Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (20 page)

With one foot hovering over the bottom step, she froze at
the sound of Gramps’s voice, loud and close. “I think she went to bed.”

Standing there with only her eyeballs moving, she held her
breath. If the boys knew she was still awake, they’d drag her upstairs kicking
and scratching, plop her in a chair next to her mother, and make her play
another game of Euchre.

The tension between Gramps and Deborah crackled and sparked,
just like old times. Ruby had gone to bed early, claiming a migraine, but Claire
suspected it had more to do with bobbing and weaving Deborah’s
passive-aggressive jabs all evening.

Gramps’s footsteps thumped past the top of the stair and
headed down the hall. The bathroom door slammed shut.

Claire gasped for air. Straining her ears, she heard the
faucet running in the bathroom and made her break. She pushed into Joe’s office
without hitting the lights and shut the door quickly, quietly.

A flashlight beam nailed her in the face.

She flattened against the door with a squeak of surprise. It
took her a handful of seconds to extract her tongue from the back of her
throat.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, and then realized what a
stupid thing that was to ask.

Squinting, her heart still galloping down the backstretch,
she blocked the light with her hand.

“It’s me,” Jess whispered back.

Claire’s peeled herself off the door. “What are you doing
down here?”

The last she’d seen Jess, the girl had been watching Friends
reruns in her bedroom.

“Do you promise not to tell Mom?”

“Only if you remove that damned light from my face.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jess dropped the beam to the tops of her pink
slippers. “I’m looking for my money.”

She should have known. Jess had the determination of a
beaver with a dam to build, especially when it came to money.

Walking over to the desk, she set the library books down. “What
makes you think Ruby would hide it in here?”

“Well … umm … I don’t know. Why wouldn’t she?”

“Think about it, Jess.” Claire dropped into Ruby’s cushy
chair and pulled her own mini-flashlight out of her pocket. “Not only is this
the room where we found the money, but it’s the one room in the house where Gramps
found evidence of the burglar. Don’t you think your mom would be smart enough
to hide the money somewhere less busy?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jess sidled up next to her, sniffing.

“Are you smelling my hair?”

“I’m smelling all of you for skunk. You finally don’t stink
anymore.” She peered over Claire’s shoulder as she flipped open the cover of
History of the Southwest: A Keyhole View. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out how old that mummy hand is.”

“Coolio. How are you going to do that?”

Claire turned to the index. “Find out which cultures used to
bury their dead instead of cremate them.”

“Why are you reading down here in the dark?”

Because it was the only place she had thought she’d find
peace and quiet in the house. “Mom’s in the spare room, the boys are in the rec
room, and I thought you were in your room.” She scanned the “B” page.

Jess leaned closer. “What word are you looking for?”

“Burial.”

“It’s right there.” Jess pointed at the word on the page.

Claire glanced at the girl, who seemed oblivious that she
was about to get her finger bitten off.

“Do you want me to write down the page numbers for you?”

“No, thanks.” Claire flipped to the first page number
listed. “Aren’t you tired? It’s past eleven, and you were up late last night
talking.”

Talking to Claire that was, about everything from how to
tell a boy gecko from a girl gecko to why pink lemonade was her all-time
favorite lip gloss flavor. Not even two feather pillows had muffled Jess’s
voice.

“Nope. I drank one of Mom’s energy drinks at supper. I’m
good to go until after midnight probably.”

Ruby needed to stop stocking energy drinks in the fridge.

“Here.” Claire handed Jess Ancient Southwestern Cultures in
a Nutshell and nodded toward the floor. “See what you can find in there about
burials.”

Jess dropped to the floor and started fanning pages. “What
if there’s more than one group of people who buried their dead?”

“Then I’ll start comparing basket designs, or see if that
twig figurine is unique to a certain culture.”

For the next minute or two, the only sound was paper
rustling. Claire scanned the pages about the Anasazi death rituals, all of
which involved cremation.

“Claire?”

“Hmm?” She turned back to the index, looking for the page
number on the Mogollon culture burial practices.

“How old were you the first time you had sex?”

Claire’s thoughts screeched to a stop, her finger hovering
over Metate, the ground beneath her feet suddenly slippery. “Probably too
young.”

“Was it fun?”

She stared down at the top of Jess’s head. The girl was
looking at the color pictures in the center of the book.

“I wouldn’t exactly use the word ‘fun’ to describe it. Why?”

Jess shrugged. “Last spring, Tammy Mapes was talking about
sex in the bathroom. She’s done it six times now.”

“And how old is Tammy?”

“I don’t know. I think she just turned sixteen.”

Ah ha! With her sixteenth birthday on the horizon, Jess must
be dealing with peer pressure.

“What’s sex like?”

“Well—” Uncertain how Ruby would feel about Claire and Jess
analyzing Chapter Five of
The Season of Jess’s
Deflowering
without her permission, Claire hesitated.

On the other hand, better Jess come to Claire than Tammy
Mapes, the little tramp.

“I mean, I don’t want to know what sex is like with Mac,
because he’s my cousin and it’s pretty disgusting that you’re exchanging any
bodily fluids with him, especially that kind.”

Claire opened her mouth only to shut it again.

“What was it like your first time?” Jess blinked up at
Claire. “In those romance books Manny reads, the woman sometimes cries
afterward because she’s happy. Did you cry?”

“Uh …”

“Did it hurt?”

“I …”

“Was it smelly?”

“Smelly?” Claire sat back in the chair, fighting a grin.

“Yeah, you know, like the boys’ locker room.”

“What were you doing in the boys’ locker room?”

“Helping Tammy find her kiwi-flavored lip gloss.”

“Maybe you should stop hanging around Tammy.”

“Yeah, that’s what Kevin says.”

Claire frowned. “Who’s Kevin?”

“He was my lab partner in Chemistry last year.”

“Is he cute?”

“He’s a total hottie. Without his glasses, I’d give him an
8.5 on the hot-ilicious scale.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“I wish! I think he’s going with some senior girl. Do you
think Kate and Porter are having sex tonight?”

Knowing Kate, Claire doubted it. Porter’s credentials were
too clean—no visible scars, no prison tattoos on his arms. Although, there was
something slick about the guy that Claire didn’t quite trust, but it was probably
something to do with Deborah and her instant approval.

“Kevin is a major hunk, especially when he smiles, even
though he has braces, but they are the clear kind, so you can hardly tell he’s
wearing them. Do you think after Mom marries Harley she’ll be able to afford to
buy me braces? Have you ever kissed a boy with braces?”

Claire crossed her arms, watching Jess, waiting for the girl’s
head to pop and shower confetti throughout the room.

“Mac wore braces in school, did you know that? His teeth are
almost as straight as Porter’s. Mac smells better, though.”

And they were back to smells again.

“But Porter’s glasses are cooler.”

Glasses? “How do you know Porter wears glasses?” Claire hadn’t
even seen him in sunglasses.

“He was wearing them tonight.”

“When?” She’d been forced to sit and listen to her mother fawn
all over the man while Kate changed her clothes and fixed her already perfect
hair and makeup.

“Before you got home. But he only wears them to read.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he was wearing them when he was reading one of Joe’s
old books.” Jess nudged her head toward the bookcase filled with Joe’s pricey
first editions.

“Jess, you know you’re not supposed to take those books out
of this office.” Ruby had found the first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice
in Jess’s room being used as a coaster.

“I didn’t. Porter was reading it down here.”

The chair squeaked as Claire sat forward. “You brought him
down here?”

“No, silly. I found him in here.”

Tuesday, August 17th

“What’s that?” Chester leaned over the counter and frowned down
at the cell phone in Claire’s hand. “One of those electronic blueberries?”

“You mean a BlackBerry.” Manny corrected him from where he
stood in front of the magazine rack, skimming through the latest edition of
Cosmopolitan. “You need to get with the times, old man.”

From her stool behind the counter, Claire did her best to
ignore her two sidekicks, who’d been hanging out inside the cool, air
conditioned General Store with her for the last half hour—ever since they’d
finished devouring the omelets Gramps had made for them. She scrolled through
the list of contact names on Kate’s cell phone.

Gramps swished through the green curtain and sidled up next
to Chester at the counter, pointing at Kate’s phone. “Did you call Mac back
last night?”

“What do you mean ‘back’? Nobody told me he called.”

“Oops,” Gramps said. “Oh well, you’re supposed to call him
back, and when you do, ask him if he got my package.”

“What package?”

“None of your business.” He glanced at her hand again, his
brows knitted. “That’s a fancy-looking phone.”

Claire knew a diversionary tactic when she heard one. She’d
just have to ask Mac about Gramps’s mysterious package.

Taking the phone from Claire’s hand, Gramps inspected it at
arm’s length. He must have left his reading glasses in the kitchen. “When did
you get that?”

He handed it back to her.

“Umm, not very long ago.” Just this morning, as a matter of
fact.

“You think Ruby would like one?”

“Would Ruby like what?” Deborah stepped through the curtain,
her bright red lipstick matching the shiny red cowboy boots she’d purchased
yesterday in Yuccaville. Her boot heels clomped against the wood floor as she
approached the counter. Manny and Chester fell back, as if she carried the
Black Death with her. A rogue wave of Channel No. 5 slammed into Claire,
drowning her still-tender sinuses.

Deborah wrinkled her brow. “What are you doing with Kate’s
phone?”

“Nothing.” Claire avoided Gramps’s squint. “I was just
checking it out, that’s all.”

“Then why is Porter’s name highlighted?”

“Is it? Oh, hmmm. Would you look at that?” Claire hit the
button that turned off the screen and smiled at Deborah. “You look nice this
morning, Mother. Where are you off to?”

“Well, I was hoping I could convince Ruby to take me back to
Yuccaville. I broke a nail.”

Gramps visibly bristled. “Ruby is not your chauffeur. She’s
a busy woman.”

“Where is she?” Deborah arched a plucked brow.

“In Tucson.”

“For how long?”

“All day. She had some errands to run.”

Claire narrowed her eyes, wondering what Gramps was up to.
His story had changed since they’d shared a moment waiting on the coffee maker
this morning.

“I thought you said she took Jess shopping.” Manny had
replaced Cosmopolitan with Vogue.

“Really? Shopping? Did you sponsor this trip, Dad?”

Gramps turned a dark shade of pink.

“It figures.” Deborah tapped one of her long, sharp talons
on the countertop. “You see, this is exactly what I was talking about last
night. You’re so blinded by this woman that you can’t see that all she’s after
is your money. You’ve been putting out her fires with your cash ever since you
stepped into the picture.”

Gramps’s face darkened even more, now almost as red as
Deborah’s boots.

“Mom,” Claire started, intending to veer her mother off
course before Gramps turned purple.

“Stay out of this, Claire Alice!” Deborah practically snarled.

Closing her mouth, Claire touched the top of her head to
make sure it hadn’t actually been bitten off.

“How many times is Ruby going to have to ask for money
before you wake up?”

“For your information,” Gramps said, “I sent her to Tucson
this morning with Jess.”

“Is that what she made you think? Oh, she’s good.”

“I sent her there to get her away from you. And yes, I did
give her the money, because whether you like it or not, she’s going to be my
wife in less than a week.” He pushed away from the counter and hobbled toward
the front door, his shoulders rigid.

“Have you thought about how selfish you’re being?” Deborah
threw at his back. “She’s young enough to be your daughter. It’s only a matter
of time until she’s left nursing another invalid.”

Claire gasped.

“Hoooooo!” Chester shouted, a look of disgust on his face.

Gramps paused with his fists clenched at his sides. His pale
blue eyes were mere slits when he turned around. “Nobody invited you down here,
Deborah. Go home.”

“I’m sorry if the truth hurts, Dad, but somebody has to talk
some sense into you, and Claire certainly isn’t capable of it. She’s too mired
in her own mess.”

Claire searched the counter for something to whack her mom
upside the head with that wouldn’t cause permanent damage.

“Hey, guys.” Kate breezed in from the rec room, smiling and
bouncing with every step—clueless that she’d just walked into the middle of a
gunfight. “Have any of you seen my phone?”

* * *

“Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after
me,” Chester told Manny while dealing cards around the table.