Page 30 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

“Maybelline has vegetables,” he said with a look in his eyes that suggested he was trying to rile me up. “Okra, zucchini, potatoes.”

“All of which are fried, and it’s the same at Meemaw’s house. Sure, she serves plenty of vegetables at dinner, but they’re either slathered in butter or fried or both.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “No complaints here.”

“And your arteries probably look like a sixty-year-old man’s,” I scoffed. “All the more reason to move into my own place, so I can eat healthier without offending anyone.”

Concern filled his eyes and his hand closed around mine. “Hey, this isn’t like you. What’s really goin’ on? Is it the conversation you had with your grandmother?”

I shook my head. “That and more. I knew Meemaw wasn’t happy that I was redoing the overseer’s house, but I think she’s taking it personally. She thinks I want to get away from her.”

He made a face. “Well…you kind ofdowant to get away from her. Don’t get me wrong, your meemaw is a strong woman, but she’s also a difficult woman. Plus, you’re nearly thirty years old. Most women your age aren’t livin’ at home.” His eyes turned lustful. “If I had my way, you’d be sleepin’ inmybed every night.”

“I know,” I said, refusing to take his bait. If and when we got married, I had no idea where we’d live. Luke liked being in town so he was closer to the police station, and even though I hadn’t moved in yet, I was already in love with my little house.

But I suspected this unsettled feeling involved more than Meemaw’s hurt feelings. She’d stirred up a lot of emotions about my childhood that I’d tried my best to leave buried.

“This is all nonsense,” I said. “She’ll be fine. I’m literally a short walk down the road. It’s not like I’m moving to California or even just into town.” Then I changed the subject. “I hear the mayor has big plans for the Thanksgiving Parade.”

“He’s even got a news crew from Birmingham comin’,” Luke said, picking up a sugar package and twirling it between his fingers.

“Does that mean you’ll be too busy to escort me to the parade?”

He grinned. “Probably, but I’d love to take you to the dance later.”

Whoever heard of a Thanksgiving dance? Although it wasn’t so strange in Sweet Briar.

I eyed him with a coy look. “I’ll see if I can fit you in.”

A couple of minutes later, Maybelline came out carrying two plates. She set them on the table with a look of challenge, then grabbed a squeeze bottle of barbecue sauce from her apron pocket and placed it between us. My plate seemed to have even more fries than Luke’s, with a few pieces of parsley tossed on top.

“No substitutions,” she grunted, then headed back to the kitchen.

Luke broke into a huge grin. “I guess you got your vegetables.”

I shook my head with a frown. “This kind of isn’t funny. It’s not like I asked her to make something she doesn’t serve. Saladison her list of sides.”

“It’s Maybelline,” he said as he grabbed the squeeze bottle and squirted some sauce on his pork.

Maybe so, but it still seemed wrong. Though I supposed it didn’t seem like something throwing a fit over. Especially since I was hoping to get some answers out of Maybelline later.

We ate in silence, and while I was partially stewing over Maybelline’s dismissal of my request, I was also mulling over my conversation with my grandmother.

I could have lived with my grandparents and been free of my mother’s chaos. I could have escaped the hell of working onGotcha!. I could have been here when Dixie was going through her wild patch as a teen. I could have been here when my grandfather and her parents were killed. Or maybe it would have never happened at all.

“Hey,” Luke finally said. “Are you reallythatupset over the fries?” It came out with an air of incredulity but also a tiny sprinkling of judgment.

I stared at him in disbelief and was about to lay into him, but then I heard my cousin’s voice.

“I should have known you’d be here.”

Dixie stood next to the table, her blue eyes bright with happiness. Her long blond hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She was wearing a blue button-down shirt that was tucked into her jeans.

“Hey, Dix,” I said, trying to stuff down my irritation as I got up and gave her a hug. “I’m so happy to see you! Where’s Bill?”

“He’s back at the office. He wants to look over the list of potential clients for the next season and scope out the locations to get a list for the B-roll.” She glanced between us and frowned. “Looks like I’m interrupting something.”

“No,” I said in a tight voice. “You’re not interrupting anything at all.”

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