Page 17 of Whiskey Lullaby
“Absolutely, besides, you don’t want that dung getting all over the seats in yourtruck.”
“Alright, I appreciate itsir.”
He clapped his hand over my shoulder before showing me up the back steps and straight into the kitchen. I always noticed the inside of people’s houses. I guess, maybe everybody does. But I always did because it usually made me realize just how poor I’d grown up. The inside of the kitchen was clean, with the aroma of freshly baked bread lingering in the air. On the counter was a tray of sandwiches. The Lord’s Prayer was hung by the breakfast table that had a vase of artificial daisies on it. Sounds like the American Dream, doesn’t it? A Southern-Baptist preacher and his lovelyfamily...
“Bathroom’s up the stairs,” John said, pointing to a set of stairs peeking out from the hall. “Last door on your right. I’ll leave you some clothes outside thedoor.”
“Thanks.” I started toward thestairs.
“And help yourself to a sandwich after you get washed up.” John pointed at the tray before grabbing a sandwich and cramming most of it inside hismouth.
“Thanks,” I said again before climbing the steps. Nice people always made me feel uncomfortable. To this day I don’t know why, I guess I just always assumed their kindness was out of pity. And I hated for anyone to pityme.
An uneasy feeling wound through me when I shut the bathroom door and started to strip out of my jeans. There was something unsettling about being naked in a preacher’shouse.
10
Hannah
The next morning, I woke up and left Meg basically dying in my bed while I ran the errands. When I came back from the store late that morning, the door to Daddy’s shop was opened, so I assumed he and Bo where out there with the “unfortunatesoul.”
I put the milk and orange juice in the fridge, stuffed the bread inside the wooden bread box, then went straight to my room with some Tylenol and water forMeg.
The second the door creaked open, she groaned and rolled over. “This Pepto Bismol pink is making me morehungover.”
“No, that’s thevodka.”
“Ugh. Don’t even talk aboutvodka.”
“Here,” I said, handing her the Tylenol andwater.
She propped herself up on her elbows. Last night’s makeup was smeared over her face like poorly applied war paint, and it looked like a few birds had made nests in her hair. “Wow,” I said, “you looklovely.”
She swallowed the medicine, glanced across at my dresser mirror, then glared at me. “Here I am dying in your bed and you look all chipper and”—she waved her hand around before rubbing at her eye—“not dead. And it feels like I have sandpaper in myeye.”
“It’s the fifteen coats of mascara and fibers you slept in last night.” I stepped into the hall. “I’ll grab you one of my makeupwipes.”
Just when I reached for the bathroom door, it pulled open. Steam billowed out, and I was suddenly staring at the defined chest of a man with nothing but a damp, white towel wrapped around his waist. “Well…damn,” hesaid.
Every ounce of blood drained to my feet at the slight smirk that played at Noah’s lips. Our eyes locked and my heart hammered against my ribs because what in the hell washedoing in my house,naked?
“I…uh…” I swallowed. He subtly narrowed his eyes, probably stifling a laugh at how red my cheeks must have been. “Uh…” I watched the water trickling from his messy, damp hair. “Why are you—why are you in my house?” Iblurted.
“Ah... I’m guessing John’s your dad?” hesaid.
“Yes, and”—I was still watching the droplets of water run down his face—“why are you in my house?” Irepeated.
“I’m uh…” He tugged at the towel, I guess to keep it from slipping.God, please don’t let it slip. “Helping your dadout.”
He’s the troubled soul? Of course he is.Deep breath, Hannah. Deep, deep breath. I nodded. There was a moment of silence. A moment where we just looked at each other. I couldn’t help but think how bottomless his eyes seemed, like they were full of promises he’d never come through on—but the thought that he just may was almost enough. I’m pretty sure that’s why so many girls fell in love withhim.
“And the towel?” Ipointed.
“Well,” he finally said, “I thought it’d be rude to walk out of the bathroomnaked.”
He bent down to pick up a pile of clothes set by the door, then held them up with a grin. His lips were all I could focus on, wondering if he threaded his fingers through your hair when he kissed you. “Yeah, but why areyou—”
“Come on, country girl, don’t you know the potential hazards of working afarm?”
