“You two are really cute together,” I chimed in with a grin. Sometimes you just had to stir the pot.
“See, C? We’re good together.”
Charlotte elbowed him in the side and swigged her beer. I knew he thought she was just being flirty because he smiled and patted her knee like Calvin had done with me. He probably thought he saw a spark reignite between them. I knew there was nothing flirtatious about it. It was a spark . . . a spark of violence. Charlotte didn’t want to flirt with Wyatt. She wanted to hurt him. I wondered what exactly had gone wrong between them. Wyatt seemed like a nice enough guy, a little rough around the edges, but I’d expect that from a country boy. Perhaps nothing went wrong between them. Perhaps something went right between her and someone else.
“Why did you two break up?” I asked, deciding to continue to poke the bear named Charlotte.
“I don’t know.” Wyatt shook his head. “One day we were good and the next she was breaking it off.”
“We were not good together,” she spit.
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “We were.”
Betty let out a yell. “The bees are so agitated!” Her voice was panicked.
Calvin stood quickly and helped her out of her beekeeping hat, gloves, and suit.
I noticed red splotches on her hands and neck. The bees had made their way inside her suit. It’s ironic how the ones you care for most are the ones that are most easily able to crawl inside you and do damage.
“What happened?” Calvin asked.
“It seems like they had been messed with. They were buzzing all around, trying to sting me, and they ain’t usually like that.”
“Betty, they’re bees. They’re not trained. What do you expect?” Joe crumpled up his face and flipped a burger patty on the grill.
Betty scratched at her neck and shot him a glare, but quickly softened it. “You wouldn’t understand, Joe. Your dog doesn’t even know its own name.”
Joe shook his head and chuckled, turning over the brats.
Charlotte set her beer down and stood. “Let me help you apply something to those stings.”
Betty nodded, and Charlotte helped her into the house, closing the sliding door behind them.
“What’s with Betty?” Joe asked.
Calvin put his thumbs in the loops of his jeans like he usually did when he was apprehensive or didn’t know what to say. I had only known him for six days, and I had already picked up on that little tell of his. He would never do well in poker. Too many tells.
“Don’t go saying this to anyone else.” He lowered his voice. “But when I took Grace to Dr. Reed after she fell off the horse, he mentioned Betty hadn’t refilled her prescription in two months.”
Joe’s eyes went wide. “Have you talked to her?”
“Of course not. Dr. Reed shouldn’t have told me that in the first place. He could lose his license to practice.” Calvin rubbed his forehead.
“Chicks be crazy, am I right?” Wyatt said, swigging his beer.
Calvin rolled his eyes.
Joe shrugged. “This is a small town. Who really has a license around here?”
“I would hope a doctor would. Dr. Reed removed my appendix.” Calvin gave a look of dismay.
“Yeah, and you’ve never been able to do a full sit-up ever since.” Wyatt let out a laugh.
Calvin rolled his eyes and flicked a hand at him. “Everyone knows crunches are more effective.”
“Says the guy with a four—pack.”
Joe shuffled to the side and peered in through the patio door before settling back into place. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll say something to her, but not today.”
Joe shook his head and straightened up, flipping a burger again. “Grace, you like . . . meat?” he asked just as the sliding door opened. Betty emerged, followed by Charlotte. It was clear he had intended to ask something else but quickly changed the subject.
“How ya feeling?” Calvin asked.
Betty’s neck and hands were covered in red splotches. There was a slight jelly glisten over each mark where Charlotte had rubbed Neosporin. It felt like this whole town had Neosporin rubbed over it—something to conceal it, make it feel better, look better—but beneath the jelly glisten, there was irritation, pain, maybe even venom.
“Yeah, much better, darling.” Betty’s eyes bounced over all of us like a pinball in an arcade.
“Hello,” a voice called from around the corner.
Calvin, Wyatt, and Joe all yelled, “Hello.” Dr. Reed rounded the side of the house, carrying a large package covered in white butcher paper. Patsy, his secretary, walked beside him holding a bottle of sauvignon blanc.
“Whatcha got there, Doc?” asked Calvin.
“A dozen New York strip steaks. Happy birthday,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks, Doc. You didn’t have to do that.”
Dr. Reed patted him on the back. “I don’t have to do anything, doesn’t mean I won’t.” He then greeted each of us.
“Nice to see you,” I said when his eyes landed on me.
Dr. Reed closed the distance and gave me a half hug, eyeing me in a doctorly way. “You feeling all right?”
“Perfectly new, thanks to you.” I nodded and smiled at him.
“And Calvin took good care of you?”
“Only second to you.”
He smiled back and glanced over at the boys. “Calvin, you didn’t tell me my favorite patient would be here.” Dr. Reed put an arm around me.
“Damn, Doc. I thought we were close.” Joe dramatically grabbed at his chest.
“Oh, we are . . . a little too close.” Dr. Reed’s eyes widened and then he let out a hefty chuckle.
“Ha ha.” Joe uncapped a beer and handed it to the doc.
Dr. Reed took a swig and his eyes found Betty. “Oh no, what happened to you?”
She shook her head and looked at her blotchy hands. “Bees got me. Not like them at all.”
Dr. Reed gave her a concerned look. “You put something on them?” He was clearly worried about her well-being, and it went beyond the bee stings.
“Of course,” she said.
He pulled her off to the side and they continued a whispered conversation. The boys bantered back and forth while Charlotte looked on.
I moseyed over to Patsy who was still holding that bottle of wine.
“You look much better than the last time I seen you,” she said.
“Thanks.” I smiled. “Would you like me to open that?”
“Oh yes, please. Dr. Reed picked this up for me.” Her grin widened. “He’s so good to me.”
“He seems to be good to everyone.”
“He takes care of this whole town. Without him, we’d all be dead,” she chuckled.
I gave a small awkward smile and told her I’d be right back.
I spotted a wineglass on the top shelf of one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Standing on my tippy toes, I reached up, barely grasping it with my fingertips. The glass slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a crash, shattering into pieces.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Shit.”
“Don’t you hate when things like that happen in places you don’t belong?” Charlotte’s voice was like a knife being dragged along concrete.