Jilted by Varina Denman

Author:Varina Denman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance;inspirational;forgiveness;adandonment;southern;friendship;shunned;Texas;women's fiction;single mother;religious;husband leaving
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2016-04-25T12:13:44+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sunday after work, Clyde pulled out of the Dairy Queen parking lot and decided he had left Lynda on her own long enough. When he dropped by her house to check on her, he was surprised to find reporters in the yard hovering around the property line like vultures around a wounded animal. A few of them approached his sedan, but when he pulled himself from his car, he towered above them with a scowl, and they backed away. In spite of that, he figured they would find out who he was, and his name and his past would be splattered on the news stations right along with Lynda’s and Hoby’s.

No wonder Lynda hadn’t shown up at work.

At lunchtime, Dixie told him Lynda had called in sick, but neither of them believed that to be true, so Clyde had promised to check on her. He tapped on the door and waited, imagining how she would lock herself away. He couldn’t leave her there no matter what was going on in the front yard. He knocked louder but still got no answer.

Clyde thought for a second about going by the United and asking Ruthie for a key, but that would only upset the girl. She and Lynda had enough issues without him reminding her.

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, slipped out his driver’s license, and used his body to shield his actions from the onlookers with their cameras. He had the door open in less than three seconds. Lynda might be angry with him, but he was used to that.

“Lyn?” He stepped into the living room, closed the door behind him with a soft click, and then he listened for a few seconds. Empty silence. The lights were off in the kitchen, so he knocked on the bedroom door. “Lynda, it’s me. You in there?”

He knew she was in there. Where else would she be? In the best of situations, she might have gone to stay with her sister, but Velma couldn’t handle anything else, and Lynda was still healthy enough to admit it.

He knocked again, this time louder.

“What do you want?” Her voice sounded clear, not as though she had been crying. Clyde realized Lynda rarely cried.

The knob turned easily. Thank goodness. Breaking in through her front door was one thing, but her bedroom was something entirely different. “Figured you needed checking on.”

“I don’t.”

Clyde paused in the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. She was lying across the bed wearing an old T-shirt and what looked like oversize men’s pajama pants. “Mind if I turn on the light?”

“Why did you come here?”

Clyde ran his fingers through his hair, looked back up the hallway to the living room, and then sighed. Sometimes Lynda could be testy, and she didn’t always know what was good for her. He flipped the light switch.

Lynda pulled the pillow over her head and rolled to her side. When she drew her knees up to her chest, her T-shirt crept up, exposing four inches of her spine.

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