Liars (Licking Thicket 2)

“Do we have plans tomorrow?”

“Not yet.” He shrugged. “But we can make some.”

I grinned. That sounded just about perfect. But before I could say so, someone rang the doorbell.

Diesel scowled. “Who the heck could that be?”

“Ava’s crew again, maybe? Thicket Beautification Corps Part Deux: Revenge of the Corps?”

“Awesome.” He rolled his eyes. “You wanna…?”

“I’ll defend us from them,” I vowed, giving him an easy smile. “They won’t get past me.”

But when I threw open the front door, it wasn’t Ava.

“Uncle Beau?” I demanded, horrified.

“Morning, Parrish!” He smiled broadly. “What a fine Friday!”

I looked beyond him, to where his Cadillac was parked in Diesel’s driveway. “What are you doing here? How… how did you know where to find me?”

“Oh, son.” Beau thumped his cane on the porch once and shook his head. “I know I like to say you can do anything you set your mind to, but never try being sneaky. Y’ain’t suited to it. Suffice it to say, I have my ways.” He pursed his lips, and it made his mustache twitch. “Mind if I come in?”

“I… But I…” I sighed. What the heck was I going to say? “Yes. Of course.”

Uncle Beau stepped over the threshold and looked around the relatively tidy living room. “So I heard from Colin that you called in sick yesterday,” he said. “I made the mistake of mentioning that to your aunt Marnie, and she texted you, but you didn’t reply.”

I winced. “Oh. Uh. Shoot.” In my defense, that had occurred sometime between rounds five and six, but I felt like Uncle Beau wouldn’t be impressed by this excuse. “Sorry?”

“Uh-huh. So, of course this morning she tasked me with finding out whether you were alive or dead. ‘But who’ll take care of him down there in Licking Thicket, Beau?’ she asked.”

I rubbed a hand over my forehead. My aunt Marnie was a sweet, caring woman, who loved the heck out of me, but she was not the hover-er of the two of them. I knew exactly who’d wanted to make sure I was alive, and he was right now taking a seat in Diesel’s easy chair.

“I stopped by to the B&B, but you weren’t there. Imagine my shock when your sweet landlady explained she hadn’t seen you since Wednesday.”

I winced again. Damn it all, Beau did have his ways.

“So then I asked Brooks, and he had the craziest story to tell me—” Beau broke off with a frown and lifted his leg to remove the chicken pacifier that must have been tossed on the chair. “Hmm.”

“I, um…” I wasn’t sure what the hell I was planning to say, but then Diesel came out of the bedroom carrying Marigold, and what I blurted was, “This is not what it looks like!”

“Really?” Beau chuckled. “’Cause it looks an awful lot like a baby to me.”

“Well, yes, she is, but…” I cleared my throat. “Uncle Beau, this is Diesel Church and his niece. I mean, his ward. I mean.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “This is his daughter. Marigold.”

Beau smiled warmly. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Marigold.” His smile dimmed a fraction. “And Diesel.”

Marigold held out her arms for me and babbled, but I pretended I couldn’t see. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of anything I was doing here, but I hadn’t quite followed my lie through to its natural conclusion: I might not only have to lie to the caseworker and Stewie and Gil Hammersmith about who Diesel and I were to each other, I might have to lie to my aunt and uncle too.

The baby fussed more loudly, not used to me ignoring her ever, so I gave in and took her from Diesel. Without hesitation, she cuddled into my neck, just as she had the night before, and I sighed because she was the most important person in the room, and I needed to remember that.

“Mr. Partridge,” Diesel began. “How about some coffee and some cake Parrish made yesterday?”

“I’d love some,” Beau said genially. But after Diesel left the room, he narrowed his gaze on me. “As I was saying, maybe Malachi and Brooks weren’t so crazy. In particular, I heard about a kissing incident at the Pickin’ the other day?”

“It was a tradition,” I whispered helplessly.

Beau’s eyes twinkled. “A new tradition you created, according to Brooks,” Beau said. “He said you were real convincing, son. I believe his exact words were ‘Why don’t you have Parrish on your marketing team, Beau? That boy could sell water to a drowning man and make him say thank you.’”

I laughed slightly, but my cheeks burned and, weirdly, my eyes filled up.

Only because I was tired, obviously.

I turned to put the baby in her exercise dish so Beau wouldn’t see. “Wow. That’s quite a compliment coming from him.”

“Parrish,” Beau said seriously. “What’s going on here?”