Page 83 of Best Laid Plans

I pulled out the ring box that Tyler had given to me, and set it on a table in front of me.

"Well, at least he left that," Mama sighed. She sat next to Alma and put her arm around her. "Baby, it's alright."

"Mama, I'm twenty-six years old, and everyone around me is gettin' married. I don't want to be thirty by the time I marry. When will I have…." She stared at the jewelry box, and then at me. "You found it?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Honey, I found it." Mama wiped Alma's tears. "It was in your room in the safe. I was so happy to see it. I thought we'd lost it, and I gave it to Tyler. I thought it would make a…." She looked from Alma's stunned face to mine.

"Alma, if I go into your safe, will I find the rest of Grandma Ethel's jewelry?" I asked softly.

My mother finally clued in and gasped. She put a hand to her mouth, and looked at Alma like she'd just grown horns. "This ring…this was one of those…oh my God, Alma, why do you have this?"

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I could see my mother genuinely didn't understand how Alma had jewelry that belonged to Grandma Ethel, jewelry that was supposed to have been stolen by Nova, and fenced into oblivion.

Alma swallowed. "I…I…Bailey…. God!"

"Alma, for God's sake, explain yourself," Mama cried out.

"She, Bailey, and Pete framed Nova seven years ago, Mama, just like Bailey tried to do again yesterday," I explained.

Mama stared at Alma in confusion. "Baby, is that…did you?"

Alma pursed her lips. "It wasn't my idea."

"Christ, Alma, you didn't just say somethin' that stupid." Mama stood up, wanting to get some distance from her darling daughter, it appeared. "What the hell did you and Bailey concoct?"

Alma dropped her face into her hands.

"Stop that and talk." Mama folded her arms and glared at Alma.

My sister faced us, shaking her head. "Bailey wanted to teach Nova a lesson for stealing you. We all know how you feel about stealin' or lyin' and all that stuff."

All that morality stuff? Yeah, and for all that higher livin' business, I, apparently am shit at actually reading people. Every fuckin' con artist in the world could have a field day with me.

"Who recruited Pete into your scheme?" I asked.

"Bailey."

"Was she fuckin' him then?" I asked.

"Anson, language."

"Mama, we're so past that," I growled. "So fuckin' past that. So, Alma was Bailey fuckin' him then."

She nodded.

Mama gasped.

"She still fuckin' him?"

Alma shrugged. "I don't know. She doesn't tell me everything since y'all got engaged."

Mama looked like her puppy just died. "Why on earth would Bailey sleep with Pete? He's…fat and…good Lord, that man has the loosest zipper in the county."

I reminded myself to go get tested ASAP. Even though Bailey and I always had sex with a condom because I wanted to be doubly protected, her on birth control and me wrapped up—I had no clue if something had gotten into my bloodstream via Pete.

Christ! How was this shitshow my life?

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