Page 20 of Somewhere Without You

Nineteen

I navigated the old Ford Focus into the small parking lot outside Hank’s grocery store, grabbing a basket from the metal corral before heading inside.

A wave of nostalgia slammed into me as I scanned the familiar aisles, the faded signage dangling from aluminum rafters under buzzing fluorescent lights.

I kept my gaze forward, doing my best to avoid eye contact as I started tossing random items into the cart. Macaroni and cheese. Bread. A jar of peanut butter. I needed to stretch the cash Katherinehadgivenme, but I also wanted to avoid another trip as long as possible.

Movingquickly, I crossed off items from the crumpled listI’dstuffedin my pocket before leaving the house. Shampoo. Trash Bags. Bottled Water.

OnceIwasdone, I rolled toward the back of the store. Hank’swasthe only place in townthatsold beer and wine—anything stronger meant a trip to Charleston, which Iwasn’tinterestedin making.

I didn’t bother reading the labels as I grabbed three or four bottles of wine, lining them up in the cart before heading for the register.

The cashier, a young woman with fiery red hair held back by a pink headband, scanned my items.

“That’ll be $46.87,”she said, snapping her gum as I pulled out three twenty’s and my ID.“California, huh?”I noddedimpatiently.“Always wanted to go to California,”she added with another pop.

I gave her a tight smile, waiting for her to hand over my change.

“Emily Hart. . . isthatyou?”A thick, syrupy voice cut through the air. I stiffened.“Oh my gosh ,it is. Alabama,lookwhoit is—the infamous Hart girl.”

Georgia Baker, arm-in-arm with her twin sister Alabama, sauntered to the end of the register.

“Ihearda little rumor youwereback in town, but Ijustcouldn’t believe it,”Georgia purred.“Where’s your sister? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you without the other.”

The cashierfinallyhanded over my change. “Katherine couldn’t make it,” I said, turning to face them.

“Couldn’t?Ordidn’t want to?”Georgia chuckled. My hands clenched tighter around the cart handle.“Oh, lighten up,”she sighed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.“I’m only joking.”

Alabama blinked, her brown eyes magnified behind her bottle-thick glasses.“Weheardabout Mae,”she mumbled, likesimplysaying her namewasa sin.“Sorry about your Gran.”

Georgia gave me a pitying smile.“Yes, soverysorry. What a tragedy.”

Something in her tone said shewasn’tsorry at all.

“Thanks,”I said, trying to squeeze past them, but Georgia stepped in front of me, blocking the way.

“Ifit makes youfeelany better, we host a prayer group on Thursday nights over at the church,”she said, her voice dripping with sugar.“We’dlove to add your Gran to our prayers. Youcouldcome too, ifyou’dlike.”

Now itwasmy turn to choke back a laugh. Gran hated church—and made no secret of it. She used to say religionwasthe most successful cult the worldhadeverknown.

“I appreciate the thought, but Gran’s dead. I don’t think she’s in much need of prayer anymore.”

Georgia’s bright expression faltered.“Well, Emily,thatmay be true—buteventhedearlydeparted can still use a few prayers.”Her gaze flicked down to the bottles of wine in my cart.“Some more than others, itseems.”

Of all the people Icould’ve run into, why did it have to be the Baker twins? Their dadwasthe town preacher, all fire and brimstone. Their mother, a beloved Sunday school teacher, loved Jesus in public, but in private she worshipped other spirits—namelyJack and Jim.

Alabama adjusted her glasses.“In caseyou change your mind,”she said, offering me a white pamphlet with a little black cross on the front.

I took it—not because I wanted to, but because Idesperatelyneeded this encounter to be over.

“Well, thishasbeen a lovely surprise, but Allie and I need togetgoing. We’re in charge of this year’s church potluck andthere’s still so much to do.” Georgia looped her arm through her sister’s. “Itwasreallygreatseeing you, Emily. We should catch up again soon.”

I stood still, watching as they disappeared through the first set of doors and out of sight.Oncetheyweregone, I stepped into the breezeway, slipping my buggy into place with the others. I gathered my bags, looping them over my armcarefully, when IheardAlabama’s voice drift in from outside.

“Do you think she’ll come?”she asked, her voice quiet and unsure.

I stood rooted to the spot. I didn’t want to listen, but I didn’t want them toseeme either.

“Of course she won’t,”Georgie replied.

“Thenwhy’d you invite her?”

“BecauseIwasbeing polite,”Georgia bit out, irritated.“I swear Allie, sometimes I wonder if the Lord forgot to give you a lick of sense, or if I’m the one being punished for it.”

“Daddy always says—”

“Daddy would invite the devil himself to supper if he thought it’dgethim somewhere,” Georgia said with a snort.

“Honestly, it’s a blessingthatold woman’s gone.

Thatfamily’s never brought anything but trouble.

Iheardfrom Ruth, down at Betty’s Salon,thatKatherine ran off to California, andthenEmily followed her outthere, only to wind up married to one of the richest men in the country. ”

Alabama cleared her throat.“Ifshe’s so rich, what’s she doing living back atthatrun-down farmhouse?”

Georgia gave a shrug.“Beats me.ButI didn’tseea ring on her finger, did you?”

“I wasn’t really look—”

“Oh shut up, Allie,” Georgia snapped, her voice sharpening. “Something’s off aboutthatwhole situation, andI’m gonna find out what.”