Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,16
figure out the best way to go about an apology.
“This is the hottest August I believe we’ve ever had,” Kel said, still in the grip of Lucy-incited emotion. “You remember when we were on patrol in Iraq, and you picked up that spent mortar because you were worried it was a live one and you didn’t want it going off on our unit? You said that mortar was so hot you nearly shat your pants. You said that if there was a hell, it was probably hot as that,” Kel said, his voice dreamy as he remembered. “That’s how I felt today. Like I’d seen something so goddamn hot I’d probably shat my pants.”
Jake shook his head, feeling sorry for his buddy. Numbnuts.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Sugar’s breasts—”
Jake’s jaw clenched.
“I only scanned the other women’s tits, you know, because I was caught on Lucy’s, although I did peek at Ma ’cause I’d never seen old lady boob before. And they’re not bad, let me tell you, for old lady boob—”
Jake closed his eyes.
“But Sugar, just for the record, she could be Miss August, dude.”
Jake swallowed hard, opened his eyes, shut the cabinet door. There was no point in calling the Cassavechias. No one else would be on their roof. Unless Kel blabbed to their friends. Jake had a hard time seeing Big Bobby or Evert climbing his roof just for a glimpse of something in which they weren’t necessarily interested.
He refused the mental image of Sugar’s white and pink and maybe oiled breasts gleaming in the August sun, and grabbed a cold one from the fridge. His chances of ever seeing Sugar in the buff were nil and none.
Everything would be fine.
“Twenty more minutes is all you get, Maggie.” Sugar took a long drink of iced tea and flopped over on her stomach. The tubing lawn chaises she’d bought at the Five-and-Dime in town had been worth every penny. “And please put on more sunblock.”
“You shouldn’t be sunning your breasts anyway,” Lucy chimed in. “Just because you’re in remission—”
“What the hell am I saving them for?” Maggie demanded, turning over on her stomach beside Sugar. She resituated her floppy straw hat with a practiced hand. “The cancer was inside me, not out, and I need the vitamin D. Furthermore, I’m a beach babe, born and bred. If this is my new beach, I’m going to enjoy it. Thanks for the chaise, Sugar. It’s a great idea.” Her tanned hand idly stroked Paris, who cared more about Maggie’s fingers running through her shampoo-softened fur than the heat.
“I’ll get a wading pool next time. I saw some plastic ones for ten bucks.” Sugar was more concerned with Maggie’s smoking than her sunning. She didn’t smoke as much when she was busy outdoors with sunbathing or gardening, so Sugar tried to keep her busy.
They all looked up when they heard the doorbell ring.
“That is one loud-ass doorbell.” Lucy rose. “I’ll go. I won’t miss Pecan Creek Beach.” She took her bikini top and towel with her.
“She likes it here, Sugar. It’ll grow on her. Don’t worry.”
Her mother’s words didn’t entirely comfort her. Sugar told herself they were all suffering moving pains. Still, she was worried about Lucy, she was worried about Maggie, and sometimes, she worried about herself.
She’d had a lot of worries in Florida too, but surely here in Texas, a fresh start meant everything.
Lucy stared at the tall, broomstick-handle of a woman on the front porch holding a pie in her hands. “I remember you. You were one of the frigid old bats who was rude to my mother last night.”
Her visitor smiled. “I apologize for that, dear. We were totally caught off guard. We don’t do surprise well in Pecan Creek.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Lucy said, not feeling much pity for the lame excuse. “What do you want?”
“This is a welcome-to-Pecan Creek gift.” She extended the pie, but Lucy didn’t take it from her. “My name is Charlotte Dawson.”
“I’m not feeling it, Ms. Dawson, if you don’t mind.” Lucy started to close the door.
“Actually, I came to talk to you specifically, young lady, if I could have just a moment of your time.”
Lucy held the door open about a foot. She saw the elderly lady take in her askew bikini top, the polka-dotted bottoms, which fit like a glove and her bellybutton ring. Charlotte smiled at her. Lucy remembered that this woman was the only one of the group who’d bothered to stick up for Maggie, even if it had been a token effort. “Talk fast.”