the radio by singing to them without knowing the words.”
“Never walking the recyclables to the garage, just leaving them on the counter like they would grow legs and leave on their own.”
“Tea bags on the edge of our clean sink.”
“Long fingernails.”
And then … the original scratch-and-sniff comment took second place as Rhonda arrived late. And she’d heard the next comment all too clearly.
“He wanted to go down on me when it was that time of the month.”
Silence.
So much deafening silence.
Rhonda cleared her throat, clutching it at the same time, eyes like saucers. “Wh-what are we talking about, ladies?” She stressed the ladies as if to remind us that we were in fact expected to act like ladies.
Not whores.
At least, I felt like that was what Rhonda’s tone of voice insinuated. The whore part might have just been my guilty conscience. Abby letting Ryan go down on her during her period didn’t make her a whore. It made her … lucky? I was actually quite horny during my period, especially toward the end. But I didn’t have sex during it. Craig never even suggested it. And oral sex during that special time of the month? No way. But I didn’t like meat that wasn’t charred. Ryan probably liked his steak rare.
Abby, with her back to Rhonda, cringed. We all cringed, even if outwardly we tried to act like Mom didn’t just walk in on us talking about some bloody good sex.
“Abby was just remembering how Ryan would go down to the pharmacy during her menstrual cycle to get sanitary napkins and chocolate. What a total sweetheart, huh?” Bethanne for the save.
I wasn’t sure if Rhonda bought it, but there was no way she was going to question it and risk the actual topic going any further.
“That is sweet.” Rhonda eyed me. ME!
What did I do? Oh, right … I turned our church-based group into a confessional of all the things that drove people crazy about their significant other, instead of the gathering of gratitude and prayer that it was meant to be.
My bad.
Rhonda took a seat and cleared her throat—still eyeing me like the troublemaker. “I was sad to see your competitor using your product labels to promote his products. I know it’s smart marketing, but in such a small town, it felt like a low blow. I’m sure it was a desperate attempt to recover from the business he lost on Black Friday after Dr. Jennings blamed him for her illness that turned out to be something else. It’s all very unfortunate.” She took way too much pride in telling me that.
Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Oh …” She read my mind. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?” I played it extra cool.
“That Kael posted your products’ ingredients next to the ingredients in his products on his shelves along with a list of things that have been shown or suspected to cause heart disease, hypertension, obesity, and cancer. It was a little jarring to see how much fat, salt, and preservatives, that I can’t even pronounce, are in your products.” She chuckled. “I’m sure that’s what gives them such a sinful taste but seeing it like that made me think twice about consuming them. Especially since my doctor just put me on cholesterol medication.”
Business is business …
Biting my lips together, I nodded slowly.
Well played.
Chapter Nineteen
“But-uh … so anyway … yeah.” My husband used space holders in conversations. He talked in fragments, ending his incomplete thoughts with “you know …” I didn’t know—nobody knew. Everyone else nodded politely as if they did know because Craig was a nice guy. Nice guys didn’t need to speak in full sentences.
* * *
Monday morning, I knocked on the door to What Did You Expect? thirty minutes before it was supposed to open for the day. Kael grinned as he approached the entrance.
“Nice surprise,” he said after unlocking the door. “But…” he glanced over his shoulder “…one of my employees just arrived. We could probably do it quickly in the bathroom if you’re not too loud.”
“You’ve put me out of business. Happy?”
A deep line formed between his eyebrows. “What?” He retreated a step and opened the door wider to let me inside. “Can you get things set up in the kitchen for tonight’s class?” he asked his employee. “I need a minute with Mrs. Smith.”
The woman nodded and closed the door to the kitchen behind her. She could see us but hearing us would have been a little more difficult, especially since