And she set the rock down neatly in the pile as if that was where it belonged and climbed into his car, pulling the door shut behind her.
They sat there quietly for a moment.
It was suddenly just them and the night. And the crickets starting up.
And if he’d been asked for his definition of heaven right then and there, damned if he wouldn’t say Glory, and the night, and the crickets starting up.
“Comfy seat,” she murmured finally, sounding surprised. She fumbled around next to it, then adjusted it and leaned way way back, making herself at home.
He adjusted his in the same way.
Now they were both leaning back and staring at The Baby Owls billboard as if it was a drive-in movie. There was a splotch on the middle guys’ glasses that hadn’t been there before. Shedidhave good aim.
“Want to tell me the reason you felt mean enough to throw rocks at a billboard? I know you’ve had a rough week. Enough to make anyone want to throw things.”
She didn’t answer for quite some time.
“You must think throwing rocks at a billboard is ridiculous,” she said finally.
“Well, yeah. But I might change my mind when I hear your reason.”
She quirked her mouth. And sighed. “Mostly... it’s something Eden Harwood said.” She said it with a hint of bleakness he’d never before heard in her voice, which made his heart feel wrung like a washrag.
This was about the last thing he’d expected her to say. Primarily because Eden Harwood and Glory Greenleaf, while both perfectly lovely women, were as different as two women could get, and he didn’t think they spoke to each other at all.
“Something Eden Harwood said to you? Or about you?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to start from the beginning?”
She tucked a wayward hair behind her ear, and took a deep breath. “Well, I asked Glenn if I could open for The Baby Owls.” She glanced at him swiftly.
“Damn. That’s agreatidea.” He realized he had his fingers crossed for her, worried about the second half of her sentence.
“But their manager told Glenn something like ‘who the fuck is Glory Greenbean?’ So in other words, nope.”
He was instantly incensed on her behalf. “Guy sounds like an asshole.” That could explain her choice of targets tonight.
She almost smiled at that. “Glenn thinks so. So I was a little bummed about that. And when I got off work at the Misty Cat for the day and was walking down Main Street, I stopped to pet the little black-and-white cat outside the flower shop—”
“Peace and Love?”
“Yeah, Peace and Love. And you know little Annelise Harwood, right? She’s just a doll, that little girl, isn’t she?” She turned questioning eyes up at Eli. All at once his thoughts careened off track, and he could imagine a little girl with Glory’s eyes and cheekbones and his chin dimple running up to him when he came home at night.
“Mmmhmm,” he said faintly, shocked.
“Well, she came out of the flower shop, and we started talking. She sang me a song she wrote about a boy—it was a great song, Eli, heartfelt and super funny—and I told her that if she came into the Misty Cat I’d sit with her and we could put chords to it. I taught myself and I could teach her. Don’t you think?” She sounded almost defiant.
“Sure. Of course you could,” he said, a little startled.
“And then Eden came outside to see who Annelise was talking to. And you know, I’ve known Eden Harwood for practically my whole life. But you should have seen how she... how shelookedat me. I guess she thought I would sprayGreenleafover Annelise like I’m some kind of skunk.”
She was trying to be flippant. But her voice cracked on the last word.
Eli closed his eyes. That crack in her voice might as well have been the sound of his own heart breaking.
“And she said... she said... She doesn’t want her daughter hanging around with the ‘likes of me.’ The ‘likesof me.’ That’s funny, isn’t it? Like there’s a whole army of me invading the town like the zombies onThe Walking Dead. The likes of me. The likes of me.” She gave a short, dark laugh. “I might be a little drunk.”