Page 18 of Whispered Southern Secrets

“No. I don’t want to take someone’s coffee.”

“He was hoping you’d pop up,” James chimes in.

J.D. gives him a mock scowl. “I always get an extra coffee. Never know who could use a cup.”

“You just buy extra coffees?”

“Do you want it?”

“Precious caffeine? Yes.”

“That’s usually the response.” James chuckles. “There’s always someone who could use a cup.”

“And extra pep in the step.”

“If not he’ll just drink it,” James quips.

J.D. and James both begin painting. I notice there’s another brush. I don’t want to push my company on him. My schedule is wide open. James picks up on my hesitation. “Go ahead. I’m not greedy. I’ll share the workload.”

J.D.’s head whips to look at him. “Hey. Don’t try to get out of spending time with me.”

“Figured she might want to spend time with you too.” At James’s off the cuff comment mine and J.D.’s face both turn red.This takes me back to grade school to when the guy I liked found out I was crushing on him.

“Actually, I feel bad for James having to put up with you, so Cash and I will offer our services. I can help with painting and Cash offers his charming personality.”

Before long, James is playing with Cash while J.D. and I are standing side by side laughing and painting. That’s how Mrs. Lamshire finds us. Her eyes narrow and her lips purse together.

“I see why you weren’t interested in Peggy, Brother Johnny David. You’d rather have a project. Maybe it’s that insecurity you were preaching about. She already has her life together and is on the correct path. Have fun with your little…projects, Pastor.”

I have a few choice words in mind for this sweet “Christian” woman. Instead I say resist the urge because wow. I bet Jesus is smiling down and thinking, yup, that’s one of mine. And like the good honorable woman she is she’ll bear no false witness. I give it five minutes before the whispering begins. All of Magnolia Grove will know the pastor and I were caught together behind the fence.

Mimi findsme by the register propped on elbows, my head in my hands, staring at the counter.

“Lemme’ guess. Somebody said somethin’ and now you’re overthinkin’ it.”

“Nooo,” I lie. When I peek up through my fingers at her I groan. “Fine. Yes. I left where I was after my divorce because of this kind of gossip. I can’t stand it. Okay? I like it when people like me. And when I feel like they’re judging me and looking down on me, it hurts. I care too much what people think. I put on a big face but it’s all a scam.” Pushing back from the counter,I walk around to accept her wide welcoming arms in the best hug in the world.

Mimi’s gentle frail hands rub my back and her voice is so sweet and she says, “You’re under the delusion that it matters what folks say, my dear.” I didn’t trust myself not to burst in tears so I remained buried in her embrace in silence. I give her nod so she knows I heard her.

I hear Pepaw’s boots and then soon smell his familiar aftershave. “What’s going on?”

“Oh folks running their mouths,” Mimi tells him. Then she says into my hair, “Don’t worry. With age comes less and less tolerance for nonsense. You’ll start to realize what truly matters—who truly matters—and you’ll develop a filter for the hogwash. Until then, you have me and Pepaw to lean on.”

I sigh. “But I wish I was strong enough to not need anyone to lean on.”

“But don’t you see that shows how strong you are?” The warmth of my Pepaw’s big hands seep through my shirt. “You’re strong enough to come to us for help. You have the courage to keep going, even when you don’t feel strong. And, baby doll, you’re still standing. Ya might be leanin’ a little, but you’re still standing. You’re not down for the count. You’re just catchin’ ya breath.”

He's right. I feel silly now for feeling sorry for myself. Not because I got a little depressed. But for allowing somebody who I barely speak with to get under my skin. The people who really matter to me were standing right here. When I think about what matters most in this world, it’s these two. They’ve always brought so much meaning to my life. Not only do I need them but they’ve always made me for needed and cared for. Their opinions are the ones who matter the most, and nobody else’s.

“I need to tell you two something.” I real quick scan the area to make sure we’re alone and no customers or ease droppers.

“You fancy the preacher’s boy. Brother Johnny David,” Pepaw declares.

“Well, he’s not just the preacher’s boy. He’s a man. And basically the new preacher,” Mimi corrects.

“The point is she likes him. They make googly eyes at one another all the time.”

Are we really that obvious? Am I that transparent?

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