Background
Miranda Jessup Buckley is back and trying to figure out what happened to Dougie Wilcox.
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So far, Miranda has been finding empty beer bottles in odd places. They are the rare brand that Dougie Wilcox used to drink. It has her wondering if Missy is messing with her from prison. Then Rita gives her a call to tell her how Matt is hiring a high schooler to help out at the store. Miranda decides to pay him a visit.
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The look of concern on Matt's face does little to slow my procession to the cash register where he stands.
"So, what's, uh, going on?" I ask in a tone that could melt sugar.
He presses his lips together in a tense smile. "Just training our newest employee." He looks quickly over at the kid. "Miranda, this is Preston. He's going to be working a couple nights a week."
I look over at Preston. He looks familiar but I see people all day, every day. Then when he smiles it clicks. "Gatorade boy," I say.
He grins.
"I'm used to seeing you all sweaty."
Matt let's go a huge breath and smiles. "So you know him already? Good."
I direct my gaze back to Matt. "Matt, can I talk to you in the office? Please."
"I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"Matt, I said please. And, if please doesn't work, I'm sure I can find another word to use to help you understand how important it is that I talk to you."
Reluctantly, Matt nods. "Preston, look around the store, get to know what we carry. I'll be back in a second."
I throw open his office door and step aside so he can enter first. He winces as I close the door.
"Miranda, I know what your going to say."
"Do you, Matt? That's good. Cause I don't even know what I'm gonna say. No, wait, it's coming to me ... what the hell?"
"I'm not gonna have you closing up alone anymore."
"I don't need a babysitter."
He sits down in his worn office chair. "I think maybe you do."
"Put him on my days off. Or with Rita on Saturdays. I'm perfectly capable of working solo."
"He's staying."
"No. I'm not gonna work with some high school kid. For the love of God, do you know how annoying teenage boys are?"
"Come on, he goes to church on Sundays, he's an athlete. He's got one friend here in Patterson."
"And you think it's a good idea to expose him to me?" I laugh.
"Miranda, you can either accept this or find something else."
I look around the office. My jaw is tight and I feel that little nerve around my eyebrow starting to twitch. "If at the end of the first week, I don't like him, he's gone."
Matt shakes his head. "Earth to Miranda, I'm the boss. You work for me. If he gets canned, it's because I fire him. You get no say."
I walk out of the office, say a quick goodbye to Gatorade boy and storm across the parking lot to my car.
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Waylon eats his burger, fries and three quarters of my fries. Within fifteen minutes he's scouring the cabinets in the kitchen looking for something else to eat.
"Do you have a tape worm or something?" I ask, amazed that he could still be hungry.
"We got anything sweet in this house?" He stands on his tiptoes to peer into the spice cabinet.
"Just me, sugar."
Waylon glances over, a look of disgust on his face. He turns back to continue his search.
"There's yogurt in the fridge," I say. "If you're desperate enough to look through the spice rack, you might settle for yogurt."
"Next time you go to the store can you get some cookies or something?"
"Okay."
Waylon closes the cabinet and peeks out the window over the sink. "Holy shit," he says, causing me to jump. "Aaron's here."
He all but trips over himself trying to get to the front door. Of course, I'm hot on his heels.
Waylon clears the porch steps and runs over to where Aaron is.
He looks so different yet exactly the same. His long scraggly hair has been trimmed, the Goodwill clothing ensemble been replaced by khakis and an Oxford shirt but his smile is still one hundred percent Aaron Earl.
He hugs Waylon then looks over at me. "Hey, Miranda. Been a while. You still dating that cop?"
"Yes. Still dating that cop. You still studying to be a preacher?"
Aaron smiles, holds up his forefinger and nods towards his trailer. "You mind if I come over for a few minutes? Need to run inside for a second. Got some things I want to run by y'all."
I always find it amazing that he wants to come to my dinky little trailer instead of us coming to his palatial one. But, he swears mine feels more like home. "Just come on in. Don't bother to knock." I turn and head back to my place. "Waylon, come on. He needs to take care of a couple things."
Fifteen minutes later, Aaron, clad in his beat up jeans, his old work shirt and barefoot pushes open the door.
"Well, Preacher man. How are things going?"
"I dropped out, so you tell me." Aaron looks away.
"How did God take the news?" I ask. I really can't tell if Aaron is happy or upset. I push one of the kitchen chairs out and he sits.
"Honestly, I think He's relieved."
"What happened?"
Aaron sits, shrugging. "No one thing really. I just assumed I'd feel joy studying about God. But I couldn't remember important verses. Heck, I couldn't recite the Lord's prayer with out a cheat sheet. I thought it would be more about loving thy neighbor and less about learning thy verses."
I look over at my very unique, hippie, man-child, heart of a poet, Hallmark philosopher neighbor. He sits back in the chair and smiles at Waylon first then turns it on me.
"Guess my dad was right. He said I'd quit before I finished it."
I want to tell him his dad is a jerk, but I can't. To be honest, I thought exactly the same thing.
