I made a strangled sound and looked back at Tex. I was beginning to get angry.
“Do I not have a say in this?” I asked Uncle Tex.
“Nope,” He responded.
My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me but I think I do.”
“You can have your say when people aren’t shootin’ at you,” Tex returned.
Jason, Lee and Eddie walked in from the TV room to catch what was likely to be a more spectacular show as I squared off with Uncle Tex.
“That’s just it, they were shooting at me but Daisy was with me. They could have shot her. They did shoot her car!” I snapped. “Seems to me everyone would be a heck of a lot safer if I was far away from here.”
“You ain’t thinkin’ straight,” Tex said agreeably. “That’s understandable.”
I stomped my foot. I was no longer beginning to get angry, I was out and out angry.
“I am thinking straight. If something happens to someone because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Hank said from beside me, cutting into the conversation.
I turned to him. “Yeah? You sure about that?” I asked.
His eyes got hard. “Yeah,” he said slowly, staring at me.
“Yeah, I’m f**kin’ sure.”
Holy cow.
The way he said it, the way he looked, made me believe him.
Almost.
“Hank, that mouth,” Kitty Sue said in a mother’s tone.
Even with the tension flowing between Hank and me, I had to admire Kitty Sue tel ing off her grown-up, super-macho, badass cop son for dropping the f-bomb.
Then she announced, “Spaghetti’s ready, let’s eat.” The conversation was over and so was the show.
Even though I didn’t want it to be, I real y had no choice.
* * * * *
We ate. We did the dishes. We played Scattergories. Uncle Tex took Nancy home. We had sundaes smothered in hot fudge sauce and topped with whipped cream and a cherry. We did the new dishes. Kitty Sue went home, Hank and Lee both walking her to her car.
This I found so sweet I felt my breath constrict in my chest and caught Indy’s eye. Her eyes were bright and warm and something flowed from her to me, like an invitation to a sisterhood that only we two could share. I wanted to accept, more than anything I’d ever wanted in my whole life; even Corporate Diva-dom, closets stuffed with clothes and a front row seat at the Chanel Winter Runway Show in Paris.
Hank and Lee came back and the moment was lost, but the promise remained and I felt so moved by it, I barely said another word the rest of the night.
We played more Scattergories. We listened to Indy and Al y tel ing stories of Haunted Houses past and I began to get more and more freaked out at this Haunted House business. It didn’t sound fun, it sounded frightening, it sounded crazy, it sounded total y out of control.
Hank noticed me getting tense and pointedly put away the Scattergories game.
Everyone took the hint, hugs were exchanged then they al left.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Hank commented after he’d closed and locked the door.
“I was shot at today,” I answered, thinking I had a good point even though I was lying.