Red Lily
Page 39
“I like Carrie,” Hayley decided. “I’d like to buy her a drink.”
“THERE’S NOTHING BETTER than a happy ending.” Unless, Hayley decided, it was sitting in the shade on the glider, sipping a cold drink while Lily played on the grass. And Harper swung beside her.
“It’s always a happy ending when Cousin Clarissa gets the heave-ho. She used to terrorize me when I was a kid, whenever she came around. Before Mama booted her out.”
“Know what Jane said she called your mama?”
“No.” The relaxed expression on his face settled into cold stone. “What?”
“A harlot.”
“A . . .” The stone broke into a huge, rolling laugh that had Lily clapping her hands. “A harlot. God, Mama would love that.”
“She did. You really know her, don’t you? It was just such a good morning. Pushed all the bad stuff away awhile. Seeing somebody who’d discovered themselves the way Jane has, or is, I guess. The one time I met her before? She was practically invisible. Now’s she’s, well, she’s pretty hot.”
“Yeah? How hot?”
She laughed, elbowed him. “Never you mind. One cousin at a time.”
“Exactly what kind of cousins are we anyway? I’ve never figured it out.”
“I think your daddy and mine were third cousins, which makes us fifth. At least, I think. Maybe we’re fourth cousins once removed. It could be third cousins, twice removed. I can never get it just right in my head. And there’s half blood in there, too with my great-grandmother’s second marriage—”
It was probably just as well he stopped her mouth with his. “Kissing cousins covers it,” he decided.
“Works for me.” Because it did, she leaned in to take his mouth again.
Lily interrupted with a few squawks and babbles, tugging on Harper’s legs until he hauled her up. Curling her arm around his neck, she pushed Hayley back.
“Well, I guess that shows me.” Amused, Hayley leaned in again, and Lily pushed her back and wrapped tighter to Harper.
“Girls are always fighting over me,” he said. “It’s a curse.”
“I bet. That one you were with last New Year’s Eve looked like she could scratch and bite.”
He smiled at Lily. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Oh, yes, you do. The blonde with about a yard of hair and perfect Victoria’s Secret br**sts.”
“Yeah, the br**sts are coming back to me.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say!”
“You started it. Amber,” he said with a chuckle as he lifted the baby high over his head to make her laugh.
“Of course. She looked like an Amber.”
“She’s a corporate lawyer.”
“She is not.”
“God’s truth.” He held up a hand like a man taking an oath. “Beautiful doesn’t have to mean bimbo, of which you are living proof.”
“Good save. Were you serious—and forget that spilled out. I hate when women, or men for that matter, poke into past relationships.”
“You showed me yours. Not serious. She didn’t want serious, neither did I. She’s focused on her career right now.”
“You ever been serious?”
“I’ve approached the parameter of serious a few times. Never crossed over into the zone.” He sat Lily between them, snugging her in so she could swing.
Better leave it at that, Hayley told herself. Leave it comfortable with the three of them lazing on the glider with the bees humming in the hazy heat and the flowers bursting through it with bold summer colors.
“This is the best part of summer,” she told him. “Evening shade. It seems like you could sit where you are for hours, without a single important thing to do.”
“Don’t want to get away from here awhile?”
“Not tonight. I wouldn’t want to leave Lily two nights running.”
“I was thinking we could take her to get some ice cream after dinner.”
Surprised, she looked over. Then wondered why she’d been surprised he’d suggest it. “She’d love that. So would I.”
“Then it’s a date. In fact, why don’t we go out, get a burger and finish it off with ice cream?”
“Even better.”
STEAMY JULY MELTED into sweltering August, days of white skies and breathless nights. It seemed almost normal, almost peaceful as day blended into day.
“I’m starting to wonder if just finding out her name was enough.” Hayley potted up pink and yellow pentas. “Maybe the fact we worked to find it, and how she’s Roz’s great-grandmother’s, satisfied her, calmed her down.”
“You think she’s done?” Stella asked her.
“I still hear her singing in Lily’s room, almost every night. But she hasn’t done anything mean. Every once in a while I feel something, or sense something, but it fades away. I haven’t done anything weird lately, have I?”
“You were listening to Pink the other day, and talking about getting a tattoo.”
“That’s not weird. I think we should both get tattoos—a flower theme. I’d get a red lily, and you could get a blue dahlia. I bet Logan would think it was wicked sexy.”
“Then let him get the tattoo.”
“Just a little one. A girly one.”
“I think girly tattoo is an oxymoron.”
“Absolutely not,” Hayley protested. “Flowers, butterflies, unicorns, that kind of thing. I bet I could talk Roz into getting one.”
The idea had Stella tossing back her red curls and laughing. “Tell you what, you talk Roz into getting a tattoo and . . . Nope, I still won’t join the party.”
“Historically, tattoos are ancient art forms, back to the Egyptians. And they were often used to control the supernatural. Since we’ve got some heavy supernatural going on, it would be like a talisman, and a personal statement.”
“My personal statement will be refusing to let some guy named Tank carve a symbol—girly or otherwise—into my flesh. Just call me fussy. Those look good, Hayley. Very sweet.”
“Customer wanted sweet, and the yellow and pink are her daughter’s wedding colors. These’ll make nice centerpieces for the wedding shower. I think I’d shoot for something a little bolder, a little punchier myself. Maybe jewel tones.”
“THERE’S NOTHING BETTER than a happy ending.” Unless, Hayley decided, it was sitting in the shade on the glider, sipping a cold drink while Lily played on the grass. And Harper swung beside her.
“It’s always a happy ending when Cousin Clarissa gets the heave-ho. She used to terrorize me when I was a kid, whenever she came around. Before Mama booted her out.”
“Know what Jane said she called your mama?”
“No.” The relaxed expression on his face settled into cold stone. “What?”
“A harlot.”
“A . . .” The stone broke into a huge, rolling laugh that had Lily clapping her hands. “A harlot. God, Mama would love that.”
“She did. You really know her, don’t you? It was just such a good morning. Pushed all the bad stuff away awhile. Seeing somebody who’d discovered themselves the way Jane has, or is, I guess. The one time I met her before? She was practically invisible. Now’s she’s, well, she’s pretty hot.”
“Yeah? How hot?”
She laughed, elbowed him. “Never you mind. One cousin at a time.”
“Exactly what kind of cousins are we anyway? I’ve never figured it out.”
“I think your daddy and mine were third cousins, which makes us fifth. At least, I think. Maybe we’re fourth cousins once removed. It could be third cousins, twice removed. I can never get it just right in my head. And there’s half blood in there, too with my great-grandmother’s second marriage—”
It was probably just as well he stopped her mouth with his. “Kissing cousins covers it,” he decided.
“Works for me.” Because it did, she leaned in to take his mouth again.
Lily interrupted with a few squawks and babbles, tugging on Harper’s legs until he hauled her up. Curling her arm around his neck, she pushed Hayley back.
“Well, I guess that shows me.” Amused, Hayley leaned in again, and Lily pushed her back and wrapped tighter to Harper.
“Girls are always fighting over me,” he said. “It’s a curse.”
“I bet. That one you were with last New Year’s Eve looked like she could scratch and bite.”
He smiled at Lily. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Oh, yes, you do. The blonde with about a yard of hair and perfect Victoria’s Secret br**sts.”
“Yeah, the br**sts are coming back to me.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say!”
“You started it. Amber,” he said with a chuckle as he lifted the baby high over his head to make her laugh.
“Of course. She looked like an Amber.”
“She’s a corporate lawyer.”
“She is not.”
“God’s truth.” He held up a hand like a man taking an oath. “Beautiful doesn’t have to mean bimbo, of which you are living proof.”
“Good save. Were you serious—and forget that spilled out. I hate when women, or men for that matter, poke into past relationships.”
“You showed me yours. Not serious. She didn’t want serious, neither did I. She’s focused on her career right now.”
“You ever been serious?”
“I’ve approached the parameter of serious a few times. Never crossed over into the zone.” He sat Lily between them, snugging her in so she could swing.
Better leave it at that, Hayley told herself. Leave it comfortable with the three of them lazing on the glider with the bees humming in the hazy heat and the flowers bursting through it with bold summer colors.
“This is the best part of summer,” she told him. “Evening shade. It seems like you could sit where you are for hours, without a single important thing to do.”
“Don’t want to get away from here awhile?”
“Not tonight. I wouldn’t want to leave Lily two nights running.”
“I was thinking we could take her to get some ice cream after dinner.”
Surprised, she looked over. Then wondered why she’d been surprised he’d suggest it. “She’d love that. So would I.”
“Then it’s a date. In fact, why don’t we go out, get a burger and finish it off with ice cream?”
“Even better.”
STEAMY JULY MELTED into sweltering August, days of white skies and breathless nights. It seemed almost normal, almost peaceful as day blended into day.
“I’m starting to wonder if just finding out her name was enough.” Hayley potted up pink and yellow pentas. “Maybe the fact we worked to find it, and how she’s Roz’s great-grandmother’s, satisfied her, calmed her down.”
“You think she’s done?” Stella asked her.
“I still hear her singing in Lily’s room, almost every night. But she hasn’t done anything mean. Every once in a while I feel something, or sense something, but it fades away. I haven’t done anything weird lately, have I?”
“You were listening to Pink the other day, and talking about getting a tattoo.”
“That’s not weird. I think we should both get tattoos—a flower theme. I’d get a red lily, and you could get a blue dahlia. I bet Logan would think it was wicked sexy.”
“Then let him get the tattoo.”
“Just a little one. A girly one.”
“I think girly tattoo is an oxymoron.”
“Absolutely not,” Hayley protested. “Flowers, butterflies, unicorns, that kind of thing. I bet I could talk Roz into getting one.”
The idea had Stella tossing back her red curls and laughing. “Tell you what, you talk Roz into getting a tattoo and . . . Nope, I still won’t join the party.”
“Historically, tattoos are ancient art forms, back to the Egyptians. And they were often used to control the supernatural. Since we’ve got some heavy supernatural going on, it would be like a talisman, and a personal statement.”
“My personal statement will be refusing to let some guy named Tank carve a symbol—girly or otherwise—into my flesh. Just call me fussy. Those look good, Hayley. Very sweet.”
“Customer wanted sweet, and the yellow and pink are her daughter’s wedding colors. These’ll make nice centerpieces for the wedding shower. I think I’d shoot for something a little bolder, a little punchier myself. Maybe jewel tones.”
