Jack swung the heavy door of Pour Decisions open and spotted Wanda Atkins immediately. She always had that effect on him. A quick hit of adrenaline followed by a hunger. He could sense she was near even in a crowded movie theater, pick her voice out in the grocery store, and her laugh haunted him in his dreams. If he was a smart man, he’d ask her out.
Alas, Jack was book smart only. Logically, Wanda should want nothing to do with him, especially after his sister tormented her through school. Jack was three years older than Wanda, and liked to believe that if he knew it’d been going on, he’d have done something.
Truth was, his past self probably would’ve kept his head down and ignored it. That shame ate at him, and he worked to be a better man. And maybe someday, Wanda would notice him. He wanted more than her polite smile.
He walked past Wanda, giving her a chin nod, and headed to the table in back. The wood floors were hundreds of years old and warped in places, but still solid. Kind of like the owners. Locals believed Wanda, her mother, and grandmother were cursed witches. No man survived their relationship with an Atkins woman.
Jack didn’t believe in the curse…but they probably were witches.
He slid into the Pour Decisions booth, the well-worn leather creaking, and settled beside his boss, Sheriff Christian Bias. Two other deputies, twins Roy and Rick, sat on the other side. “What’s the special?” Jack asked.
“Gumbo.” Christian handed him the menu that frequently changed based on Ms. Nell’s moods.
Jack scanned it to make sure the turkey sandwich was available for dinner.
Wanda approached the table wearing a faded Pour Decisions Start Here t-shirt, cut-offs, and flip-flops. “What can I get you to drink?”
Jack loved the sound of her voice. “Lemonade.” He nodded once and handed her the menu.
“Y’all ready to order, or are you waiting for more?” Wanda eyed the men.
“Ready,” Christian said.
Wanda took their orders and left.
Rick leaned toward the center of the table. “I asked her out.”
Regret slapped Jack, making it hard to draw breath. He kept his face neutral, while berating himself for being an idiot and waiting so long.
Roy cackled. “She said he was too much man for her.”
Jack grinned. Relief flooded through him, and he relaxed. Rick was an avid hunter and fisher, but looked more like Ichabod Crane.
Christian snorted. “That’s the best ‘no’ I’ve ever heard.”
Rick shook his head. “I don’t get it. I never see her go out.”
As if that was the only reason she’d say yes to a date. Jack cleared his throat. “She doesn’t hunt or fish. Y’all are hardly gonna bump into each other.”
Rick leaned back and crossed his arms. “How do you know? And are you bumping into her, Mr. Country Club?”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “I don’t belong to the country club. But I’ve seen her at the movies plenty of times.” Usually with Ms. Nell and Ms. Lydia. He saw her around town. Since she’d graduated college and moved back home, she’d been busy with Pour Decisions. She never seemed to have free time, unless Pour was closed.
“Well, you’ve dated half of the club,” Rick muttered.
Closer to a third of the eligible women. Jack shrugged a shoulder. “Next time I get an invite, I’ll bring you as my plus-one.”
“Deal,” Rick reached across the table to shake Jack’s hand.
A quick squeal of pleasure drew his attention to the bar. Wanda hugged Mark VanWhorsten.
“Look who’s back in town,” Jack said.
They all craned their necks to see Mark release Wanda and then pick up her mom, Miss Lydia and spin her around.
“What’s that story?” Christian asked.
“He used to work for them,” Rick said.
Truth was, Jack knew Wanda had slipped fifteen-year-old Mark the basement key to the church across the street from her house so he could sleep somewhere safe when his dad got drunk and abusive. His dad ended up burning down the house the next week. Mark moved in with his aunt afterwards. Wanda’s mom, Ms. Lydia, hired Mark to wash dishes at their pub after school so that when he graduated, he’d have enough money to move out.
“Must be in town for his aunt’s birthday,” Christian said.
“How’s she doin’?” Jack asked.
“Happiest I’ve ever seen her. Avoid her if you can. She’s got sonogram pictures of Tilly and Mooch’s baby.” Christian shivered. “Talkin’ ‘bout hot dogs and hamburgers…”
“They don’t have hot dogs,” Rick said.
A discussion Jack wanted no part of continued while he watched Wanda push through the kitchen door with plates lined up on her arms.
Saving Mark hadn’t been the only time one of Wanda’s predictions had helped someone. At Christmas, when Jack was eighteen, she stopped him and said, “Don’t buy the motorcycle,” then ran away. He had no idea how she’d known he’d offered to buy one from a senior in his fraternity. But he trusted her. The bike’s motor blew up two weeks later and severely injured the owner. He’d almost lost his leg.
Jack still harbored guilt about not warning the guy, but then he’d have sounded crazy.
And everyone treated Wanda and her family like they were crazy.
Jack didn’t have skin that thick.
That’s when she began to invade his thoughts daily. “What would Wanda do?” became a mantra. He wanted to have the fortitude to do the right thing even when it would cost his personal reputation. He failed, regularly. Growing up in a small town where reputation meant everything to his family put him on edge. His mother constantly reminded him he was the man of the family. Jack’s father had died in a boating accident when he was twelve. Strangely enough, it’d been Wanda’s grandmother, Ms. Nell, who’d hired him to do yard work that day so he couldn’t go with his dad.
He suspected Wanda had seen something and Ms. Nell had handled it.
It wasn’t like he could ask his mom about it. Jack had been hearing ghosts since he was seven. They lived at the old Atkins farm, and the Atkins’ ghosts didn’t like the Kelly family on their land. He’d told his parents, but they told him he’d been dreaming.
So he stopped telling them anything and tried to be the son they wanted.
He dated women his mother approved of. The kind he was supposed to marry. But he never felt like himself, or that they wanted the same things in life he did. He was always on his best behavior, never relaxing, going to things because they “had to” rather than wanted to.
It was exhausting.
Christian clapped his hands ending their discussion. “Now that that’s settled, what are we getting Leo for the baby shower, and why do they now invite men to baby showers?”
Wanda set Jack’s lemonade in front of him and a new soda for Roy.
Christian stared at her.
“Are you asking me?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She glanced at the four men, her eyes seeming to linger on Jack. “Well, the simple answer is that family and friends should all be excited and interested in supporting the parents bringing a new life into the community, and that’s why the celebration includes everyone.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “And the complicated answer?”
Wanda’s lips twitched, and Jack was hit with the full force of her attention. Her curly red hair had darkened some since she was a girl, but the flames were still there. Auburn hair, amber eyes — a force in flip-flops.
Jack’s heart tripped and then raced.
“Parenting requires both partners to be present these days. It’s no longer golfing all day Saturday while the little wife stays at home to care for the kids. Partners no longer ‘babysit’ — they actually parent and share the domestic chores. Therefore, the baby shower celebrates with both parents.”
Rick scoffed.
Wanda cocked her head to the side and wrinkled her nose. “And that’s why you’re too much man for me.”
She pointed to Christian. “They probably have a wish list or are registered somewhere. Read all the words on the invitation, and you’ll find it. If the four of you are going in together, aim for the crib or the stroller. Those can be expensive. In a pinch, get 100 diapers in the smallest size and 100 in the next size up. Make sure you include the receipt in the card envelope, and yes, you need a card.”
She turned and left.
Jack was in love.
***
They left the pub and did the usual shoulder slaps and waves in the marina parking lot before climbing into their trucks. Jack drove around for a while, feeling empty and restless. He wanted to ask Wanda out but not in front of the patrons of Pour. And honestly, Ms. Nell scared him a little. She was super accurate reading tarot cards, and he wasn’t positive, but he suspected she could do more than just read people…she might be able to read minds.
As a cop, he’d always wanted to ask Ms. Nell about it. As a human male, he was too chicken. Still, it’d be a useful skill for his line of work. He found himself pulling into the marina parking lot a little before one. He watched as Wanda exited the alley and headed toward the marina store. It was the only 24 hour market open in the area.
He waited until she was inside the store before getting out of his truck. Inside, he found her eyeing the take one/leave one book shelf. She held a battered romance book and resolved it when he approached.
“How’s it goin’?” He hated the words as soon as they escaped.
She grinned. “Good.” She tilted her chin. “How are you?”
He shrugged. “Good.” His conversational abilities needed work.
“How’s your family?” Wanda turned to face him. She still wore her Pour Decisions shirt, cutoffs, and flip-flops. He liked it.
He rolled his eyes, thinking of his mom’s latest project. “Mom wants to redecorate the house.” It wasn’t like they hosted constant parties or anything.
“She spending too much time watching HGTV?”
“Yeah. Why does Pantone have to come out with a new color every year?”
She smiled. “The question is, why do people care?”
He grunted. “True.” Why do people care?
He was still pondering that when she walked away. She gave him a quick wave. “See ya’ later.”
He nodded back. Guess that conversation’s over.
Eddie, the cashier gave him the stink-eye and Jack wandered over to the drink cooler.
Why do people care? Wanda’s throw away question about the color of the year rattled around in his head. Why did he care what people thought, especially when it was something that didn’t affect them? What car he drove, where he worked out, and who he went out with were all things that should only matter to him. Except, somehow, in Atkinsville it was a topic of discussion.
He should join the country club and use their gym. But the gym downtown was more convenient, cheaper, and had all the same equipment. He should get a new car with a heated steering wheel. Which, he admitted, had some merit, but his truck was eight years old and still had another 100,000 miles to go on the engine. He was more of a “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” kind of guy, surrounded by people who used their possessions to show their success.
And then there was Wanda.
She wore the same thing pretty much every day. That was something no woman he’d ever dated had done. And she looked comfortable in her own skin.
That made him a little jealous.
He pulled a soda out of the cooler and walked back to the cashier.
Wanda froze when she saw him and hid what she was holding.
He cocked his head. “What are you trying to hide?”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. “I’m not hiding anything.” Her tone was petulant.
He nodded toward her hands.
She placed the items on the counter. A candy bar, powdered donuts, and an energy drink. She faced him. “Sometimes I get snacky.”
Jack grabbed a jerky and a bag of peanuts. “Me too.” He pointed to her pile. “You’re missing the most important food group.” He placed the peanuts on the counter. “Salt.”
Wanda faced Eddie, her eyes narrowing. “I’m hoping you’ve got my favorite chips hiding somewhere.”
Eddie pulled a bag of kettle chips from under the counter. “I do.”
Wanda grinned. “You’re my favorite person.” She handed him the exact change. Clearly this was a regular snack run.
Eddie returned her smile. “Next shipment of chips doesn’t come in until Tuesday.”
Wanda grunted. “I’ll see if I can make them last.” She gathered up her snacks, her lips twitching as if holding back a smile and maybe daring him to say something.
He wanted to ask her why she was snacky after working at a pub all day. He tossed a ten on the counter and followed her out, stuffing his jerky and peanuts into his pocket, and held on to the soda.
“You walkin’ home?” He didn’t mean to sound gruff, but it was late and he didn’t like the idea of her walking alone.
Wanda turned to face him. “I am.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his reply.
He jogged a few steps to stand beside her. “It’s a good night for a walk.”
She hummed and continued to her house.
He fell into step beside her.
She chuffed. “You ought to be careful. If you’re seen talking to me it’ll ruin your reputation.” Her voice was cheerful, but she kept her face straight ahead.
Anger that people made her feel that way flared in his gut. “Small towns can be stupid.”
She chuckled. “That’s true for all humanity. People can do horrible destruction with a few hateful words. I love Atkinsville and this community, even if it has a ridiculous memory.” She sighed and bumped up against him. “Why are you walking me home, Jack?”
His name on her lips was sweet.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I really don’t know. I wanted to, so I did.”
She nodded and cast a mischievous glance his way. “Look at you, doing something you want instead of something expected.”
Crap. How had she nailed exactly how he felt so accurately? She understood him and maybe still liked him. “You sure you aren’t psychic?”
She laughed. “No. I’d have won the lottery many times over if I was.”
“But you knew something about the motorcycle,” he gently reminded her.
She sucked in a breath. “That was a long time ago.”
He nodded. “I feel bad I never warned him. He recovered, but still…”
Wanda nodded. “I get it. I can’t tell if something is really going to happen or if it’s just a dream. I took a chance, but sometimes I don’t.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
She nodded, letting him know she’d heard him. They were in front of her house now. It sat back from the road and was surrounded by big blackthorn trees, standing like guards around the perimeter.
He stepped closer and pushed an errant curl away from her eyes. “You have beautiful hair.” It twisted around his fingers and he carefully pulled his hand away.
She huffed. “It looks like an untamed sheep that hates mornings as much as I do.”
Jack chuckled. “Maybe I could help you tame it over dinner.”
Wanda looked down at her feet, a curtain of hair hiding her expression. “Maybe.” She raised her chin and an impish grin graced her face.
His heart thudded hard against his ribs. He smiled, afraid to say anything that might ruin this moment. She waited, eyes watching him curiously.
Jack leaned in.
She didn’t move.
He kissed her cheek.
She sucked in a breath.
“Have a good night, Wanda.” He trailed his hand down her arm.
“Thanks. You too.”
Her breathy voice made him want to pull her closer, kiss her everywhere. He stood, rooted to the spot.
Wanda disappeared into the house, casting a quick glance his way before closing the door.
Jack walked back to his truck at the marina. At least she didn’t say no…
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