“Let’s go,” Grace said, turning back to her mother and sister.
Irene and Madeline hadn’t seen Kennedy yet, which made her think she might have a chance of convincing them. Clay was supposed to be coming tonight, with Alexandra, whom he’d been seeing off and on lately. They could find him if they were lucky. But it was no good. Irene and Madeline were far too pleased with the reversal in their situation to want to be discreet about their presence.
“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Madeline said.
“Just about everyone can see us,” her mother added.
That was the problem. Grace didn’t want to be so close to Kennedy. And she knew that if Teddy and Heath saw her, they’d make a big deal about coming over, which meant she’d be even more visible.
Sitting down, she did her best to hide behind the people between them, and once again felt Cindy watching her from the other direction. She turned, prepared to stare her down. But Cindy didn’t appear to be angry. As soon as their eyes met, she nodded to her right and Grace followed the direction of her nod to see Joe. He was talking to his parents about thirty feet beyond Cindy, but even from that distance, Grace could tell that his face was as beat-up as Irene had said.
Grace glanced back at Cindy to find her smiling broadly—and couldn’t help smiling back.
Joe watched the crowds visiting the restrooms and the concession stand located to one side of the football field, searching for Buzz. He hadn’t wanted to come tonight. But, as his mother had pointed out, it was important that he let as many people as possible see what Kennedy had done. He also needed to work fast to insure that all his friends, who were also Kennedy’s friends, didn’t immediately side with Kennedy. If he could reach Buzz before Kennedy did and give his side, Buzz would probably stay out of it, and Ronnie and Tim and the others would likely follow his lead.
That was all Joe hoped to accomplish. He didn’t want to feel isolated. He wouldn’t allow Grace—or even Kennedy—to do that to him.
Walking restlessly back and forth, he glared sullenly at anyone who dared get too close. Unless it was someone he felt he should acknowledge. Then he’d grunt and wave as though he was in too much pain to do more.
And he was. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He looked terrible. People were treating him like Frankenstein’s monster….
Where the hell was Buzz? He had to be here somewhere. The fireworks wouldn’t start until twilight deepened into darkness. They had at least fifteen minutes, and if he knew Sarah Harte, she’d have Buzz at the concession stand, getting her something calorie-laden. If she’d been his wife, Joe would’ve put a stop to the weight gain right away. But when she acknowledged her widening hips, Buzz simply laughed and called it “happy fat.”
Joe just called it fat. And he didn’t find it appealing.
A laugh came from somewhere behind him—a laugh he immediately recognized—and he pivoted to see Grace standing next to Madeline at the cotton candy machine not ten feet away. “I haven’t had this stuff since I was ten years old,” she said.
Joe’s stomach knotted with a mixture of resentment and admiration. Maybe Grace was white trash and liked to pretend she wasn’t. And maybe she’d cost him his best friend—he’d never forgive her for that. But she sure was beautiful, and getting prettier every day. Since she’d come to Stillwater, her skin had tanned to a deep golden color and looked soft as satin, and her eyes had begun to sparkle with a liveliness he’d never seen there before. In that sundress, she was the epitome of feminine. She always exuded sensuality, but tonight more than ever. Knowing that Kennedy had been in her bed last night drove Joe crazy. His muscles bunched as he imagined Kennedy pumping into her….
“Remember mixing butter and sugar together and eating it when Mom wasn’t home?” he heard Madeline ask.
Her voice carried to him as easily as Grace’s had. They were in a good mood, enjoying themselves.
Joe resented that, too. He was miserable because of Grace. Why should she be having fun?
“Yes!” Grace licked a piece of cotton candy from her lips and laughed again. “Wow, that brings back memories.”
Circling wide, Joe came up behind them. “What about those bleachers?” he said, speaking into Grace’s ear.
Her spine practically snapped as she whirled around to face him. “What about them?” she challenged, the levity gone from her wide, thick-lashed eyes.
“Do they bring back memories, too? That was our spot, remember?” He licked his fingers and rubbed them in front of his bandaged nose. “I can still smell you, Grace.”
Blanching, she threw the cotton candy she’d just purchased into the trash can. “With what’s left of your nose, it’s funny you can smell anything,” she said and grabbed Madeline’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Joe had meant to intimidate her, upset her. But like every encounter with Grace these days, this exchange hadn’t given him the satisfaction he craved. Somehow, he wanted to make her need him again. Like she used to, back when she wasn’t fit to lick his boots.
He reached out to stop her from going, but dropped his arm when the crowd parted and he spotted Buzz talking to Camille Archer.
“What’s that bitch want with Buzz?” he muttered to himself and slipped through the people between them. He hoped to get close enough to hear. But Kennedy’s mother nodded, touched Buzz’s arm affectionately in parting and headed to the field before he could catch even a wisp of their conversation.
“Hey,” Joe called, striding up.
Buzz had been wearing a puzzled expression as he watched Camille disappear into the crowd, but it turned to surprise when he saw Joe. “Damn, you look even worse than I expected. What the hell did you do to make Kennedy tear you apart like that?”
“I could’ve stopped him,” Joe said. “But I was trying not to hurt him. We’ve been friends all our lives, you know. I still don’t understand what made him come at me like that. I was just joking around.”
Buzz didn’t seem completely convinced, but he didn’t argue. “Come on, Sarah and the kids are hungry,” he said and got in line at the snack bar.
“What’d Camille want?” Joe asked conversationally. “To tell you how I’ve mistreated her boy? First, I save Kennedy’s fool life. Then he dates the woman who probably murdered my uncle and busts up my face for not liking it. I don’t know how anybody could feel too sorry for him.”