Jan Hudson - The Sheriff

Mary Beth laughed. “I can’t even remember that far back. Yes, this is Katy. She’s not usually shy. I think she’s overwhelmed with all the folks who have dropped by.” She coaxed Katy from her hiding place. “Katy, this lady is Dixie Russo. She was one of my very good friends when I used to live here. We were cheerleaders together.”

“Hello, Katy. I brought a present for you.” She reached into her tote bag and brought out a coloring book, crayons and a package of stickers.

Katy’s eyes lit up. “Thank you very much.”

Dixie laughed in the wonderful rich way that Mary Beth remembered. “You’re very welcome. You’re much more polite than my herd.”

“How many children do you have?” Mary Beth asked.

Dixie rubbed her stomach. “This one makes six.”

“Six? Good heavens, how do you manage?”

“Some days I wonder that myself.”

Mary Beth settled Katy at a table and offered Dixie a cup of coffee. No sooner had they gotten settled and started to catch up on news of the town than a pickup truck drove up. Wes Outlaw, the former sheriff, got out carrying two grocery bags. A gray-haired version of J.J., he’d gained a thickness around his belt that showed his enjoyment of Nonie’s cooking. His deeply lined face was that of a man who had spent too many days in the Texas sun.

“Morning, ladies.” He smiled broadly. “Mary Beth, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Welcome home. I’ve come with milk and bread and eggs and peanut butter. Plus a few other items that Nonie added to the list. Keep your seat. I’ll put the stuff in the kitchen and set the traps.”

“What traps?” Dixie asked.

“Don’t ask,” Mary Beth said. “Sheriff Wes, it’s so wonderful to see you. Do I get a hug?”

“You betcha. Let me take care of this first.”

When he left for the kitchen, Mary Beth turned to Dixie. “Tell me about your family.”

Dixie didn’t need much coaxing. She obviously loved her husband and kids. Jack Russo owned an insurance company and was on the school board, and the Russo brood, except for the two-year-old, were all in elementary school. “Two of mine are the same age as Ellen’s children. She’s divorced, you know. And selling real estate. Doing right well.”

“No, I didn’t know. I’ve lost touch with everyone.”

“Well, you’re back home now, and that’s all that matters. I gather that you’re divorced, too.”

“Yes,” she said simply. Even though Mary Beth and Dixie and Ellen had been very close friends who told each other everything, she didn’t want to relate all the grisly details of her life with Brad.

When Sheriff Wes—Mary Beth couldn’t bring herself to call him anything else—rejoined them, he collected his hug and took a cup of the coffee she offered, along with a cookie, and reminisced for half an hour or so. After another cookie, he stood. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have another couple of pickups and deliveries to make. I’ll see you later.”

Ellen rushed in as he was on the way out. “Mary Beth!” she squealed, her arms open wide. “Puddin’, I can’t believe it’s you!”

When Ellen grabbed her, Mary Beth’s tears began to flow. She’d kept herself together until now, but she couldn’t keep it up any longer. She was blubbering like a baby and laughing at the same time. Maybe it was hearing that old nickname or seeing Ellen and Dixie again, or maybe she was crying because she’d held back her tears as long as she could, but she couldn’t stop.

She and Ellen held each other for a long time.

“God, it’s good to see you, Mary Beth. You look fabulous! I bet you haven’t gained a pound since high school, and I’ve put on at least ten.”

Dixie snorted.

“Oh, all right,” Ellen said. “Twenty. And if I don’t stop squalling, I’ll look like a raccoon.” She began fishing in her purse.

“Too late, Tammy Faye,” Dixie said, plucking several paper napkins from the dispenser on the table and passing them around. “The mascara has run amok.”

“You don’t look like a raccoon,” Mary Beth said, dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose. “You look gorgeous, as always.”

Ellen had always been a beauty. She had put on a bit of weight and her hair was blonder and her makeup thicker, but she was still a stunning woman in her smart red suit and high heels.

It was like old-home week. They fell into conversation as if they’d talked only yesterday. How good it felt to see her old friends, to feel as if she belonged again.

They both stayed for lunch, put together from her new stores of food, then Dixie had to leave. “I’ll drop by tomorrow,” she promised.

Ellen lingered. “I hate to see you staying here, Mary Beth. You’re welcome to stay with me. My couch makes into a bed, and you and Katy—”

“No, but thanks. We’ll be okay here until I can figure out something. I was hoping that the property would be income-producing, but as you can see…” She fluttered her hand.

“I know. The old motel is a mess. It’s been listed with my company for ages, and there hasn’t been a nibble. And the people who were leasing the Tico Taco just couldn’t make a go of it. Too much competition. Another Mexican restaurant on the new highway just opened last month, and there was already one next to Bullock’s Supermarket on Second Street.”

Mary Beth sighed. “That’s a shame. Well, maybe some other sort of restaurant might consider leasing the place. It seems to be in pretty good shape.”

Ellen took her hand. “Don’t count on it, Puddin’. The market is pretty well saturated and the location isn’t the best. I’ve gotta run. I have an appointment to show a house, but we’ll think of something.” She hugged her again and wiggled her fingers as she hurried out the door.

Mary Beth didn’t have much time to think about anything for the steady parade of old friends who stopped by. None of them came empty-handed. She had enough homemade pickles and pies and casseroles to last for months. And her former Sunday-school teacher, bless her heart, showed up with two roll-away beds.

“Mommy,” Katy had asked, “is it Christmas already?”

“No, sweetie. Christmas isn’t for a long time. Why do you ask?”

“’Cause so many nice people brought presents to us.”

“It is like Christmas, isn’t it?” Mary Beth smiled and hugged her daughter. “And these very nice people are old friends from when I was growing up here. It’s a custom to bring food and gifts if someone is sick or if there’s a funeral or if someone is new to town. This is their way of being neighborly, of welcoming us to Naconiche.” And she had felt welcomed. These were old friends, caring people holding open their arms to her. Their offerings hadn’t felt like charity at all. It was simply small-town neighborliness, and she’d love being able to spend a bit of time with every one of them and renew old ties. She kissed the top of Katy’s head. “I feel very welcome, don’t you?”

Katy nodded. “I like it here. Are we going to stay?”

“I think so. At least for a while. Would you like that? You don’t mind living in a restaurant?”

“It’s kind of funny, but remember what you always say?”

“What’s that?”

“We can think of it as a ’venture.”

Mary Beth laughed and hugged her again. “Yes, it’s really an adventure. Dixie tells me that there’s a preschool at the church. How about we get you enrolled so you can have some children to play with.”

Katy’s eyes lit up. “When? Now?”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

Her daughter threw her arms around Mary Beth. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, Katy.”

THAT EVENING after a sumptuous dinner, Mary Beth sat on a bench out front of the restaurant and watched Katy chase lightning bugs.