Read Online She Drives Me Crazy by Leslie Kelly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leslie Kelly
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very well rap the knuckles of the county prosecutor. Particularly not when one of her own rowdy grandsons was a recent beneficiary of Johnny's goodwill toward the high-spirited youth of Joyful.
"Nice to see you, ma'am," he replied, every bit as evenly.
Then the woman turned her attention on Emma Jean, studying her like someone might study a particularly difficult crossword puzzle or riddle.
"This is Emma Jean Frasier. I'm sure you knew her grandmother," he explained.
"It's just Emma," his companion murmured under her breath.
Her words were lost under Daneen's surprised gasp, which Cora Dillon echoed. Daneen's reaction he could have predicted. Mrs. Dillon, though, was probably annoyed at being caught not knowing the name, marital status and credit history of a new arrival to Joyful. Maybe Cora was losing her touch—she wasn't often caught unaware when it came to gossip-worthy newcomers.
"Hello, Daneen," Emma said when neither of the other women made any effort to speak. Johnny had to wonder how she hid her tension beneath that smooth, cultured voice. Her whole body was tight enough to snap in half.
Little wonder. Daneen had, after all, stolen Emma's man away once upon a time.
"Emma Jean," Daneen whispered, sounding the tiniest bit unsure of herself. Very unusual for this particular woman, who hardly ever let anyone see her weaknesses.
A variety of expressions crossed Daneen's face, ranging from dismay, to dislike, and perhaps even a bit of embarrassment. With reason, of course, as they all well knew.
But Daneen quickly did her thing, tossing her head and ignoring whatever guilt she might still be feeling about what had happened back in high school. "Well, I had no idea you were coming back to Joyful." Daneen's tone sounded forced as she straightened her shoulders in a failed attempt at indifference.
"Never can tell where one of us bad pennies is going to turn up," Emma said with a too-bright laugh. "How… nice .. .it is to see you, too."
That sounded about as sincere as a televangelist asking for forgiveness for screwing over his flock, but Johnny figured Emma Jean had a right to be spiteful. Daneen had done her dirty, all right. In front of the whole town, to boot.
"Johnny, wherever did you find her?" Daneen asked. "I didn't even know you two were…acquainted."
He frowned slightly at the blatant lie. There was no way Daneen hadn't heard about prom night, even though she hadn't been there to witness it firsthand. She'd run off, leaving Joyful in a tizzy that same day. Still, she'd come back soon enough afterward to hear the story. It had been whispered over and over, just like all the other scandalous tidbits of local folklore.
The prom night interlude between rebel Johnny Walker and golden girl Emma Jean Frasier was probably repeated almost as often as the tale of how Joyful had gotten its name. Frankly, Johnny had always found the name story a lot more interesting. Reportedly two hundred or so years ago, one of the town's founders had stopped at the tiny two-road crossing and pronounced, "This place is about as joyful as a fi'ty cent whore with a toothache." And Joyful had been christened.
How could a couple of teenagers caught bare-ass naked at the gazebo by most of the members of the senior class of Joyful High compare with that?
Unfortunately, he appeared to be the only person in Joyful who believed it couldn't.
"Emma and I ran into each other at the grocery store," he finally said. "She needed some help. I'm going to drop her off at her grandmother's place, but we need the key."
Cora, who they'd nearly forgotten about, reached into her pocket and dug out a small key ring. "Here you go," she murmured, still staring with avid interest at Emma. "I cleaned it up for you this morning. I was dropping the key back off to Mr. Boyd."
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Dillon," Emma said, sounding as refined and genteel as her late grandmother, who'd been every inch a lady. Had Emma sounded as dignified when asking
"Nice to see you, ma'am," he replied, every bit as evenly.
Then the woman turned her attention on Emma Jean, studying her like someone might study a particularly difficult crossword puzzle or riddle.
"This is Emma Jean Frasier. I'm sure you knew her grandmother," he explained.
"It's just Emma," his companion murmured under her breath.
Her words were lost under Daneen's surprised gasp, which Cora Dillon echoed. Daneen's reaction he could have predicted. Mrs. Dillon, though, was probably annoyed at being caught not knowing the name, marital status and credit history of a new arrival to Joyful. Maybe Cora was losing her touch—she wasn't often caught unaware when it came to gossip-worthy newcomers.
"Hello, Daneen," Emma said when neither of the other women made any effort to speak. Johnny had to wonder how she hid her tension beneath that smooth, cultured voice. Her whole body was tight enough to snap in half.
Little wonder. Daneen had, after all, stolen Emma's man away once upon a time.
"Emma Jean," Daneen whispered, sounding the tiniest bit unsure of herself. Very unusual for this particular woman, who hardly ever let anyone see her weaknesses.
A variety of expressions crossed Daneen's face, ranging from dismay, to dislike, and perhaps even a bit of embarrassment. With reason, of course, as they all well knew.
But Daneen quickly did her thing, tossing her head and ignoring whatever guilt she might still be feeling about what had happened back in high school. "Well, I had no idea you were coming back to Joyful." Daneen's tone sounded forced as she straightened her shoulders in a failed attempt at indifference.
"Never can tell where one of us bad pennies is going to turn up," Emma said with a too-bright laugh. "How… nice .. .it is to see you, too."
That sounded about as sincere as a televangelist asking for forgiveness for screwing over his flock, but Johnny figured Emma Jean had a right to be spiteful. Daneen had done her dirty, all right. In front of the whole town, to boot.
"Johnny, wherever did you find her?" Daneen asked. "I didn't even know you two were…acquainted."
He frowned slightly at the blatant lie. There was no way Daneen hadn't heard about prom night, even though she hadn't been there to witness it firsthand. She'd run off, leaving Joyful in a tizzy that same day. Still, she'd come back soon enough afterward to hear the story. It had been whispered over and over, just like all the other scandalous tidbits of local folklore.
The prom night interlude between rebel Johnny Walker and golden girl Emma Jean Frasier was probably repeated almost as often as the tale of how Joyful had gotten its name. Frankly, Johnny had always found the name story a lot more interesting. Reportedly two hundred or so years ago, one of the town's founders had stopped at the tiny two-road crossing and pronounced, "This place is about as joyful as a fi'ty cent whore with a toothache." And Joyful had been christened.
How could a couple of teenagers caught bare-ass naked at the gazebo by most of the members of the senior class of Joyful High compare with that?
Unfortunately, he appeared to be the only person in Joyful who believed it couldn't.
"Emma and I ran into each other at the grocery store," he finally said. "She needed some help. I'm going to drop her off at her grandmother's place, but we need the key."
Cora, who they'd nearly forgotten about, reached into her pocket and dug out a small key ring. "Here you go," she murmured, still staring with avid interest at Emma. "I cleaned it up for you this morning. I was dropping the key back off to Mr. Boyd."
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Dillon," Emma said, sounding as refined and genteel as her late grandmother, who'd been every inch a lady. Had Emma sounded as dignified when asking
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