Queenie: The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County #3 by HJ Bellus & Magan Vernon

Author:HJ Bellus & Magan Vernon [Bellus, HJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The Worst Call

“That was fast, Queenie.” I’m greeted by Mr. Morningwood at the top of the stairs.

“Not much hair to work with on Mr. Vernon, and his wife had strict instructions on how she wanted it styled.” We both share a laugh. “I’m pretty sure it’s laid in that same comb over his whole life. Well trained hair.”

He pats me on the shoulder and offers up a warm smile. “You’re a good man, Queenie. Proud to have you as part of our family here.”

“Thanks,” I nod. “Means a lot to me, Mr. Morningwood.”

Every day that passes, I become more and more settled here in Beaver Falls. It’s almost, and I mean almost, a place I can envision myself calling home forever.

Moira’s proudly showing Mrs. Morningwood the latest pet she stuffed. Although, the whole idea of getting your pet stuffed is bizarre, I must admit Moira is damn good at what she does.

“Hey.” I turn to the group. “Where’s my Blanchey-Boo?”

Luna walks out of her office with her gaze on a file folder, doesn’t look up before she answers. “Doctor’s. Yearly check-up thingy on her lady bits.”

“Gotcha,” I nod.

And I know she’s not getting her check-up and her appointment was just a week ago. I’m no Obstetrician, but this early women don’t go that often. As soon as I wave my farewell and step out into the sunlight my phone rings, it’s Clancy.

“Queenie,” I answer in my sing-songy voice.

“I need you at my house now.”

“What?”

“Hurry, please. I need help.”

He ends the call before I can even ask a question. Shit, Clancy lives out on the edge of town. I send a quick text to Luna letting her know I’d be back in a few hours and to keep Annie after the play date along with Sadie. The whole drive I run different scenarios through my head. I even ring Blanche a few times and only get her voicemail.

Is her hair caught in his fly or what? Jesus, would it have killed Clancy to offer up a few more details. When I pull into the driveway Clancy is pacing back and forth on his porch. I guess Blanche’s hair isn’t caught in his zipper.

“What’s going on?” I hop from the truck and feel the anxiety attack me when I make eye contact with Clancy. He’s been crying.

“Clancy,” I finally yell. “What in the hell is going on?”

In a low whisper with a defeated undertone, he simply replies, “She lost the baby.”

“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair. “Where is she?”

“In the downstairs bathroom. She won’t let me in.”

“Call Brady. I’ll go talk to her.”

“She doesn’t want anyone to know, Queenie.” Clancy collapses on a bench with his face buried in his palms.

“He’s your best friend and you need him right now. Call or I will.”

I open the front door and enter the silent home, but before I look for the bathroom I send Brady a quick text. I don’t care right now who wants what. I’m only concerned about who needs what.

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