I Want Candy

  He had to eat fast, so ordered the soup and sandwich combo. He had a lead about Gerrall being spotted in Winston, a town about five miles away, and he thought he’d drive out to have a look-see. When he got up a few minutes later to pay his check, Turner felt a few sets of unfriendly eyes on him. With a smile, he acknowledged the glares of Ed Hamilton, Haywood Buckston, and Junior Schneider, three good ole boys long retired from the county public works department.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, nodding in their direction.

  Only Junior responded to the greeting. “Sheriff,” he said.

  With a sigh, Turner decided he should defuse the situation. The diner was plenty crowded and the last thing he wanted to do was appear guilty about his relationship with Candy. He wasn’t and never would be. And besides, everyone in town already knew about them.

  Turner strolled over to the booth where the three old men were finishing their lunches, aware that every eye in the place was on him. “How ya’ll been?” he asked.

  “Good enough,” Junior said.

  “I heard they’re going to have to rip out the Pigeon Creek bridge out past Highway 25. Now, weren’t ya’ll on the crew that built it back in the sixties?”

  “Hell, yes, we were!” Haywood said. “And there ain’t a damn thing wrong with it, either. Just a bunch of bureaucratic horse manure if you ask me, saying bridges gotta be replaced every so many years.”

  “Hmph,” Ed said. “The ’75 flood banged it up pretty good, though. It had to be shored up. I say it probably needs to be replaced.”

  “Well, you can’t be too safe when it comes to bridges,” Turner said.

  “Now that’s true,” Junior agreed.

  “Looks like you’re getting pretty friendly with Jonesy Carmichael’s girl these days.”

  Turner was grateful for Ed’s abrupt redirection of the conversation—he had a limited amount of time built into his day for bullshit. “Candy is a wonderful woman, Ed. We’ve been friends all our lives, you know, so it was wonderful to reconnect after all these years.”

  “Hmph,” Ed said.

  “How long’s Junie been gone now?” Haywood asked.

  “Four years in May.”

  “Long time,” Junior said. “God rest her soul.”

  “Thank you, Junior,” Turner said.

  “Hmph,” was Ed’s contribution again. “My Rowena’s been gone seven years now.”

  “Well, all I got to say is it’s a damn good thing Jonesy ain’t around,” Junior said, nodding with the gravity of his statement. “He wouldn’t be none too happy.”

  Turner made sure his smile was in place and answered with a friendly lilt in his voice. “Our families and friends are supportive and happy for us, which is a blessing. Now ya’ll have a good day. Enjoy this beautiful weather we’re having.”

  “You, too, Sheriff,” Ed said.

  “Take care now,” Junior said.

  By the time Turner got to the cash register, whatever tension had been present in the diner had dissipated. He handed Candy his money and winked at her.

  “Smooth talker,” she whispered.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”

  Chapter 19

  “You know I don’t usually do this,” Lenny said as he escorted Cheri back into the prep kitchen. Candy wiped her hands on her apron in surprise as Cheri waved to her. “This here space is sacred,” Lenny was telling Cheri. “It’s where all the magic happens.”

  Cheri smiled and nodded. “I know that’s true. I’ve been eating your magic since I was a toddler, remember.”

  Lenny laughed, shaking his head. “You girls are cruel! You never miss a chance to remind me that I’m old as Methuselah and just about as good-lookin’. Ya’ll have a nice visit, now,” he said, heading to the back.

  Candy leaned her butt against the steel counter. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Oh, please,” Cheri said, hooking her purse strap on a cabinet knob and pulling up an old metal stool. “I came by to tell you we’re going to have our engagement party Saturday afternoon and I wanted to make sure you can still do cupcakes.”

  “Of course!” Candy said that with a smile, but she was not yet sure she was safe. This could be a trap, since she’d been sure Cheri showed up not to talk about cupcakes but to pump her for details on what was going on with Turner. That was a subject Candy would rather not get into due to the simple fact that there would be no way to discuss it without sounding reckless, wanton, and just plain bad mannered. After all, what kind of woman starts something so beautiful and amazing with a man she intends to leave?

  A depraved woman. A woman without a lick of decency. That’s who.

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” Candy grabbed notebook and pencil from the countertop. “Do you have a color scheme or a decorating theme?”

  Cheri chuckled. “Sure. Our colors are lake blue and grass green and our decorating theme is summer at Newberry Lake.”

  Candy pursed her lips and let the notebook drop against her thigh. “Sounds like you’re going all out.”

  Cheri laughed again. “Oh, you know how J.J. and I feel about all the wedding pomp and circumstance. We’re doing it mostly so we can say we had an engagement party, so Viv will stop pestering us.”

  “Hmm. So what kind of cupcakes did you have in mind and how many should I plan on?”

  “I was thinking both chocolate and white, with both kinds of icing, and the confetti kind of sprinkles on top.”

  “That sounds simple enough.”

  “About two hundred should do it—in case people want more than one.”

  Candy immediately began her mental calculations—how much flour, sugar, and butter she would need and how much baking and decorating time she’d have to build into the schedule. “No problem,” she said.

  Cheri smiled at her. “Hey, did you hear the hot gossip?”

  “No.” Candy crossed her arms over her chest, wary of where this was going.

  Cheri wiggled her eyebrows. “Tater Wayne up and went missing for a couple weeks, and he called Viv to tell her he’d have to get to her chores at some other time—when he gets back to town!”

  Candy was shocked. Tater was the quintessential Bigler boy, a guy who’d barely graduated from high school, who thought haircuts given by a licensed barber and dental care were for sissies, and who’d been plagued his whole life by an eyeball that wouldn’t sit still. He was the nicest guy in the world—he’d give you the shirt off his back if you could stand the smell—but Tater had never been known to travel. Anywhere. Like anywhere outside Cataloochee County.

  “Where did he go?” Candy asked.

  “That’s the thing—nobody knows,” Cheri said. “And since his barbecue wagon is key to the engagement party, we had to be sure he’d be back here in time. That’s why we just now have a date.”

  Candy wasn’t falling for it. Cheri was being far too chatty this morning. There was something else going on.

  “And there’s something else,” Cheri said.

  I knew it! Candy busied herself by checking the cakes in the oven. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Tanyalee is supposed to be coming home over the weekend.”

  Candy spun around, stood up straight, and blinked a few times. “Just in time for the engagement party.”

  Cheri shook her head slowly. “We’ll have to see about that. Emily Post doesn’t have much to say about situations like this one—‘does one invite the groom’s nutso ex-wife to the engagement party if she happens to be the bride’s sister?’”

  Candy scrunched up her mouth and nose. “Sounds a little risky.”

  “Yeah, but maybe she’s … you know … recovered.”

  “Hey,” Candy offered, “stranger things have happened.”

  “Okay. I guess I should be going.” Cheri hopped off the stool, grabbed her purse, and hung the strap on her shoulder. She went over to Candy and gave her a tight hug.

  “You doing okay?” she asked, her voice pleasant.

&nbs
p; “Oh, sure.”

  “Good.”

  Her best friend turned to leave. Candy was about to release the breath she’d been holding for the last several minutes when Cheri whipped around and shouted, “You weren’t even going to tell me? What are you—freakin’ crazy?”

  Candy’s mouth fell open.

  “You’re living with Turner!”

  “Shh,” Candy said, rushing to Cheri and steadying her by the upper arms. “Keep your voice down, please.”

  “Why?” Cheri asked. “So Lenny doesn’t find out? He already knows! Candy, I got news for you—everyone knows!”

  “Oh, jeez.”

  “Uh-huh. I heard it from J.J. first, followed promptly by Gladys, then Viv, and then Granddaddy Garland, who heard it from Turner’s mother. And then I got a call from Tater Wayne asking if it were true.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah. He called long distance. He also asked if your car was running all right.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “So you weren’t going to mention this to me? Really?”

  “I swear I was. I just—”

  “I’m so mad I could chew up nails and spit out a barbed-wire fence!”

  Candy huffed in frustration and backed away from Cheri. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “The truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Cheri. I plan to leave Bigler. I have nothing holding me here. But at the same time, I’m having all these feelings for Turner. He took off his wedding ring. He makes me … I’m thinking maybe … he makes me want to—”

  “You slept with him.”

  Candy nodded. “Last night. And this morning. It was like we couldn’t wait any longer, like we were both tortured being in the same house and not … you know…”

  “Oh, shee-it,” Cheri said, running a hand through her stylish cut and spinning around on her boot heels. “How is Turner doing with all this?”

  Candy laughed. “What kind of question is that? He’s doing great. Better than great. He’s amazing. He’s incredible. He’s the most—” Candy stopped herself when it became apparent that wasn’t exactly what her friend was asking. “Uh, if you mean doing emotionally—how he’s doing being with someone for the first time since Junie died—I’d have to say he’s doing pretty well.”

  “Okay.” Cheri frowned and fiddled with her purse strap. “It’s just that—”

  “I know,” Candy said, cutting her off. “You don’t want to see Turner hurt. Nobody does, especially me. That’s why I’ve been completely up front with him about my plans. He knows I intend to leave town as soon as my time here at Lenny’s is done.”

  Cheri laughed. “You make it sound like a prison sentence. Is Bigler really that bad?”

  Candy didn’t want to have to go there, but it seemed she had no choice. She sighed. “Yeah, Cheri, it’s that bad—for me. Not you. It’s perfect for you—you’re in love with a wonderful man. You have a home filled with memories and a job that means something and a family that adores you and is proud of you. Bigler is great if you’re Cheri Newberry. If you’re Candy Carmichael? Not so much.”

  “Oh, Candy.” Cheri took a step closer to her but Candy shook her head.

  “I’m going to be okay. Like you said just a few weeks ago, I always land on my feet and I will this time. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t plan to stay at Turner’s house for long. One more paycheck and I should be able to swing a deposit and first month’s rent somewhere.”

  Cheri let go with a bitter laugh. “That’s the stupidest damn thing I’ve ever heard,” she said. “You’re going to spend all that money just to live somewhere for a little over a month? And then you’re gonna pack up and go?”

  “I don’t want to mooch off my friends.”

  Cheri shook her head and gave Candy a shriveling look. “You don’t get it, do you, girl? People love you, you ninny. J.J. and I have offered for you to stay with us because we love you. Turner offered because he loves you. Viv, too. And even Jacinta. Do you think she would have taken you in over there if she didn’t love you?”

  Candy shrugged. “I really need to get these cakes out of the oven.”

  “You know what, Candace Carmichael? You need to open your damn eyes.” Cheri put her hands on her hips and glared. “You’re supposed to be the queen of seeing possibilities where other people see nothing but problems, right? Well, maybe it’s time you used that skill with your own life.”

  Cheri turned and reached for the door, but she looked over her shoulder while making her dramatic exit. “You know why I get to say that to you?”

  Candy huffed in impatience. “Why?”

  “Because I love you. And you’re going to listen because you love me, too.”

  She slammed the door.

  A little while later, while the cakes cooled, Candy went out to the front of the diner to finish her daily cleanup. She was sorting silverware when the bell jangled and the diner door opened.

  Gerrall Spivey walked in. He looked like hell.

  “Gerrall?” Candy dropped the forks and stared. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asked herself which emotion had the upper hand at that particular moment—the guilt she felt for getting him fired or the anger she felt at how he’d been spreading lies about her. She decided it was a draw.

  His face seemed strangely vacant. “Can I get a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. Of course.” Candy gestured for him to have a seat and turned her back to him to pour him a cup. “Cream or sugar?”

  “You know what I like.”

  Candy froze. There it was again—that vaguely threatening tone he’d used with her from the very first time they met. It reeked of entitlement, an intimacy that didn’t actually exist. Now, suddenly, it made sense to her. After what Jacinta told her about the photo in his phone and the lies he was telling people, she realized that Gerrall lived in some kind of fantasy world. Now was the time to set him straight.

  “I would have no way of knowing what you take in your coffee, Gerrall.” Candy set his cup and saucer down in front of him along with the sugar and cream. “I’m sorry for what happened at Cherokee Pines.”

  “Really?” He stared at the spoon as he twirled it around in his hot coffee. He made no move to take a sip.

  “Of course,” Candy said, going back to sorting silverware. She discreetly checked to make sure she could see Lenny in the kitchen. He was out of the line of sight, which left her feeling a little uncomfortable. “Have you started looking for another job?”

  Gerrall produced a nasty laugh and glanced up at her. His pale eyes looked a little wild and his smile was more of a snarl. “You’ve really disappointed me, Candy. I thought we had an understanding.”

  A cold shiver went up her spine. What if Gerrall was more than just an eccentric nerd who lived in a fantasy world? What if he was a whack job? Or on drugs? And what did it mean if a whack-job junkie was carrying around your photo and telling people you were his girlfriend?

  Not a good thing.

  “Gerrall, look, I heard that you’ve been telling people we’re in a relationship. Please stop. And I don’t know how you got my picture, but I’d appreciate it if you deleted it from your phone.”

  This time when he laughed it was laced with an unnerving disgust. He shook his head. “You’re with Turner Halliday now? Really, Candy? I thought you had higher standards than that.”

  “Everything okay out there?” Lenny poked his head out the serving window and Candy spun around to face him, widening her eyes in a plea for help. He got the message and immediately headed her way.

  Gerrall stood up. “You were supposed to have my back, but don’t worry about it.” He leaned on the counter to finish his sentence before Lenny appeared. “You’re gonna make it up to me, Candy. I’ll be in touch to let you know how.”

  And with that he headed for the exit.

  Candy jumped when Lenny placed his hand on her shoulder. “What was that about?” he asked her.

  “Uh, not sure,” she said, “but he’s r
eally pissed I got him fired.”

  “Yeah, well, stay away from him. That Spivey kid has never been right in the head.”

  She shuddered. Well, at least she had confirmation.

  “Can’t say I blame him, though. With a daddy like his he’s lucky he ain’t in the state pen for murder.”

  Candy looked at Lenny like he was joking. “Come on, now.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m telling you the God’s truth, honey. It’s a miracle that kid ain’t blown his daddy’s brains out with a shotgun. Bobby Ray Spivey deserves it—crazy, ignernt bastard that he is, beating on that kid since he was small. All the Spiveys been crazy, far back as I know.”

  Chapter 20

  Candy pulled through the pretentious circular drive of Cherokee Pines and entered the front door like she had every right to be there, because, as Jacinta had assured her again only moments ago on the cell phone, she did.

  Miller sat at the reception desk. He looked up with a pleasant expression, but the instant he saw it was Candy, his face fell.

  “Hello, Mr. Miller. I’m here to see my mother.”

  “You’ve got some nerve, Miss Carmichael.” A red splotch of rage popped up on his cheeks.

  “Could you let her know I’m here, please?”

  He smirked. “Now why in the world would I do you any favors?”

  Jacinta rounded the corner and without delay smacked Miller right on his bald spot.

  “Ow!” he screamed.

  Candy suppressed a snicker. “Hello, Mother. How did you know I was here?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jacinta reached for Candy’s hand and pulled her down the hall. “I can hear that car coming from miles away.” She smiled at Candy. “I’m glad to see you. It’s been too normal around here since you moved out.”

  “Since I was dragged away in a police car, you mean.”

  Jacinta laughed loudly as she opened the door to her apartment. “You looked like a willing prisoner, if you get my drift.”

  Candy noticed immediately that the coffee table was covered with what looked like legal documents. “Having me deported?”