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Lousiana Hotshot

Lousiana Hotshot

Titel: Lousiana Hotshot Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Julie Smith
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her a smile that was just on the edge of goofy— the scotch was doing its work. “I guess we still think you’re the baby girl.”
    “So you’re trying to protect me?”
    He gave her one of those tiny neck shrugs that are meant to be self-deprecating, but, to Talba’s mind, often signal a guilty conscience. “Kind of silly, isn’t it?”
    “Corey, it just doesn’t fly. I never even knew the man. How’s it going to hurt me to know he’s dead?”
    Corey gulped down a big swallow. “Miz Clara’s proud; she didn’t want you to know.”
    “To know what? The way he died?”
    He was silent.
    “What happened? Jealous husband shoot him? Something like that?”
    He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Something like that.”
    “Well, what, Corey? Tell me the story. You can’t just leave me with one little shred of it. Listen, you want to know something really, really weird? I have this feeling. I’ve got this feeling I know a whole lot about it— I’ve just forgotten it.”
    “Oh, Sandra, hell! He died of an overdose, okay? Yeah, you’ve got memories— but you just remember the funeral, that’s all. That’s why you cried when you went in that church— it’s that simple. But know one thing, girl, and know it well— if Mama finds out I told you any of this, she’s going to kill me. I wasn’t even old enough to know what I was saying, and she made me promise I’d never talk about it with you. You know how hard it is to go back on a promise to Mama?”
    She thought that once, a long time ago, she might have seen him wear a look of anguish like the one he had on at the moment, but she couldn’t place the time. She could only place the feeling, and it was desolation. She touched him, something she seldom did. “Oh, Corey, I’m sorry. I had to know.”
    He nodded, once again looking at the wall. “I know you did.”
    “Mama’s some lady, isn’t she? Trying to keep something like that a secret. Half the daddies in our neighborhood probably died of overdoses.”
    “A bit of an exaggeration.”
    “It’s not exactly stigmatizing. That’s what I’m getting at.”
    “Mama’s old-fashioned.”
    “Yeah, but something’s wrong here. Mama doesn’t lie. Now, let me think about this.” Miz Clara had some kind of pact with herself— with Jesus, she might have said. She might dance around the truth, but she’d never tell an outright lie.
    “She tell you he wasn’t dead?”
    “Let me think. No, not exactly. She said something like, ‘wish to God he was.’”
    He snorted. “See? That’s Miz Clara.”
    “I don’t know. This sure seems like a stupid thing to keep secret.”
    For once, he did look at her. “I agree. I agree with you. But do me a favor— please save my behind and don’t tell Miz Clara we talked about any of it. Promise?”
    “I don’t know.” She was dead against it.
    Corey looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, you know that? Michelle’s going to kill me. Hey, listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” His mood had lightened— he seemed almost happy, almost normal, as opposed to the Type-A Corey she was so used to.
    “Okay. Sure.”
    “I was kind of wondering— how come Michelle and I have never met your beau?”
    “My beau?” She was taken aback.
    “Darryl.”
    “Oh, yeah, I know who you mean. I just thought—”
    He chuckled. “Quaint usage, huh?”
    “I’d say so.” She couldn’t help laughing as well— Corey was actually making fun of himself, an unprecedented occurrence.
    “How come you haven’t introduced us?”
    “That’s funny— I really don’t know. I guess the time hasn’t been right.” In truth, it had never occurred to her to introduce Darryl to Corey and Michelle. She preferred to tell him amusing stories about her stuck-up, pompous ass of a brother and his BAP of a wife.
    “How about we make a date?”
    “Oh. Okay. Sure.”
    “You don’t seem that enthusiastic.”
    “No, really. Let’s do it. How about Saturday?”
    He frowned. “Umm. No go— already booked. Tomorrow’s good, though. How about tomorrow?”
    “If Darryl’s free, you’ve got a deal. How about something simple? Sid-Marr’s, maybe.”
    “Oh, no. Hell, no. We don’t go out that often. We’ll take you to Brigtsen’s.”
    “Who could say no to that?” And yet, she kind of wished she could; kind of, but not really. She also kind of liked the idea.
    But, driving home, she felt disoriented— the dad thing, the Darryl thing, the baby

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