“They’re not all self-righteous. Mrs. Shipley will probably just assume that Conner’s no good. And the others, well, it’s just what they’ve been taught. I’m going to help them out regardless.”
“That’s nuts.” Rebecca shook her head. “Especially now that Conner lives here.”
“Maybe, but I can’t leave. Besides, I do like my job—if I can just get through the remodelling. Where else can I work noon to eight Monday to Friday, have weekends to myself and be my own boss?”
“You’re not really your own boss. You’re afraid you’re going to be fired.”
“In practice, I have a lot of autonomy,” Delaney said.
Rebecca twirled her hair around and around her fingers, something she did when she wanted a cigarette but couldn’t or wouldn’t let herself smoke. “So who knows about the baby?” she asked.
“You, me, Conner, Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph.”
“And who knows that Conner’s the father?”
“Just you, me and Conner. And I want to leave it that way, okay?”
Rebecca’s lips turned down. “You’re the one telling everyone.”
“Well, you’re the one who works at a beauty salon and does more gossiping than hair care. And I don’t want Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph to find out—certainly not until they get used to the idea of me having a baby on my own. If I told them now, Aunt Millie would probably make Uncle Ralph march over to the Running Y and demand that Conner marry me.” She noticed Rebecca’s agitated hair-twirling again and said, “Why don’t you go have a cigarette?”
Rebecca didn’t budge. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged impatiently. “I quit.”
Delaney let her head fall back on the chair. “Oh Lord, not now.” Rebecca had tried to quit several times before. She always lasted a few weeks, then caved in, and those weeks were hell for both of them. She’d eat like a horse, litter the house with empty ice cream containers and cookie and candy bar wrappers and complain about the smallest things, slowly driving Delaney crazy.
“That’s some support, Laney,” Rebecca said in a sarcastic voice.
“You know I want you to quit. I’ve been after you to give up smoking for years. But right now, I can’t deal with you constantly chewing your nails and twisting your hair and bouncing your knee. Can’t we get through this Conner mess first? One nervous wreck at a time is enough in this house, and I got there before you.”
“I won’t be difficult,” Rebecca insisted. “I have more resolve. I can do it.”
Delaney was afraid for her friend’s health. And she didn’t particularly relish the smell of smoke that trailed into the house on Rebecca’s hair and clothes. But Rebecca had been smoking since she was sixteen. It wasn’t an easy habit to break. They already knew that from past failures.
“Why now?” Delaney asked.
Rebecca picked up the remote and turned on the television.
“Why now, Beck?” Delaney pressed. “Is it because I’m pregnant?”
“That’s part of it.” Rebecca blew her short bangs off her forehead. “And I saw Josh today. At the drugstore.”
Josh. Rebecca hadn’t talked about him for a couple of months, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He and Rebecca went way back, to their childhoods. And somehow, whenever he became involved in anything that included Rebecca, the world tilted a little off its axis.
“Did you speak to him?” she asked, wondering why a recent sighting of Josh would be a factor in giving up cigarettes.
She nodded. “He stopped to congratulate me on my upcoming marriage.”
“That was nice of him,” Delaney murmured, but Rebecca offered nothing more, and what she’d said so far didn’t explain why this chance meeting was significant. “Is he still with Mary Thornton?” she asked, probing for the connection.
“Yeah. She was with him.” Rebecca made a face. “All that perkiness makes me want to slap her, you know? Doesn’t she get on your nerves?”
Delaney had never been fond of Mary, either, but she was a little surprised that Rebecca seemed to feel so strongly about her all of a sudden. “So how does this connect with your new resolve to quit smoking?”
“I think Mary whispered something to Josh about me always smelling like smoke.”
So that was the story. What Mary said had gotten to Rebecca. But why? Rebecca didn’t care what other people thought. Especially Josh. Delaney had grown up with the two of them, had witnessed how they competed and goaded and snubbed each other. Although, there was that one night when Rebecca and Josh had danced at the Honky Tonk, and finally left together. But ever since Buddy came on the scene, Delaney had figured that was all in the past.
“I’m guessing they’ll be getting married soon,” Rebecca said.
“Probably,” Delaney agreed. “I’m surprised Josh has waited as long as he has to find a wife.”
“He’s been too involved in building his business. He’s driven, doesn’t do anything halfway.”
Was that admiration Delaney detected? She shook her head in confusion. One minute, Rebecca’s tone was disparaging, the next it was almost…wistful. “Does this have something to do with that night the two of you left the Honky Tonk and went to his place?” she asked.
Rebecca’s hair-twirling suddenly sped up. “It didn’t mean anything to me. You know that.”
Uneasiness crept up Delaney’s spine, and it had nothing to do with the blatant worry she felt about her own situation. Was Rebecca rushing toward certain marital disaster?
Delaney hesitated, but what needed to be said needed to be said. Better now than after the wedding. “Beck, if you have any kind of feelings for Josh—”
“Stop it!” Rebecca said. “I don’t feel anything for him. I’ve never even liked him.”
“It wouldn’t be fair to Buddy if—”
“I said I don’t feel anything for him. He belongs with Mary Thornton or someone just like her. She fits into the Dundee mold. She’d never do anything that would so much as raise his eyebrows. I’m not like that, and we both know it.”
“But do you love Buddy?” Delaney asked.
“Of course I do.” Then she stood and headed to her room, leaving a Seinfeld rerun on the TV. “I’m going to bed.”