“Yeah.” Tabitha sighed, because her mother did it too, started selling the food stamps to someone at a discount and used the money to buy the booze she really liked. Even if they bought different stuff, the end result was same. “I hate ’em too, but at least we got cookies.”
Clay turned to her, and a small bit of hope shone in his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. “True.”
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure.”
Clay followed her in there, and he didn’t offer anything over the state of her clothes. He just handed her a towel while she worked at trying to get all the dirt and blood off. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her beaten up because of Brett.
“Maybe you ought to have the piglet kick his ass for you?”
Tabitha was working on dabbing one of her sore knees and looked up at Clay expectantly. “Huh?”
“Brett,” Clay clarified as he gave her another gap-toothed grin. “Have the piglet beat him up since he’s such an awesome ninja.”
Tabitha giggled and went back to dabbing her knees. “Wyatt Conner ain’t that bad. I think it hurts his feelings when you call him piglet.”
“That’s what he is,” Clay said as if that made it perfectly acceptable. “A little pig that’s gonna grow up into a big, mean one just as bad as his granddaddy.”
“Sheriff Conner ain’t mean,” Tabitha argued. “Just nosy.”
Clay rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. Then he studied one of her knees that didn’t want to stop bleeding. “Next time I’ll walk with you.”
“S’okay.” Tabitha looked up and smiled. “Can’t be there all the time, and here is so much better to make stuff. No Brett to steal our food.”
“I’d have beaten him up for ya.”
“He’s in fifth grade now,” Tabitha reminded him. “Him and Vaughn would kick your butt for even thinking of trying it.”
“I ain’t scared of Vaughn,” Clay said with a dark, malicious glare. “Or Brett.”
“Yeah, you’re dumb like that.”
Clay laughed at the insult. “So what’d ya bring?”
Tabitha abandoned her work on her knees and turned to her book bag. She pulled out the box of Hamburger Helper and looked at the back again. “I think I can cook it. Just need water.”
“Ain’t ya supposed to use meat with it?”
“I was thinking we could mix ketchup with the sauce powder stuff and put that on top. Sort of like pretend meat.”
“That ain’t nothing like meat.”
Tabitha looked up hesitantly. “I got cheese, but it’s sort of rotten-looking.”
Clay considered her quietly for one long moment and then took the box out of her hands. “You still got the cookies?”
Tabitha grinned. “Yeah, he didn’t find ’em. I had ’em in a side pocket.”
“Then let’s make ketchup pasta,” Clay agreed, “and have cookies for dessert.”
Chapter Five
“I need lots of cookies.” Wyatt jumped on the counter, then kicked his feet back against the cabinet as he watched his grandpa pack his and Jules’s lunches for the next day. “Like twice as much as yesterday.”
Grandpa Charlie sent him a sideways look as he worked on putting peanut butter on bread. “Boy, what aren’t ya telling me?”
“Nothing.” Wyatt shrugged. “I like cookies.”
“Someone stealing your cookies? I know it ain’t always easy being a Conner. I’m an old sheriff, but I remember. You getting picked on?”
Wyatt gave him a look. “I got a purple belt, Grandpa.”
“He gave his cookies to Tabitha McMillen,” Jules announced as she sat at the table in her nightgown, reading something, probably for extra credit even though school just started because she was annoying like that. “Sara told Marcy at recess that she saw him hand over the whole stack.”
Wyatt really wished he were one of those guys like Clay Powers who had no problem cussing and flipping people off, because he’d surely like to say something colorful to his sister.
“Ah.” Grandpa Charlie sent him another sly look. This time a smile tugged at his lips. “You sweet on that little McMillen girl?”
“No,” Wyatt said quickly. “She just looked really happy to get the dang cookies.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Grandpa hummed in disbelief.
“I ain’t lying.” Wyatt threw his hand down defensively. “You’d think a couple of crumbly cookies were the greatest thing in the world with the way she was holding on to ’em. It was like Jules with a new doll.”
“I don’t play with dolls anymore.”
“She’s the liar.” Wyatt pointed at his sister accusingly, because they both knew she still played with them. “She told dad she was trying to get gunk off her teeth when he caught her sticking her tongue out at me, and
he believed it
.”
Grandpa Charlie laughed, which annoyed Wyatt. Jules got away with everything, but if he slouched, it was a smack on the head and a reminder that Conners don’t do things like that. It was like the world expected him to be perfect.
He hopped off the counter and was two steps from storming out of the room, when Grandpa Charlie’s big hand wrapped around Wyatt’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
“I didn’t call ya a liar.”
“Yeah, you did. You don’t believe me about the cookies. You’re always saying I’m supposed to look out for people smaller than me, and when I do, you—”
“I’ll pack the cookies. Two sets, one for you and one for your girlfriend.”
Wyatt growled, and Grandpa Charlie laughed again.
“She’s
not
my girlfriend.”
In a lightning-fast move, Wyatt twisted his arm, forcing his wrist against his grandpa’s thumb, using a common self-defense technique to break his hold. He dashed out of the kitchen. He was almost to the stairs when he got caught a second time. This time his grandpa wrapped both arms around his waist and hauled Wyatt off his feet while he fought tooth and nail.
But his grandpa was still laughing, which made Wyatt laugh. He let his guard down enough that he ended up tossed over his grandpa’s shoulder while he wheezed from laughing so hard.
“Boy, you keep taking life so serious, you’re gonna end up as grouchy as your daddy.”
Not to be left out of the game, Jules came barreling in from kitchen. “Don’t pick on my daddy!”
Even upside down Wyatt could see Jules’s hair flying behind her as she launched herself at their grandfather. She wrapped both her arms around his legs and threw her shoulder into an impressive tackle.
Grandpa Charlie went down like a ton of bricks, but Wyatt knew he was faking it, because neither Wyatt nor Jules ended up hurt. He pushed Wyatt off him and grabbed for Jules, who let out a squeal and tried to escape.
“You don’t like me picking on your daddy, huh?” He wrapped an arm around her middle, hauling Jules to her feet. “What’re you gonna do ’bout it?”
Jules curled herself into a ball, making herself at least twice as heavy, but she was nothing under Grandpa Charlie’s strength. He tossed her over his shoulder the same as he’d done with Wyatt, while she kicked and made those same high-pitched screeches of hilarity that could only come from a girl.
“Did you really tell your daddy you were trying to get gunk off your teeth?”
“Yes,” Jules confessed in a peal of giggles. “But it was
the truth
.”
“Girl, you might as well be a lawyer instead of a cop, ’cause I ain’t heard someone spin a tale like you can. What bullshit. You got your daddy totally hosed.”
“Dad, come on. Don’t be teaching ’em to swear.”
“Ah, hell, Freddy, a little swearing don’t hurt no one. You got to lighten up.”
“He’s a grouch,” Wyatt added bravely, looking boldly at his father when he stepped off the bottom step freshly showered and dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. “Everyone knows it.”
His father narrowed his eyes. “Who you calling a grouch, boy?”
Wyatt tried to mimic his icy stare, but he cracked and started laughing. “I’m calling
you
one.”
He saw his father move, and he turned to run, but he wasn’t fast enough. His father actually dived for Wyatt, like the former linebacker he was. When his father caught his ankle, Wyatt hit the floor with a thump, but he was laughing so hard he didn’t feel it.
Then Wyatt found himself completely upside down, being held by his ankles while all the blood rushed to his head and his flannel nightshirt completely covered his eyes.
“What was that you were saying?” his father asked, now laughing as hard as the rest of them.
“Freddy, that boy just ate. He’s gonna end up puking on your shoes.”
Wyatt’s shoulders shook with mirth, but he managed to choke out, “T-that ain’t a l-lie.”
“Do it!” Jules said encouragingly from somewhere.
“Pass, ’cause y’all know I’m the one who is gonna be cleaning it. Grandpa doesn’t do puke.”
His father put him back on the ground, and Wyatt lay on his back, laughing for a long time. Then he rolled back and sprang to his feet in a move he thought was extremely impressive if he did say so himself.
“Boy, you are the biggest show-off I ever did see,” his father confirmed. “I surely don’t know where you got all that ego from, ’cause it ain’t from me, and your mama was humble as can be.”
“That’d be me,” Grandpa Charlie said proudly. “I was all cock and balls when I was a kid and a lot longer after that if we’re being honest.”
“Christ, Dad. Sometimes I just give up.” Their father patted Wyatt on the shoulder. “Time for bed. You got school tomorrow.”
“Ah, man.”
“Come on.” His father leaned down, letting Wyatt hop on his back. Which he did without hesitation. He stood with Wyatt on his back and walked toward the stairs. “We got to let Grandpa get ready for work anyway.”
“I ain’t finished with their lunches,” Grandpa Charlie said, and Wyatt turned to see him carrying Jules on his back up the stairs behind them.
“I got it.” His father stopped on the top step and waited for Grandpa and Jules to make it up behind them. Then he leaned in and kissed Jules’s cheek. “Night, princess.”
Jules beamed. “Night, Daddy.”
“I heard you defending me. You know how to take down the bad guys. That’s my girl.” Wyatt could see their father’s smile even from behind; that’s how big it was. “I love you, baby.”
“Night, Grandpa,” Wyatt said as he rolled his eyes behind his father’s back at the two of them, knowing he’d get the joke. Jules really did have their dad hosed. “See you after school tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you go have sweet dreams ’bout that McMillen girl.”
“Tabitha,” Jules offered helpfully.
His father craned his neck, a frown marring his forehead. “What’s this?”
“Nothing.” Wyatt gave his grandpa a look of pleading.
“Don’t sound like nothing.”
“I got a town to sheriff,” Grandpa Charlie complained, properly distracting him. “Now are you gonna help me put these twins in bed or what?”
“I guess.”
Wyatt did the usual “brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed” routine. He had his own bathroom, thank God, so it didn’t take him long to get it all done and hop into bed. His dad was still in his room, picking up his discarded football uniform and then tucking it under his arm to be washed.
“You got karate after football tomorrow. Where’s your gi?”
“Hanging up.” Wyatt yawned and stretched out under the covers. “I washed it myself.”
His father paused in picking up and turned to look at him in concern. “You did?”
“Jules helped me.”
“She did?” This didn’t seem to offer any comfort.
“We wanted to make sure our new belts were clean.”
He turned to go to the closet and groaned out loud. “Ah, heck, Wy. You dyed it purple. Is Jules’s purple too?”
Wyatt shrugged, not sure what the right answer was. Jules’s gi might have been a little purplish, but he wasn’t going to be the one to break the news now that he found out it was an issue.
“What the hell. Ain’t worth crying over.” His father pulled it out of the closet and tucked it under his arm with the football uniform. “I guess that’s what bleach is for.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to swear,” Wyatt mused, hoping to take the heat off himself. “You’re always saying—”
“With Grandpa Charlie around, I reckon I already lost that battle.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss Wyatt on the head. “Have nice dreams.”
Wyatt yawned again. “You too.”
“Love you.” He ruffled Wyatt’s hair.
Wyatt rolled over in bed and tucked his hand under the pillow. “Love you too.”
Chapter Six
Late November 1986
Tabitha didn’t care what Clay said; Wyatt Conner was a nice kid.
He gave them cookies every single school day clear into the start of winter. Well, he gave Tabitha cookies, and she shared them with Clay, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The fact was even on the nights when they couldn’t find anything to hold them over until breakfast at school the next morning, they still had cookies, and she’d been diligent at hiding them from Brett.
“We won our last game.”
Tabitha turned and gave Wyatt an encouraging smile. “Congratulations.”
“You could come to one next week if you wanted. It’s a home game. Just over at Garnet Park. They have a guy who sells hotdogs and sodas. It’s pretty fun. Jules goes, and lots of other girls go too. We even have cheerleaders.”
“I don’t have a ride.” Tabitha gave him an apologetic smile. “And my bike’s broke.”
“Oh.” Wyatt looked crestfallen for about two seconds before he turned to her and said, “My grandpa could pick ya up.”
Clay snorted, but Tabitha did a better job at hiding how ridiculous that suggestion was. “I don’t think my mama would like that.”
“We don’t ride with cops, piglet,” Clay clarified in case Wyatt missed the point.
Wyatt frowned and for once didn’t have a response.
“I’m sorry,” Tabitha whispered softly, hoping Clay didn’t hear her as she admitted, “I wish I could go. Sounds like fun.”
“It
is
fun.” Wyatt perked up a little. “Tommy’s a good quarterback, but ya know a quarterback’s only as good as the defense backing him up. That’s what the coach says, and I’m a darn good linebacker, just like my dad.”
“I don’t know what a linebacker does,” Tabitha admitted with a wince.
“Oh yeah, lemme tell you. See, a linebacker—”
Clay cut him off with a long groan. “Even cookies ain’t gonna be worth this. He’ll never stop yammering.”