her cheek. “You’re sweet, but I’ll be alright. No need to make a scene in the pews. Last time you did that, you lost your favorite Sunday hat.”

She hmphs a bit and then snags the dirty dishes out of Daddy’s and my hands before either of us can get to the sink first. “I got this. You two go on and get out of my kitchen now. I won’t have you messin’ things up.”

Daddy chuckles. “No, ma’am. We wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mama points a finger at him. “You just watch yourself, Teddy Bell. I see you over there fiddlin’ with that toaster when you should be out there cuttin’ that grass instead.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he says, just like he’s been sayin’ for the past several weeks.

“Mm-hmm,” Mama replies, not at all believin’ him.

“I can do it, Daddy,” I offer. “It’s not like I’m goin’ into work today, anyway.”

“No, honey girl. I don’t want you out there doin’ that. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

I smile and shake my head at him. We both know he won’t.

“Mm-hmm,” I say, mimickin’ my mama.

“Medley Bell, where do you think you’re goin’?” Mama says, stoppin’ me before I walk out.

“Uh, I was gonna go shower.”

She shakes her head. “You didn’t finish your story.”

I fidget on my feet and pluck at the oversized T-shirt I have on. “Sure I did.”

“No. Last thing you said was you delivered the package late. What happened before your tribulation hit?”

I look over where Daddy is waitin’ expectantly for me to answer while Mama tackles the dishes. “Uh, well, I decided to have a drink at the bar, since I was already there and all.”

Mama casts me a look over her shoulder, her cheeks already pink from the steam risin’ up in the sink as she scrubs out the grits pot. “You stayed for a drink out in the middle of nowhere without a friend or a designated driver?”

I guess I’m not totally gonna be off the hook with lectures this mornin’. “I know, it was stupid,” I admit. “But I just needed a minute before I got back in the truck and had to face Patricia.”

“I expect so,” Daddy cuts in. “After that Ms. Jonay ran you off with her attack dog. I have a mind to stop by her house and slap a muzzle on that public menace.”

“Me too,” I say with a nod.

“Medley, don’t get off track,” Mama says. “What happened after you got yourself a drink?”

“Well…”

I chew on my bottom lip. I’m always honest with my parents, no matter what kinda stupid shit I get into. But I don’t know how they’re gonna take this next part.

“Wells are for water,” Mama chirps. “Tell us.”

I blow out a breath. “I thought there was somethin’ wrong with my drink.”

My parents immediately react. Daddy stiffens and Mama whirls around, soap suds on her yellow rubber gloves. “What in the Lord’s name are you talkin’ about?”

I throw up my hands in frustration—not at them, but at my own damn memory. “I’m not really sure,” I admit. “I just thought somethin’ was...off.”

I just can’t bring myself to tell them that I was seein’ things. It’s too weird, even for me.

“Anyway, I kinda freaked out on the bartender and the owners. They were tellin’ me everythin’ was just fine, but I panicked and the black soaked into my vision.”

Mama and Daddy share a look before Daddy hikes up his pants, his face stony. I can see behind his wild beard that his mouth is turned down. “I want the address of that bar.”

“Daddy, I don’t think—”

“I ain’t askin’, honey girl.”

I love that he still wants to protect me like I’m his baby, but I can’t in good conscience send my daddy to that bar. Even if I was just seein’ things and they didn’t tamper with my drink. I don’t want him to get hurt. But he’s lookin’ at me with a glare, lettin’ me know he’s not gonna leave me off the hook.

“Fine, I’ll...find it. I’m not sure I can remember.”

“I’ll call up Patricia then,” he counters, and I grit my teeth. How the hell am I gonna keep him away from that place?

Speakin’ of Patricia…

“I should probably go get my stuff,” I say, glad at least to steer the conversation away from last night. “I want to get it over with, and I need my last paycheck to give to you guys.”

“You keep your money,” Daddy says, but we go over this twice a month, every month.

“You know the deal. I already burden you two enough with livin’ at home still. I’m payin’ to help with expenses, and that’s that.” I know he doesn’t make much on his retirement, and while they’ve never once complained about me stayin’ here, I know it has to put a strain on them, so I give the majority of my money to them, while savin’ a hundred here or there to put away in the hopes that one day, I can actually move out like I’ve always planned. Pathetic, I know. I should have my shit together by now.

“Stubborn,” he says with a grunt as he starts chewin’ on a toothpick. “You want me to drive you down to work to get your things?” he offers.

“No, thanks. I’ll handle it.”

I turn and head to the back of the house and into my room, shuttin’ the door behind me before I grab a pair of jean shorts and a mint green fitted tank top to match my hair. I need to shower last night’s ordeal off me before I have to face Patricia.

After that…then I’ll deal with what happened at the bar. But for now, one thing at a time.

5

Makin’ my way down the highway toward Swift Shipping, my hair is down and blowin’ back as my A/C blasts in my face. I have country music blarin’ through the speakers in an attempt to drown out my tumultuous thoughts.

My blue Jeep Cherokee speeds along, passin’ by downtown Sweetgreen

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