Page 75 of The County Fair Queen

That plea was denied.

"You keep your dick away from my assistant. Do you hear me? Jesus actual Christ on the actual crucifix."

Preston swallowed. Then he slid his hand on top of Jordan's knee and squeezed. "What happens in the privacy of my bedroom is none of your concern, Phillip."

"Oh, my God," I said.

"Dammit, Pressy," Jordan said. "Ignore him, Phillip. Nothing happened."

"Pressy? You have nicknames for each other?" I was wailing. I knew it, and I didn't care. "What's next, personalized ringtones?"

"Does anyone still use actual ringtones?" Jordan mused. "I thought most people just kept their phones on silent."

Preston chuckled, and then he unlocked his phone and tapped his screen a few times. Seconds later, Jordan's phone came to life, blaring out the chorus toThe Power of Loveby Celine Dion. As Celine belted out that she was Jordan's lady, my assistant's entire body went rigid.

"Who's calling you?" I demanded.

"That's a really pretty tree," he said, pointing at an empty field across the street. "What do you call those things?"

"Nonexistent," I deadpanned. "Answer the question." I stared at my father, who was winking at me like a moron.

"For fuck's sake, Phillip. Can you calm down?" Jordan said. "So, we spent a little time together. It's not a big deal. We just indulged in a bit of light spooning. It wasn't anything sordid."

"Oh, it's a very big deal." I grabbed Jordan by the chin and lightly tugged until his eyes met mine. "Now, I want you to listen, and listen well. If you think I'm calling you dad, you're fucking high."

Jordan sighed, resting his hand on my knee and giving it a pat. "We'll see, son. We'll see."

***

We pulled up to Tallulah Regional Airport shortly after dawn. The second we walked in, it felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my heart. When we'd arrived two weeks earlier, the place had been a ghost town. For my grand farewell, that wasn't the case. Scattered throughout the lobby, at least forty people were waiting to tell us goodbye. The second they spotted us, it was pandemonium. A thunderous round of applause echoed out, getting louder and louder the longer it went on. It must have lasted a solid five minutes until Minnie Sinclair snuck past the velvet rope separating the crowd from the crew. She hobbled over, carrying two Styrofoam containers.

"Thought you boys might get hungry on the way out," she said, opening the lid to show me her signature waffles. In a small Ziplock bag, there were two tufts of cotton candy, one for each of us. "Wanted to send you off with something special."

Next in line was Aunt Lurlene. Suddenly, the sticky note she'd hung on her door earlier made sense.'Tummy trouble,'my foot.Her ensemble for the morning was just as ridiculous as ever, and I loved her for it. A powder-blue mullet with pink bangs was perched on her head, but she must've put it on in the car, because it was a lopsided mess. I reached for her, straightening her wig as her hands rubbed back and forth against my forearms. She was wearing a shimmering scarlet jumpsuit with a gargantuan belt with a silver skull and crossbones on the buckle.

"Hey," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You didn't have to come out here today. I know you're probably exhausted after the last two weeks."

"Hogwash," she said. "My Turnip's heading home. I had to send you off in style." She kissed my cheek, her arms stretching around me, pulling me in for a hug. "I'm so proud of you, sugar. I don't know if I could love you more if I tried."

"I love you, too," I said, giving her another squeeze. "And we'll see each other before you know it. I promise."

My father was next to her, standing behind Jordan. He had one arm draped over him, across his chest. He was holding on to him like he didn't want to let him go. "You mean it? About coming back more often?"

"Is that okay?"

"I'd like that, Phillip," my father said. "I'd really like that."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely." He shifted his gaze to a particularly uninteresting wet floor sign and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Said, 'I love you,' I guess." He winced, as if the admission had felt like daggers wounding his throat as they worked their way out.

"I guess I kind of love you, too." I coughed. "Dad." I pretended not to notice him wipe a little wetness from his eyes. Scanning the crowd, I saw a sea of familiar faces, none of which belongedto the only two people I wanted there beside me. How could they be? I'd left them both back at Fletcher Family Vineyard; Beau cuddled up on the sofa, Rivers sleeping in sheets that still smelled like me. Onlooker after onlooker came forward to wish me well, but I found myself peering over my shoulder, hoping for a miracle I knew wouldn't come.

After saying our goodbyes, Brenda/Carole motioned for us to hang back while they got the cameras ready on the tarmac. I knew they'd want to get footage of us boarding the plane, and knowing Brenda/Carole, she'd more than likely expect tears. It wouldn't take much to get them flowing. All I'd have to do was think of—

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