Page 12 of Just (Fake) Married
“Stop!” I cried, and covered Bruce’s ears with my hands. No one was cooking up Bruce. Not ever.
The front door slammed open again. Jenny jumped up and barked in the wrong direction. The goose flapped her wing and honked.
My younger sister, Bliss, stood in the doorway, without a coat, in a thin black t-shirt with a black thermal underneath it. “Did you hear?” she asked.
“Close the door, would you?” I said.
She closed the door. “Did you hear?”
“I haven’t heard anything,” I said. Which was strange. Usually Goods and Provisions was the epicenter of gossip. But some days, my sister’s bar, The Last Stand, beat me out. Today must be one of those days.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. McCormick asked.
“You’re never going to believe it,” Bliss said, her long red hair back in a ponytail. She got Mom’s auburn hair that made her look like a movie star from the 40’s. I got grandma’s hair which was carrot red, and I looked like Pippi Longstocking. I often came out on the wrong side of the genetic lottery in our family.
“Did you walk over here without a coat?” I asked, distracted by how cold she must be.
“Yeah, because this gossip is so hot it kept me warm,” she said.
I laughed. “What’s the news?”
“Leroy McGraw died.”
“When?” I asked, the smile dropping from my face.
“This morning,” she said. “I just heard it from Mrs. Walker.” Mrs. Walker was the long-time housekeeper on the Swinging D.
“How?” I asked.
“Apparently, he had cancer,” Bliss said.
The Darryls and Mrs. McCormick gasped. Stunned, I leaned back against the counter. Jenny nosed my leg and I scratched her ear. Small comforts.
“You know,” Darryl J. said, leaning into the gossip. “I thought he was looking pretty worn out lately.”
“He lost a bunch of weight,” Mrs. McCormick agreed.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Bliss came up to me, holding onto my arms. I could feel her cold hands through my sweater.
“Honestly,” I said, in a bit of a daze. “You should have a coat.”
“Will you focus?” she asked, shaking me. “You know what this means?”
It meant so much. It meant my mom could finally stop putting a hex on that man. It meant the city council would get some fresh blood. It meant there might be a thawing in this age-old stupid feud. It meant…oh shit.
“That’s right,” she said. Her big, green eyes wide with delight and worry. “Ethan McGraw is coming back to town.”
TWO
ETHAN
“I only needa day or two, Dr. Xio.” I said, as I turned onto the long driveway up to the Swinging D, passing under the elaborate steel and bone ranch sign.
While everyone assumed the Swinging D’s name had something to do with our ancestor’s dick size, it was actually given its name because this was where Duncan McGraw first hanged a man for challenging his claim to the land.
That man’s name had been Doogan. Hence, the Swinging D.
The McGraws loved a good hanging. Unless it was us that were getting strung up. Like I was the other day.
