this friendship wagon.”
“But Aunt Sugar is still available by phone when y’all have a problem,” Jolene said.
“Yes, she is, but she’s on a decades-late honeymoon with Jasper. We’ll talk to her about some stuff, but we don’t want to bother her too much. So accept it, child—we’re all in this together.” Flossie giggled.
Dark clouds hung in the sky as Jolene drove back to the Gator that evening. Cars and trucks were already parked and waiting for the doors to open when Jolene arrived. Dotty had been right about drinkers finding their way to a bar.
But then, Elaine had proven that years ago. And once Jolene started bartending, she’d seen it for herself. Once her mother had spent the night in her car when it slid off into a ditch. Thank God whiskey didn’t freeze, because if it did, she had enough in her that she could have died from the inside out. But even that wasn’t a speed bump for Elaine. The car had a few scrapes and a dented fender, but it wasn’t messed up too bad. It ran well enough to get her back out on the ice the next night so she could go to the bar again.
Dotty threw an apron toward Jolene when she saw her coming inside. Jolene wrapped it around her waist, bringing the strings back to the front and knotting them in a perfect bow. She’d learned long ago to never tie it in the back when a customer reached over the bar and pulled the strings. Her tips had gone flying every which way, right along with her pen and notepad.
“So did you bring a go-bag so you can stay with me if it gets too slick to drive?” Dotty asked as she picked up an apron.
“No, I’ve driven in snow up to the runnin’ boards and even outran a tornado a couple of times. I’ll be fine,” she said.
Dotty opened the door, and only five people came inside. Mickey was one of them, and instead of standing or sitting beside the door, he hiked a hip on a barstool. “I got a job with a beer delivery company out of Tyler, and I think every store in East Texas is stocked up and ready for this storm. I was wonderin’ if you’d let me off tonight. My girlfriend is worried