“I’ll call Scarlett,” I said. “If it’s not available, she might know of something else.”
“Fine. But don’t stay here too long. It took a lot of dialect coaching to get rid of your accent. Don’t go all country on me.”
“Y’all are worryin’ about nothin’,” I said in my best Appalachian twang.
Kelvin just shook his head.
9
JAMESON
I t was with no small amount of reluctance that I followed Jonah into Moonshine. The smell of fresh coffee and pancakes on the griddle greeted us. Normally I wouldn’t mind an early Saturday family meeting. Whit cooked up the best waffles in Olamette County, and that was a fact. But even the promise of waffles for breakfast wasn’t enough to lighten my mood this morning.
Leah Mae had left town yesterday.
I was doing my best to act like nothing was wrong. Wasn’t about to let on that I was missing her already. How would I explain that? She wasn’t mine to miss. She was going back where she belonged. Better for everyone this way.
My head sorta believed that, but there was this feeling in my chest—an ache that wouldn’t go away—that said my heart disagreed.
I glanced at my phone again, wondering if she was going to say goodbye. That was probably what hurt the most. I hadn’t heard a word from her. I understood her not having time to come see my shop. She’d said she wasn’t sure, what with her daddy being sick lately. I wasn’t bothered by that. I’d hoped she would have at least sent me a text that she was leaving. But I hadn’t heard a peep.
All those thoughts of Leah Mae did not put me in the mood for socializing with my siblings. But Jayme had called Bowie to let him know we could get back into Dad’s house. So it was time to make a plan.
Bowie was already in a booth with a cup of coffee. Jonah and I slid in next to him just as Scarlett and Devlin wandered in. They both looked tired. I wondered if something had kept them up late, but quickly decided I didn’t want to know.
“Mornin’ y’all,” Scarlett said. “Clarabell, this girl needs caffeine, and lots of it.”
“Comin’ right up,” Clarabell said.
Gibson walked in and tipped his chin to Clarabell. He pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table. Clarabell filled our mugs, then took everyone’s orders before going to check on her other customers.
I added sugar to my coffee, ignoring the look Jonah gave me. He was always giving me grief about how much sugar I ate.
“Well, let’s get things settled,” Bowie said. “Jayme said we can get back into Dad’s place as of today. There’s still a lot of stuff to sort through. Then it’ll be a matter of hauling things where they need to go. The dump, thrift store, what have you.”
“Sounds fair,” Scarlett said. “Then me and Gibs can get it ready to flip. We’ll need all y’all’s help with that work, too, though. Don’t forget.”
“We’ve got you,” Bowie said.
Jonah and I nodded. Gibson grunted and sipped his coffee.
“What day works for everyone to get started?” Bowie asked. “Tomorrow’s a holiday, and Monday’s the fifth, so that’s out.”
We all nodded. The fifth of July was a no-go for everyone in Bootleg. Clarabell would open Moonshine, and it was likely the Pop In and a few other places would open their doors—mostly for tourists who didn’t understand how things worked. But the day after the Fourth of July was not a day for working around these parts. Bootleg Springs took her Independence Day festivities very seriously. Which meant copious amounts of liquor and some serious post-holiday hangovers.
“Let’s plan for Tuesday, then,” Bowie said. “Meet here for breakfast first, then we’ll tackle the house. Get through as much as we can that day, then decide from there.”
Clarabell brought our breakfasts, passing out plates stacked high with food. My waffles looked tasty, but I still wasn’t in much of a mood for ’em.
“Sounds good,” Scarlett said.
“I’ll be there to help,” Jonah said.
Scarlett smiled at him. “You’re a good sort, Jonah Bodine.”