Page 20 of Beneath Southern Stars

Or at least my problem of still not having Laney’s number. And being exhausted. I slept for shit. After gathering Pepper and her things in my arms, I said a quiet goodbye and crossed the yard to our house. Part of me wanted to sneak over to give Laney a proper goodnight kiss but not only could I not leave my daughter alone, her house was dark as the night telling me she went to bed.

Did she lay awake reliving our night?

Memories of the moment her eyes fluttered closed and her hands slipped around my neck will stay etched in my mind for eternity. The quiet hum that escaped as I pulled her flush to my body, a sound I’ll never forget. But beyond that it’s the ghost of her touch on my cheek. Her hand, gentle as she seemed to relish in the feel of my beard on her smooth palm. Kissing my neighbor was never in my holiday plan but then again, I didn’t know women like Laney Whitfield existed.

Pepper begins to stir; her eyes open wide as she wiggles in the seat and loosens her grip of her stuffed bunny. Something blue out the front window catches my eye, and I take a few steps to look outside just as Laney’s car turns out of her driveway and down the road. So much for her losing sleep. I’m standing in my sleep pants watching my child come out of her sleepy fog and Laney is out and about.

Sighing in resignation, I turn to the coffee pot and top off my cup. I suppose there are other priorities to get to today. Namely making our way across town to Mimi’s Gasoline Grove. I’m still not sold on the idea of fried catfish and sweet tea from a gas station but if Mattie says this is what needs to be done, I’ll give it the old college try. Later. Right now, it’s breakfast and maybe some cleaning.

“Daddy?”

Keeping my expression even, a small smile on my face as I step toward the island.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m staaarrving!”

Laughing at the theatrics, I nod and move to the fridge, pulling eggs and sausage links from the shelf. “I’ll get started on breakfast. Why don’t you run to your room and make sure all the dirty clothes are in your basket. Can you do that for me?”

Nodding her head, little curls flying every which way, Pepper slides off the stool and runs to her room. I close my eyes and savor the sounds of her singing from the other room.Katie, she’s coming back to me. Thank you for guiding her.

A few hours of breakfast, showers, and housekeeping pass quickly and I decide before we take on the gossip ladies of Magnolia Grove at the gas station, a walk down the street is a good idea. Is it possible I’m using this as an excuse to walk past Laney’s house? Maybe. Plus, I’m still not convinced going into town with the sole purpose of outing myself is the best plan of action.

We make it down the driveway and begin our trek down Magnolia Lane when a man calls out from across the street. Instinctively I pull the bill of my hat down and step so that Pepper is behind me, her attention on a dandelion in Laney’s yard.

“Hey there. I’ve meant to stop by and introduce myself, but life’s been a little crazy,” he says in greeting. My face is impassive as I accept his handshake. “Name’s Boone West. I live just over there.”

I follow his motion across the street. “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re on the rodeo circuit.”

Boone hangs his head and chuckles. “Retired. From riding at least. So, I hear you’re heading over to Mimi’s today.”

My eyes must give away my surprise because he barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not part of the gossip train. I talked to Mattie this morning and he mentioned y’all had talked.”

Relief rushes through my veins. “I gotta say, you had me worried about how quickly word spreads in this town.”

“Oh, that’s still very true.”

We both laugh and engage in a little small talk about his recent injury and a few mutual acquaintances we share. The connection between country music and the professional rodeo circuit isn’t necessarily direct but it’s there, nonetheless. A tug at my shorts pulls my attention and I look down. Pepper looks less than impressed to be standing only a few feet from our house when we should be exploring the neighborhood.

“Well, hello there, little one.”

Bending down, I scoop Pepper into my arms and introduce her to Boone. “Boone, this is my daughter, Pepper. Pep can you say hello to Mr. West?”

Internally I’m crossing all my fingers and toes that her chatter from earlier will continue. Instead, she only smiles. Not to be deterred, Boone holds out his fist for a bump. To my surprise, Pepper complies and then giggles, her glasses slipping a little in the progress.

“I won’t keep you any longer, let you get on with your walk. Just wanted to introduce myself. Plus, my fiancée, Dolly, owns and runs Magnolia Mart. She’ll let Laney know if she hears any chatter about your secret getting out.”

I thank Boone and when he makes it back onto his property, I look down at Pepper. “What do you say we go to town instead of a walk?”

Her eyes widen and she whispers, “Can we see Laney?”

“We’ll see. I think we need to see some ladies about a little fried catfish first.”

Horror crosses her face, and I can’t hold back the chuckle. “No, honey, not a cat and fish, it’s... you know what, never mind. We’ll just get some lemonade. How’s that?”

I can tell by her face that she’s not buying my pivot but how the hell am I going to explain what catfish is to a five-year-old without her thinking I’m feeding her someone’s pet?

Now, I’ve never actually been in a café set inside a gas station before, but I can’t imagine any other is as nice as this one. Mimi’s Gasoline Grove isn’t like a convenience store where you grab a bottled power drink and pack of gum while your tank fills. From the outside, it’s just a regular old-school station with a clerk rushing out to pump the gas and clean the windshields for the customers. Inside it’s clean and smells of fresh cut flowers with a hint of oil from the fryers. Two older women are sitting across from one another in a booth, each with a pair of knitting needles of some sort in their hands. A younger woman with red hair piled on her head smiles as we walk in, the bell above the door chiming at our entrance.

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