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“Dusty left you his car,” he said, peaking in the windows. “You own this?”
“Horns and all. Yes, for now. And it’s only one of his cars. He had others.”
Luke continued to peek in through the windows.
“It must be amazing to sit behind the wheel.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t gotten in it yet.”
He swung around to face me. “What? Why not? It’s in perfect condition. Look at those seats and that dash. It’s stunning craftmanship. Plus, I have a feeling Dusty added his own bits of comfort.”
“I’m sure he did,” I said, agreeing.
I truly didn’t know why I hadn’t sat in it yet. Booker had driven it home for me and parked it right in front of my apartment, but I hadn’t even opened the doors since that day. I had someone detail it yesterday, and I knew it had a full tank of gas, but that was the extent of my interaction with the strange, showy car.
As I sat on the bench, nodding to anyone I knew as they passed by, while also glancing back at Luke as he continued to admire the car, I realized I didn’t have a valid reason why I hadn’t bothered to sit behind the wheel.
Was I somehow scared of the darn thing? What the hell was it?
Perhaps I needed to talk to Shea about this, or The Ladies Who Knit on Thursday night during our weekly knitting circle. I was usually a take charge kind of gal, so my reaction to this whole Dusty inheritance threw me, especially now when Luke questioned me about it.
“So, you somehow gave Dusty the idea you liked big, flashy Caddies with horns on the grill?” Luke stood in front of me now, grinning. “Since when?”
“I have no idea why he left me one of his cars. It’s crazy, but we don’t have time to talk about that now. What did you want to say?”
He couldn’t seem to let it slide. “I only met Dusty a few times. He was more friends with Rascal’s dad, but we all knew about Dusty. He was one of a kind. That’s how we came by your video. Rascal’s parents attended the funeral and couldn’t say enough good things about you.”
I knew I shouldn’t have sung that song at the funeral. But it had turned out to be so much fun!
“Damn small towns. They’re like incest on steroids.”
He chuckled. “Good analogy.” Then he sat next to me on the bench. “You look amazing, Connie, and you sound amazing. I mean, I thought you were great back when we were in our teens, but now… wow… you’re incredible. Not only is your voice outstanding, but that video showed a part of you none of us had ever seen before. You were having fun, loving it, and everyone seemed to love you right back. What’s even more crazy is this was a funeral. If that’s what you can do on a day like that, I can’t even imagine what you can do during an actual performance, on a stage, in front of fans. Folks will be lining up just to watch you.”
Once again, Luke weaved unattainable dreams, ones I’d given up a long time ago.
“That was a one-off. I sang for Dusty because I knew he would’ve liked me to. We’d gotten to know each other in his last few months of his life, and when Booker asked me to sing… well… I couldn’t refuse. I owed Dusty that much. We’d become friends.”
“A friend who left you his car,” Luke said. “A nice little inheritance.”
“Oneof his cars. As I said, he’d had several, and I didn’t know I was getting the car when I started singing. Apparently, this car has the biggest set of horns on the grill. He left the other cars to members of his family. I tried to make them take this one back, but Booker wouldn’t allow it. He insisted that I at least give it the allotted time.”
“A good man.”
I didn’t want to tell him any more details, but I had a feeling he’d find out the rest anyway. “Plus, it comes with a small ranch over in Sweet Whiskey. If I give back the car, I have to give back the ranch as well. It’s a two-for-one kind of deal.”
“He left you an entire ranch? What’s that like?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it.”
“You haven’t seen it? Someone leaves you a ranch, and you don’t take the time to drive over and see it? Why the hell not?”
I stood then, getting agitated at all his questions. “Because I don’t want a ranch in Sweet Whiskey! I don’t want a monster car with horns as big as I am. I like my life the way it is, right here, in Cricket. It’s where my friends live. I have a job here. My apartment is here. My life is here, not in Sweet Whiskey. That town is an hour away, and it’s nothing like Cricket. You think the folks in Cricket are quirky. Yeah, well, Sweet Whiskey’s citizens are way quirkier… is that a word? Whatever… Did you watch that video? That was a funeral… a funeral! What normal group of people has a funeral like that? Granted, that’s what Dusty wanted, but still, the fact that those kinds of funerals are the norm in Sweet Whiskey tells you a lot about that town and the people who live there.”
He grinned while I complained. Grinned, like what I said was to be dismissed.
Well, I meant every word and wasn’t about to allow this interloper to change my mind no matter how utterly breathtaking he looked when he smiled, or how he turned me on just sitting next to him. I didn’t know if I liked what was happening to me, but no way would I allow him or any of them to overpower my emotions.
No fucking way!
