Page 43 of Cain
I frown and look at them like they’re aliens.
“We’re…look, we made a mistake.” This comes from Alison, and her tone is almost belligerent. “All of us. The whole town. We believed that awful Paula. I mean, Melody always lies, but we expected better from Paula.”
I nod. I stay silent. I have no idea how to respond to what Alison just said.
“Cain came to a church meeting yesterday, and he told useverything. Georgia”—Geena pauses and then picks up a napkin to wipe her tears—“told us what happened. We’re so sorry that you were kicked out of your place. Bob has been told to behave himself. And…” Geena trails off, sniffling.
“We’re sorry you had to spend the night…in the cold.” Alison pats her friend’s back while she whimpers apologies.
I study them both, trying to see beyond their words and behavior.
“We’re so sorry, Faith.” Alison grabs my hand in both of hers. “We thought you were sleeping with Cain to…well, we thought terrible things. Please don’t leave Silverton. Give us a chance. I promise you’ll see we’re a great community.”
After the women left, Onyx did a shot of tequila as if there was an emergency. “What the fuck was that?”
I gave a slow, uncertain shrug. “No clue.”
I get more than a clue as the days go by—pretty much everyone who’s anyone I met at Ripley’s shows up at Nectar.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Ricky asks when he sees a box of cinnamon rolls on the bar with the Hanley’s Bakery logo on it.
“Everyone is comin’ in to talk to Faith,” Onyx explains. “They get a drink, and then they say they’re sorry, and then they tell her to stay in Silverton.” Her voice drops to a scandalized murmur, “Yesterday, Father Sculdun ordered a gimlet.”
“The G-String Gimlet?” Ricky looks as baffled as we feel.
“He didn’t say G-string,” I interject.
“And Mrs. Hanley?” He opens the box and picks up a cinnamon roll.
“She was sorry for what Faith went through and is very ashamed of how Silverton treated her.” Onyx folds her arms, looking smug as hell.
Ricky nods as if all this makes sense as he chews on a bite of the roll.
Onyx continues. “Yesterday, Tom from the hardware store came by. Gave her a free toolset so she has them for when she needs them.”
“Was it a nice set?” Ricky wants to know.
I sigh. “I gave it back.”
Onyx pulls out the box with tools from under the bar. “Nuh-huh. I took it. If you don’t want it, I can use it.”
“What’s Tom’s story?” Ricky gets comfortable on a stool.
I lean against the bar, head down.
“He said his niece works in social services. And when he found out that Faith was in the system, he got angry with himself for not helping her.” Onyx grins.
“Why does he think he needs to help me?” I throw my hands up in exasperation.
“It’s a small-town disease,” Ricky tells me.
Onyx nods in agreement. “They’re all fucked up about you spending two nights in jail, one sleeping outside the library; and they’rereallysorry that you ended up cleaning our toilets.”
“I don’t get it. I met most of these people at Ripley’s, but they didn’t do anything bad to me.”
“They didn’t help you,” Onyx points out.
Ricky looks keenly at the remaining rolls in the bakery box, as if debating which one to eat next.
