Page 22 of Maid in America

“I know. Right?” Barrett chuckled. “She blabbed to the pastor’s wife at our church that I was a maid. Not,” he injected quickly, “one that does it in mybriefs, mind you. She thinks I’m just a regular old housekeeper-type maid.”

Will laughed and covered his face, trying to compose himself. “Of course she did. That woman’s got a mouth the size ’a Texas, I swear.”

“Well, she volunteered me to come to Maggie’s and clean. Might be a good chance to practice a little. At least this way, if I fuck up, it’s not your company at stake.”

Ava’s face brightened, and she rose from her seat. She made her way to Barrett and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Barrett. I know you’re trying.”

He hugged her back, and Will’s rosy cheeks rose at the sight of it.

“We are just at a critical point here,” she continued. “Feels like one wrong move, and we could lose everything. Everything’s riding on this, Barrett.”

“I know.” He squeezed her tighter. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

“Where’s a camera when I need one? This is a real Hallmark moment,” Will jested.

Barrett’s middle finger rose behind Ava’s back.

Ava playfully shoved Barrett backward by the shoulder. “You’re like a little brother to me. Sometimes little brothers piss you off.”

Barrett grabbed a fistful of Ava’s blonde hair and yanked.

“Ow!”

“Sometimes little brothers do shit like that, too.” Barrett laughed, then smiled. “Wow… I’m impressed. That was yourrealhair. I always assumed those were extensions.”

Ava smacked him in the chest a little harder than she intended. “Get the fuck out. Go. Go learn how to do stuff that twelve-year-old little boys alreadyknowhow to do.” She smiled.

“Yeah,” Barrett started out the door again, “Love you, too, sis.”

8

Another night.

Another bar.

Another free drink bought by a horny rig worker.

It’s amazing what an arm graze and a sweet laugh’ll getcha these days, Chastity thought as she chugged half of the ice-cold beer the bartender had just shoved her way. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and clicked glasses with the mediocre-looking roughneck who bought it for her.

He wouldn’t be half bad…

If he had all his teeth.

Chastity rolled her neck and sighed loudly. Despite her agitation at the day’s events and the barrage of non-stop chatter, she had missedThe Alibi, her old run-down haunt. The place felt like it hadn’t aged a day in the years she’d been gone. It felt a little likehome, more so than herrealone.

She recalled how much she used to love sneaking in when she was underage. The staff all knew her by name and couldn’t have cared less about checking her license.

The town was small. They knew who she was and took pity on her for being the pastor’s daughter.

Hearing brides discuss the nuances of Chantilly lace versus French brocade all day made her want to rip the rainbow-colored curls from her scalp. It was always the same gaggle of women, it seemed. Different faces and different names… yet always near-identical personalities when they opened their mouths.

The nervous-but-happy bride.

The subtly controlling mother.

The narcissistic Bridesmaids.

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