Faith, Love, and Fried Chicken: Seasons Boxed Set Bundle 1-4 Read online

  He bit the other end and put it back into the box. His attention was caught by Jaycee’s rod as her line tugged, the tip dipping deeply towards the ground.

  “Looks like fish for dinner,” he said smiling.

  “You scale, I’ll cook.” Jaycee said, standing now and giving the line slack in increments as she reeled the fish in.

  Just what his mother used to say to his Dad. A new tradition now. Their tradition.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “So?” Kitty asked without glancing up, engrossed with her phone.

  “So, what?” Jaycee reiterated, blowing a chunk of long bangs out from in front of her eyes.

  Lunch hadn’t arrived yet and Kitty had been interacting more with someone by text than with Jaycee. She’d been trying to start a conversation for ten minutes now.

  Jaycee grabbed her own phone from her bag, sliding her finger across the unlock feature.

  Kitty lifted her head a moment later.

  “Are you seriously texting me right now?”

  “It seems the only way to get your attention,” Jaycee said, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed.

  “Touché.” Kitty put her head back down, but looked up with her eyes. “Darn technology. Makes you feel like you’ve lost your right arm if you’re not on it constantly.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Now that Jaycee answered phones and worked on a computer most days, she found herself less inclined to reach for a gadget in her off hours.

  Kitty, having put her phone away in her handbag, was all Jaycee’s. “We’re going to Aunt Myrtle’s again.”

  “Nice. You love her stuffing.” Jaycee said sarcastically, remembering how Kitty always complained about the strong spices in it. “We’ll have it at home. I’m helpin’ cook.”

  The look was classic Kitty. Her dark eyes opened incrementally until they looked huge in her small face. “You?”

  “Yes, Daddy’s not feeling so well. We’re all pullin’ more weight around the house and farm.”

  “I hope he’s better soon.”

  “Thanks. He’s been to the doctor. Had tests. We’ll see.” She sighed and looked around the small restaurant. Marlene didn’t work until the afternoon shift and Karl’s Diner was quiet. “Glad you could come home.”

  “Me too. Nothing like a mundane Twain, Georgia fall day to catch up on my rest.” She yawned dramatically, letting one arm laze high above her right ear.

  Jaycee eyed the circles under her friend’s eyes. “Still livin’ the party lifestyle?”

  “It’s like a whole other layer of marketing in the fashion magazine world. It’s not an option; it’s required. Be seen. Keep current. Know your stuff.” She glanced down at her slate gray cashmere sweater and gave Jaycee a lopsided grin.

  “That’s alotta pressure. I didn’t see that side, not stayin’ for long.”

  “Yeah, that was a shame. Poor Dash,” Kitty said, referencing to the house fire that he had gotten caught in. Taking her glass of Diet Coke with her, she sat back in the booth. “We could try again.”

  Jaycee laughed. “My speed’s somewhere between tall buildings and shanties.” Almost as an afterthought she added, “Besides. Dash is here.”

  “He is,” Kitty said, and then added almost reluctantly, “Just don’t settle.”

  Jaycee felt her face grow warm. “Stayin’ here. He’s just one piece. I don’t know. Twain is just part of who I am.”

  Kitty shook her head. “I never thought it of you. And John? He’s been texting you for months, right?”

  “He’s your roommate. We’re just friends. He likes to hear about country life.” Jaycee had guilt over this one. Dash had wondered at the texts and seen John’s name on more than one occasion. Just a friend. Nothing deceitful there.

  “And Dash?”

  “He knows what he wants. He’s not lookin’ to peddle himself to anyone, including me. He’s just…Dash.”

  “And you’re just Jaycee. You’re not married, you know.”

  “I’ve been prayin’ on it, what I should be doin’.”

  “For real?” Kitty asked skeptically.

  “All that stuff in Sunday school, youth, church….it’s makin’ more sense now. I-I think God will direct my steps. I’m just waitin’ on Him….not Dash.”

  The food arrived on the tail of her sentence. Jaycee eyed her blue cheese bacon burger, thinking of running half to Dash on her way back home. “I just wish He’d hurry up. Can’t rush God, though.”

  “Something else going on?”

  Jaycee grabbed the ketchup and made a puddle on her plate. “My boss. I’ve been callin’ him Mister Creeper. He makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Got Raid?”

  “What?” Jaycee asked, looking up with interest.

  “We girls keep a can on our desks or in a drawer for such a time as needed. Lotsa Mister Creepers in the world.”

  “But – what do I do?”

  “Jaycee Cozetta Hamilton, you know what to do if he gets outta line.”

  “But he’s Daddy’s friend.”

  “Blood’s thicker than water and your Daddy’d be the first one to deck him.”

  Jaycee considered for a moment and nodded. “Truer words.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Monday through Friday grind didn’t loom so large this week as Jaycee entered the small hallway on the ground floor of the office complex. Thanksgiving was only four short days away. A large sign on the door signified Carlisle Realty.

  She tried the door only to find it locked and leaned against the wall next to it. Shifting her handbag off her shoulder, she reached for her phone. Before she had it pulled out, Eleanor appeared from the parking lot entrance.

  “Sorry, I’m late.”

  “Only minutes. No worries.”

  Jaycee entered the three room office behind Eleanor as she flipped on the light and adjusted the thermostat. Her desk was as she had left it. She adjusted her chair and leaned over to push the power button on the computer tower. She heard Eleanor do the same at her desk.

  “How was yer weekend?”

  “Nice,” Jaycee answered. “Caught a few fish with Dash. That was the highlight.”

  “The fish or Dash?”

  “Well…Dash,” Jaycee said grinning at her across the expanse of their two desks. “And your weekend?”

  “Great. Moved the last of the boxes to the new place.”

  “So you’re really leavin’ me?” Jaycee frowned now. Eleanor had trained her for the position and Jaycee had only been there a few short months.

  “’Fraid so.” Eleanor looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sure he’ll hire another girl soon.”

  Jaycee nodded her head. Her mind refused to accept she’d be alone in the office with The Creeper. She suddenly remembered the can of Raid in her purse and slid it out, placing it against the desk leg.

  “You know, you don’t have to stay. I – maybe I should have warned you.”

  This was the nearest either of them had gotten to talking about their boss’ advances. Jaycee looked up hopefully at Eleanor. “You’ve been here how long?”

  “A year. We don’t last long.” Eleanor heaved a loud sigh.

  Jaycee looked around to see if Mr. Carlisle was in the room then whispered, “Why doesn’t someone report him? This can’t keep happenin’.” She raised her voice then, getting angrier as she spoke. “Land sakes, I don’t want to train a girl for this.”

  Eleanor pursed her pouty red lips. Tossing her ebony hair over her shoulder, she shrugged. “No time to make trouble. Everyone’s strugglin’. We gotta work.”

  “Yeah, but not like this!”

  “So quit. You live at home. You don’t need the money like some girls.”

  “He’s my daddy’s friend.”

  Eleanor nodded slowly. “I get it. Find somethin’ else quick.”

  “No,” Jaycee said determinedly. “I think I’ll be rectifyin’ the situation.”

  “How are you going do that?�
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  “Not sure yet, but harvest time’s comin’.”

  Eleanor grinned suddenly and slapped her desk. “Wish I could stick around for that!”

  Dash kicked the counter before him in frustration. The pain vibrated from his steel toe boot and up his thigh. Good thing that was my good leg.

  He was sick of paperwork, calling suppliers, finding parts, and getting stuck in the front office. He wanted to be working on cars, not be a secretary. He and Chuck used to both make the calls and do the paperwork. Now the bulk of the car fixing fell to Chuck, and Dash was stuck in customer service. Not that he minded the interaction with the townsfolk; he just wanted to get his hands dirty again.

  He looked down at the wooden cane leaning against the counter. Jaycee’s dad had given it to him, something to work towards when he left the hospital. From wheelchair to crutches to this. Slow and steady progress. It just wasn’t fast enough. He needed to increase volume, advertise, but with only one mechanic things had stalled out. His savings was slowly dwindling, between paying the utilities on the shop, Chuck’s salary, and rent on the apartment. He certainly couldn’t foresee forward movement with Jaycee when he was in this state.

  Mercy, God. How much more pain, loss? Will I lose Jaycee too?

  Dash had seen the texts. Jaycee’s furtive glances at them. He had even asked who John was. Someone she had met briefly in New York. Was she going to go back to him? Was there more to just friends than even Jaycee was aware of, deep down?

  Mr. Carlisle had been out with clients all morning, but was back in his office now with the door closed. Jaycee typed the last of the new listings in and uploaded them to MLS. Fiddling with her pen and seeing Eleanor on a call, she pulled out a piece of copy paper to make the start of a tentative grocery list.

  Daddy not feeling well had left them all wondering how Thanksgiving would go. Jaycee was gone weekdays and quite a bit of his chores had fallen onto her mother and to Marcus after school. Jaycee was determined to take up some of the slack in the evenings when she returned home and to help with Thanksgiving shopping and food prep.

  Turkey. Cranberries. Flour. Brown sugar. Potatoes. Cornmeal. Green beans.

  Jaycee went down the list, adding ingredients to dishes, leaving plenty of space at the bottom for her mother to write in additional items. She realized as she ticked down dishes in her head, she had forgotten to tell Dash she would be scarce this week. She had told him briefly Daddy had gone for tests last week, but hadn’t gone into detail, not wanting to ruin the special Thanksgiving fishing trip that past Saturday.

  Eleanor gave a loud sigh as she hung up the phone. “Gotta leave early today. Ok’d it with the boss.” She tidied her desk top and moved toward the break room with her coffee cup in hand. “I’ll make a fresh pot before I leave,” she called back to Jaycee.

  Jaycee nodded, though she realized Eleanor couldn’t see her. One thing she had learned first was to keep the coffee pot full of fresh coffee all day long. Probably why Mr. Carlisle was so hyper and couldn’t sit still.

  Eleanor left a short time later with a backward wave.

  Jaycee glanced at her boss’ closed door. It wasn’t often she was alone with him. He had cornered her briefly in the break room when she was eating her lunch several times. Since then, she had eaten in her car or at a nearby delicatessen, Sandwich on the Sly.

  She answered several calls and finished her list, slipping the paper into her purse. Her foot kicked the can of Raid several times as the day wore on and each time, a feeling of trepidation clutched at her heart. What am I so worried about anyway? Jaycee could outrun him and she had a mean right hook on the outside chance she couldn’t. How dare he make me feel so out of control and vulnerable!

  It was 4:30 when Jaycee saw his office door swing open. She was on the phone scheduling an appointment for him to view a house with a buyer for the next day.

  “This coffee fresh?” She heard him question from the back room.

  “Yes.” God, forgive me for the lie. I cannot go in that little room with him. What would she do when the week was over? Eleanor would be gone. “You want me to place an ad in the Dollar Saver?”

  Mr. Carlisle rounded the corner. His brown eyes fell on Jaycee and then cast their way towards Eleanor’s empty desk. He stepped closer to Jaycee’s desk, the computer monitor between them.

  Jaycee comforted herself by banging the toe of her high heel shoe against the tin can at her feet, making a slight echoing sound in the room.

  “What’s that,” he questioned Jaycee on the sound.

  “Bug spray.” She said, raising her chin and meeting his eyes. “For bugs.”

  Mr. Carlisle squinted at her then, lifting the coffee cup to his lips. “So an ad? Already?”

  “Eleanor’s last day is Wednesday.”

  “We could see how things go…you and me holding down the fort.”

  The phone rang then, interrupting the retort on Jaycee’s tongue. She lifted the phone. “Carlisle Realty. How can I help you?”

  “Hello, darlin’.”

  Dash’s smooth deep voice melted some of Jaycee’s taut nerves. She put a finger up to Mr. Carlisle, who had settled his trim 50-something figure atop the front of her desk.

  “Well, hi there, Dash. What can I do for you?” Her voice sounded strange, even to her own ears. She took a few shallow breaths and averted her eyes from her boss to the computer screen.

  Dash’s tone lost some of its playfulness. “Um, things okay, Jaycee?”

  “Yes. Just finishin’ up for the day. I won’t be by, forgot to tell you. Gotta finish the grocery list with Momma tonight for Thursday.”

  “Sure enough. Listen, call me when you get a chance later. I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

  “I will. I’ll talk to you then.”

  “Okay. Bye. And remember….you need me, you call.”

  “Bye.” Jaycee hung up the phone. Mr. Carlisle hadn’t moved a muscle since the phone had rung, which was unlike him in all respects.

  “How’s that Daddy of yours doing anyways?”

  “Just fine, thank you.” She’d be darned if she’d discuss her Daddy with him, even if they were old friends.

  “I don’t happen to have plans on Thanksgiving. Think I could get a good meal? If I remember right, your Momma sure knows how to cook.”

  Jaycee squirmed in her seat, avoiding eye contact with the man. She swore she saw him try to peek down her blouse as she busied her hands with paperwork.

  She contemplated a moment longer than was proper. “I’ll check with my folks.” She squeezed out.

  “Right nice. Much needed sustenance to these old bachelor bones.” He flexed his arm as if on display, then gathered his now dry coffee cup. “You can go now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  She nodded and made quick order of turning off her computer and stacking several files in her inbox. When he had turned and was half-way to his office, she grabbed the bug spray, slipped it into her purse, and escaped out the door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Follow-ups tomorrow,” her mother said, as she and Jaycee sat at the kitchen table with her mother’s recipe book open between them.

  “All those tests. Glad maybe we’ll have some answers.” Jaycee smiled encouragingly then and laughed, trying to reassure her momma. “I hope they can fix him.”

  Her mother’s quiet laugh joined Jaycee’s. “Maybe not the orneriness, but the shakes and tremors would be nice.” They sobered not long after, her mother’s eyes clouding. “Such a time to be sick, with the holidays comin’.”

  “We’ll manage. Clyde’s been handlin’ the cattle. We got the chickens and horses all set. Marcus is a pro. I manage.” Jaycee grimaced.

  “You never were one for dirt, manure, or farm smells, my dear.”

  “I’ll do the bulk of the cookin’, Momma. I know you’re tired after bein’ outside.”

  “We’ll have to hire another hand soon, though your daddy is stubbornly against it. My feet and back are just sheer wore out
by the end of the day. I can supervise, chop and stir sittin’ down, though. ”

  “And pester, badger, and tell me what I’m doin’ wrong.”

  “Now, Jaycee.”

  “I’m just kiddin’. I’m happy to help. I love to cook, just like you.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Her mother flipped the pages in the book, tapping her finger on the recipe before them. “We must make this too.”

  “Um, yeah…like 12 of them.” She giggled. It was a family favorite.

  “You’re makin’ them. You wanna make 12?”

  Jaycee looked at the recipe for her mother’s pecan pie. “No, but I’ll make three. We have enough pecans stored up?”

  “Yes, there are a few bags left.”

  “How about a pumpkin and an apple?”

  Her mother nodded, “That should be good.”

  Jaycee nodded. “That reminds me. Mr. Carlisle has nowhere to go. Okay for me to invite him?” Creepy freeloader.

  Her momma didn’t look up at that. A moment passed then she responded, her eyes still on the list before her. “Yes, he can come. We’ll have plenty. The Lord has been good to us. We must bless others with what we have been blessed with.”

  The doorbell rang then. Marcus yelled Jaycee’s name from the front hall. As she walked from the kitchen, worry pulled her through the living room to check on her father. He was asleep in his favorite chair before the television. She pulled a quilt from the couch and placed it across his legs, tiptoeing from the room.

  She waggled her eyebrows at Marcus as he stood talking to Dash and put her finger to her lips. “Daddy’s sleepin’. Gol’durn, you could wake the dead.”

  Dash had been stewing all day; so much so, he reckoned he could make his own gravy. Marlene had given him a sympathetic shake of her head as she plopped his fried steak and gravy before him. He chewed it absently and greeted Tucker Meltzer and his new wife, Cora Leigh, then downed his second glass of pop. Without much forethought to the consequences, he went barreling over the Jaycee’s house not long after the supper crowd had cleared from the diner.