Free The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off by Carolyn Brown

shared with her. When that song ended, Darla Jean gave out another number.
    Jack leaned over and whispered, “I guess you are here because you’re pissed over that stunt about Easter. I heard they hid your wings and halo so you wouldn’t take them back. They’re out at the Prescott house. I’ll shut down the police radio if you want to break in and get them.”
    â€œShhh,” Alma Grace said.
    Small towns!
    Especially Cadillac, Texas!
    There weren’t even enough cussing words in Josie’s vocabulary to cover the way Alma Grace felt right then as she sang “When We All Get to Heaven.” Damned old gossip vines anyway! Why couldn’t people just accept things the way they happened and not talk them to death?
    Darla Jean opened her Bible and read scripture about forgiveness. Then she shut it and started talking. Alma Grace heard the words. She believed them. But she dang sure wasn’t ready to embrace them like a brother.
    No, sir! If it hadn’t been for all the gossip about Lenny cheating, Carlene for leaving him for it, those women for taking her prestigious position, and even Patrice for ruining a wonderful book, she wouldn’t be sitting on the back pew of the CNC church that night. She’d be in her own place of worship singing in the choir and she wouldn’t be sitting in the back row, either.
    The clock struck eight and Darla Jean said, “We’ll close with a word of prayer. We have refreshments laid out right over there for anyone who’d like to stay and have fellowship.” She pointed to a table on the west wall.
    Alma Grace bowed her head and planned to slip out the back door as soon as Darla Jean said “Amen.”
    Alma Grace glanced at Jack but he had his arms folded over his chest and his head cocked over to one side like he was thinking. He’d stepped into the Cadillac police chief’s position back around Christmas time and he’d worn his uniform to the church services that evening. He looked good in it, too, but then Jack had always been handsome even back when she was still a gangly girl in junior high and he was a big tough high school football player. His brown hair was longer now than when he first came home from many years in the military but it looked good on him.
    â€œYou came straight from work, didn’t you?” she said.
    He nodded. “Had to work until the last minute but I like Wednesday night services so I try to make them when I can,” he said. “You are here because you feel a need to be in church but you are mad at those women on the Easter committee, right?”
    She nodded. “I’m not going to forgive them for a long time. Any of them.”
    â€œCan’t say as I blame you. It was a mean trick. I go with Mama every year to see the Easter program. After what they did, I don’t think I’ll be there this year. Come on. Let’s go have some cookies and coffee and visit. And remember, half of all the gossip you hear isn’t true. Maybe those wings aren’t at Violet Prescott’s house after all.”
    â€œI left my car at the shop. I really should be going on back,” she said.
    â€œI’ll walk you home if you’re afraid of the dark,” he teased.
    Will you hold my hand? Will you kiss me good night? Will you push me out of the way when the angels throw lightning bolts at me for what I’m thinking right now? Questions dashed through her head like kids let loose after a long sermon in church.
    â€œOkay, then,” she said. “I could use a cup of coffee.”
    ***
    Patrice unlocked the door to her two-bedroom house on the west end of town and threw herself on the sofa. She needed a glass of wine but she was too tired to go get it. If they had another three days like they’d just put in at the shop, she’d have to use a wheelbarrow to get the bank deposit to the bank. Who would ever have thought that pure old gossip could bring