It took her several seconds to recall his question. “No plan. I mean, you might think I have a plan, but I don’t. I just made a business proposal to you, but it wasn’t a plan.” Even to Charmaine, that sounded weird.
“Aaaah, so we’re back to the dude ranch nonsense.”
“It is not nonsense.” Charmaine inhaled and exhaled several times to dampen her temper. She hadn’t come here to argue with the lout.
She noticed that Rusty, despite his best intentions, was watching intently as she inhaled and exhaled.
Good!
But there was a look of disgust on his face.
Not good!
Was he disgusted with her or with himself?
Whatever.
“Look, let me tell you all of it. Then I’ll be out of your way. My mother is doing a nude pictorial for some magazine about overaged sex goddesses. Problem is, she has cellulite, and her boyfriend is going to help her get rid of it. In two weeks. Here at the ranch, or till I kick her out… or you kick her out. Plus, Tante Lulu thinks she has cellulite, too.”
His jaw dropped with shock.
“I was as shocked as you are.”
“That Tante Lulu has cellulite?”
“Of course not. I’m talking about Fleur. Believe me, I didn’t invite her. Tante Lulu did. For Thanksgiving. But you can’t really blame her. She didn’t know what my mother was up to. The minute my mother told me all this, I knew… I just knew… you would think it was part of some plan of mine to turn this into a dude ranch/health spa/exercise club.”
At the end of her rambling explanation, Rusty’s jaw still hung open with shock.
“Don’t worry, though. I won’t let her stay two weeks.”
“I hope the hell not,” he said, finally snapping out of his trance.
“You don’t have to yell.” Although I would yell in your circumstance.
“Mon Dieu, Charmaine, how many people has the old lady invited here?”
“I have no idea,” Charmaine murmured. A lot.
“What?” he barked.
“I don’t know for sure. The only other additions to what you already know are Jimmy’s dad, but I doubt he can come since Jimmy told me he’s in Brazil right now on his job, and maybe your mother.”
“WHAT?”
I thought I’d be able to slip that last one in. Guess not. “Settle down. I don’t think she actually called her. She knows how upset you are over the letter business and stuff.”
“Settle down? Upset?” he sputtered. “You and Tante Lulu have got to stop interfering in my life. I mean it. Just know that, if my mother shows up here, I will be leaving. Because if I stay, in the mood I’m in, I may very well kill her. Did I make myself clear?”
As a Bayou Black sky on a cloudless day. “Anyhow, I just thought you ought to know about my mother.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she feared they would overflow. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that. One more humiliation in a week of humiliations! It had taken her almost ten years to build up a good business reputation and down the tubes it went with one bad turn to a loan shark. Humiliating. She’d tried four times to hold a marriage together and failed. Humiliating. Her mother was a stripper and apparently would continue to strip, one way or another, till she dropped dead. Humiliating. Rusty had shown with words and actions that he didn’t want her anywhere near him. Humiliating. Turning quickly, she started to walk away, while her dignity was still intact.
He grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to a halt. “You’re crying,” he accused her. “And you hardly ever cry.”
“I am not crying,” she said, even as a big fat tear slid down her face.
He used the thumb of his other hand to wipe it away, still holding on to her arm to prevent her escape. “Don’t think you can sway me with tears.”
Hmmm. I didn’t think of that. “Who’s trying, you big baboon?”
“Why are you crying?” the big baboon asked.
“Not over you, that’s for sure.”
“It never occurred to me that you would cry over me.”