My Better Life

Diedre sighs. She has a small pile of shells in front of her that she’s shredding into fine strips. By the look of the pile, I don’t think she’s ever shelled a bean in her life.

“I agree with Granny Allwright. I know a lot about men.” She opens her eyes wide. “A lot. Just the other day, one of those repressed city boys messaged me and…” She looks over at Granny Allwright, then thinks better about what she was about to say. “Well, needless to say, a man never speaks the truth when he’s trying to…err…make whoopie.”

Gran snaps another shell and I flinch.

Diedre widens her eyes at me and nods meaningfully. “I can guarantee, if a man is trying to…make whoopie…”

“Diedre, for crying out loud, just say sex. I’m eighty-seven years old. I was doing the deed long before your daddy was even old enough to wank his own stick.”

Diedre coughs into her hand and I grin at her. Diedre’s dad was a legendary ladies man in his day, and everybody on the mountain knows it.

Finally, Diedre gets her coughing under control. She clears her throat. “That’s all well and good, but my point was, if a man wants to have sex with you, then he’ll say and do anything. If he doesn’t want to have sex with you, his true colors come out. Before Gavin lost his memory, he didn’t want to have sex with you, so he showed his real self. Now, he’s like a bear, chained to a tree, and you’re the only honey pot he can access. Of course he’s going to treat you nice. Of course he’s going to be charming. He’s being nice, right?” She narrows her eyes.

I nod. “Yeah. Real nice.”

Gran snaps another bean.

Diedre gives a satisfied smile. “I thought so. It’s not that he’s changed. It’s that he thinks you’re the honey pot. Don’t let his charm the honey pot routine distract you from your goal.”

I look at her forlornly. “What’s my goal again?”

Gran clicks her tongue. “Just desserts, Jamie. Getting what’s coming. And what’s coming is not a biddable wife and dancing in the sheets.”

Diedre coughs. “Uh, thought we were saying sex?”

I block out the image of Gavin and me rolling on my bed, the sheets wrapped around us.

“Shush. I’m serious here. Repeat after me.” Gran stares me down like a general preparing her troops for battle.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Gavin Williams is a no-good, selfish, horrible man.”

I flinch, but say, “Gavin Williams is a no-good, selfish, horrible man.”

Gran nods. “I will not be swayed by sweet words, handsome looks, or”—she glares—“rampant sex appeal.”

Diedre snorts and covers her mouth with her hand.

I sigh. “Gran…”

“Jamie Lynn.” She crosses her bony arms over her chest.

I look up to heaven. She’s right. Diedre’s right. To use a cliché, a leopard can’t change its spots, it can only shave them off, but the fur always grows back. Gavin might seem different, but he’s only being nice because he thinks I’m the honey pot. He’s still the same man underneath.

I firm my jaw and look at Gran and Diedre.

“Okay.” I nod. My resolve is back. “I will not be swayed by sweet words, handsome looks, or rampant sex appeal.”

Diedre grins at me. “There’s my best friend. Go get ’em, tiger.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out. The kitchen smells sweet and earthy, the bean shells pungent. My panic is gone, my confusion is gone, and it feels like I can take a normal breath again.

But there’s one more thing. “I think…I’m worried the kids will get too attached.”

I touch my necklace, the glass sliver in the locket. I saw how Elijah was looking at Gavin during story time. Tanner too. Even Shay curled up beside him, like a cat on a rug.

Gran scoffs. “No chance. Your kids are smart and tough. They know what’s what. Remember how long it took them to warm up to Regal Miller?”