smile. “Hey, yourself.”
Chapter 15
Tempest
“So, your mama tells me you’ve been getting acquainted with that scary guy who’s working for Hank,” Anna says quietly, with her hand daintily placed on her basketball-sized tummy as we watch the older ladies of the church mingle. Every once in a while, one of them looks our way, but as of yet, none of them has said a word to me.
Maybe they think my bad juju will rub off on them?
Good. Because I don’t want to talk to them anyway. All they ever want to discuss is my lack of attendance at church and how sad it is that that Asher and I are no longer married.
Fuck that.
Like she can hear my thoughts, Anna cuts her eyes at me. Maybe I said that out loud?
Lord, forgive me for my profanity… actually, if you could cover me for the next two hours, I would appreciate it. I’m barely hanging on here and could really use the help.
Amen.
“He’s not scary,” I tell her, keeping my voice low, because I don’t need any busybodies in my business… or Cage’s. “He’s a friend… a really good one, and his name is Cage.” I knew she’d bring this up, but I’d rather not discuss it in the middle of the church fellowship hall during her baby shower.
“The last thing you need is more gossip,” she says on an exhale, keeping her eyes moving around the room.
“Can we please drop this?” I ask with sugary sweetness and a fake-ass smile, because Sister Anguiano is looking straight at us.
“You know what I mean, Tempest.” She tsks, and I don’t have to see her to know she just rolled her eyes. It’s all in the inflection of her voice. “They’re all gonna think you're some kind of hussy who sleeps around.”
“So, if a woman… me,” I say, pausing for a second while the pastor’s wife walks by. “If a woman is seen being friends with a man, she’s automatically screwing him? That’s so backwards and twisted I can’t even think of a good retort. And don’t worry, Mindy already has a corner on hussy.”
“Tempest Cassidy!”
“Oh, Anna, loosen up!” I hiss. “She is and you know it. She’s been sleeping around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry since we were in high school. Asher isn’t special. He’s just the one who finally knocked her up,” I seethe, still not okay with that piece of information, but I’m coming to terms with it. In the last day or so, I’ve decided they deserve each other and I deserve better. “I hope his dick shrivels up and her boobs sag to her knees.”
“Tempest!” Anna’s shriek draws the attention of every eye in the room, including Mindy’s.
Yeah, she’s here.
Practically every female Green Valley resident between the ages of twenty and seventy is here.
Anna turns her back to the women and whispers, “You can’t say stuff like that in church!” She looks like she’s afraid lightning is fixing to strike.
“Well, I’m also not going to lie—in church or anywhere else. Now, can we focus on something else? Like, the reason we’re here,” I tell her, patting her leg in hopes it will calm her down. The last thing I need is her going into labor. “You’re going to be a mama. Isn’t that exciting?”
I know better than to poke the bear, or a hormonal pregnant lady—verbal or otherwise.
Uh oh. I see tears forming in her eyes, and these aren’t the usual Anna crocodile tears. “What?” I ask nervously, shifting in my seat to face her—blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What did I say? If it’s about cussing in church… I already prayed about that.”
She shakes her head and swallows thickly, turning away. “It’s not fair,” she whispers.
“What?”
“You want a baby,” she says quietly, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “And that… woman,” she says, anger lacing her words, the first I’ve heard from her in a long time. During her pregnancy, she’s tried to keep her emotions as even as possible. The baby feels everything I feel, she says. “She stole your husband… and got pregnant. It’s a sin… all of it.” Anna’s tone is indignant. She’s sorely offended on my behalf. “It’s not right.”
Resting my hand on her arm, I give it a gentle squeeze. I love Anna, always have. But I think I just fell for her a little harder, right here in the middle of the church fellowship hall… surrounded by balloons and crepe paper. “It’s okay,” I soothe. “It just wasn’t meant