Cletus Quotes

Grandpa?" Declan raised his eyebrows. "We keep him in the shed out back," Jack said helpfully. "So he doesn't eat dog brains.

That’s right. You seize that woman, Cletus. You make her yours. And then after,” still grinning, Duane dropped his hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shake, “you give that woman your sausage.

I changed my mind.” “You changed—” “My. Mind.” I stopped short and faced him, placing my hands on my hips. “It’s like underpants, Jethro.” “Dirty and dark?” He smirked. “No.” I scowled at his facial expression. “A mind is like underpants because people change them all the time.” “But you don’t.” “I do change my underpants all the time, Jethro. And, for the record, I think it’s mighty rude of you to assume I don’t.” He almost rolled his eyes, but caught the urge. “I meant your mind, Cletus. You don’t change your mind.

Allow me to take a moment to express my appreciation for Cletus Winston and his entrances.

you ask too many questions," snapped Cletus. I kept my gaze on Roman. "that's because I get too few answers.

You’ll know one day, Cletus. You’ll discover what it’s like to find the other part of yourself. You’ll know it’s her, only her, always her. Maybe not right away, but eventually you’ll know. She’ll be your beginning, middle, and end. And your intentions won’t matter. Love brings its own intentions, and all other plans, hopes, and dreams fade to insignificance in the face of love.

Stop it.” Cletus snapped his fingers in front of our faces. “I hate it when you two mind-meld through your eyeballs.

If you give Cletus an inch, he’ll take a light-year.

The phone in my hand buzzed, demanding my attention, and a text flashed on the screen. It was from Cletus and the sight made my heart lurch and twist, a pining ache stealing my breath. As I scrolled through my notifications, I noticed several texts. Cletus: I’m sorry. I was wrong, you were right. Cletus: I just realized you probably don’t have your phone. Cletus: I think I’m going to make myself useful by retrieving your phone. Cletus: I just left your parents’ house. I have your phone. Cletus: Clearly I had your phone, if you’re reading these messages.

I’d kiss you but I don’t want our beards to tangle.

That’s right. I’m looking for an escape. Drew is out there. And—oh God—Cletus, I’m the worst. I’m so awkward, my awkward is embarrassed by my awkward.

I'm after a woman who likes sex but doesn't put the lust part above the intelligence part. She could have a hundred partners for all I care, just as long as they've been vetted for psychopathic tendencies. I have four rules. Number one: don't invite a person into your body if you wouldn't invite her into your kitchen. Number two: the act needs to take place in a clean environment. Number three: precautions need to be taken to protect from disease and pregnancy. And Number four: don't ration the passion, i.e. put you best fuck forward.

I aspire to different achievements than worldly success, and I know you do as well. But, Claire, I’m glad you finally saw reason and accepted the record deal. Your star is too bright to hide in plain sight.” “You just rhymed, Cletus. I might have to steal that for a song.” “Go ahead. I ain’t using it for anything profitable.

This is what we do. We fix things. We’re tinker-ers. If we didn’t tinker with cars, we’d tinker with people.” Drew flashed a rare grin. “You already tinker with people, Cletus.” “You are correct,” I sat straighter in my seat, ready to defend myself, “but only my family. And y’all deserve my tinkering.” “Don’t get me wrong. You’re good at tinkering. Aside from those revenge plots, people are lucky to have you interfering in their lives.

Talking, I was beginning to suspect, was the root of all evil. The ease of it in particular was an issue. Talk it out. Talk it over. Talk it through. Useless. If more folks thought it out, thought it over, and thought it through instead of talking, then the world would be less cluttered with opinions and assholes." Cletus Winston

See, Cletus has this thing for cheese, but since he has no thumbs he has to have me give him his cheese on his food every night. If I die, no one else knows about Cletus and the cheese, and poor old Cletus would lose his mind. So I can’t die until he does. See how that works? (Jack)

Cletus had instructed Duane to put his concerns in the suggestion box. Of note, Cletus had labeled the shredder in the upstairs office suggestion box a year ago when Duane had suggested half days on Fridays. “What

Yeah, see, and that proves my point. What killed Housini? A stupid accident. But for one moment of stupidity, he’d have grown old with his Bess and been happy as a big in shit. Notice I ain’t young, and if I die, old Cletus would kick my ass for leaving him all alone down here. (Jack)

Oh. That.” I shrugged. “She said I’d gained weight so I assumed she meant I was looking healthy.” Cletus raised an eyebrow at this, staring at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Why would you do that? Clearly she was waving her obloquious flag.” “What does obloquious mean?” “It means she’s a hateful bitch.

Cletus sneered. “You are the opposite of boastful, and your humbleness verges on infuriating.” “Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “Look, all I’m saying is that if a person is great at something, she shouldn’t have to pretend she's not, and she shouldn’t have to downplay her hard work. There's nothing wrong with humility or modesty, Jenn. But—for heaven's sake—take credit for being a badass.

I shivered, also moving closer, irritated by the layers of clothes between us. "You're such a good teacher, you fell for your student." "Yes, I did." His beard tickled my neck as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “And I continue to fall, daily.

Do you want to tell me what happened? Why were those bikers chasing you?” Jessica’s gaze bounced between us. “They were upset I switched their tampons with Depends.” Cletus sounded so serious and reasonable, I almost believed him. And I’d been there.

she held a part of my soul. When we spoke or touched, that piece returned home, and the rest of my soul rejoiced at the reunion.

Free Gucci Mane.

Someone call 911!” Cletus wailed. “I would, but I don’t remember the number!

Cletus’s middle name wasn’t “Evasive”, but it should have been. Another

You'll know one day, Cletus. You'll discover what it's like to find the other part of yourself. You'll know it's her, only her, always her. Maybe not right away, but eventually you'll know. She'll be your beginning, middle, and end. And your intentions won't matter. Love brings its own intentions, and all other plans, hopes, and dreams fade to insignificance in the face of love.

I’m not an expert,” said Cletus. “I’m a scholar. There’s a difference. An expert’s a man who knows a great deal about his subject. A scholar’s someone who knows all there is that’s available to be known about it.

We all did a lot of staring that day. The point that struck me as most interesting about our collective staring was the objects at which people stared. Jethro stared out the window. Billy stared at the fireplace. Cletus stared at the front door. Beau stared at the kitchen table. Duane stared at the refrigerator. Roscoe stared at Momma’s sewing desk. I sat in my recliner and stared at the spot where the hospital bed had been.

I’m going to give you some advice, Cletus.” Duane hit my shoulder. “It’s something you once said to me.” “Oh, no.” “Oh, yes.” He grinned, big and wide, and that was a sight to see. Duane never grinned, not really, not unless Jessica was in the room. I braced myself for whatever nugget of excrement he was about to toss at me.

Most men—especially young men—are simple creatures. But the good news is, men can and do change their minds.” "This is a distressing conversation." I rubbed my forehead, feeling a little nauseous. "Am I alarming your delicate sensibilities?" "No. It's not that. I just feel sorry for men now. It must be frustrating to be so feeble and limited." Cletus's eyes widened dramatically just before he barked a laugh. "Feeble and limited? Is that how you would describe men?" "No. But apparently that's how you would describe them.

You have a big heart. I would never trade your mammoth, irrationally generous heart for a smaller, more frugal one. I love every square kilometer of it.” A laugh tumbled from my lips and I lowered to the couch. “Really? It’s that big?” “It should have its own zip code. And it’s my third favorite thing about you.

She breathed a little laugh, stepping closer, her other hand coming to my jaw. “You are one in a million.” “And you are one of a kind.

If you can’t hold your temper in society, then you don’t get to be part of society. Those are the rules.

If we allowed folks to pick fights whenever they experienced unruly emotions, then everyone in town would walk around with a black eye.

Make choices that allow you to sleep at night.

I am a man born by a woman; birth by woman doesn't say perfect but fallible, so judge me by putting yourself before a mirror and examining how much scars you've got

I love you so much, and I miss you. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Cletus Winston.” “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Jennifer Sylvester.

Cletus’s famous sausage is famous.” Cletus’s

Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!’” Cletus

 I’m . . . concerned. You appear to be upset. What’s wrong?” His voice gentled and his eyes searched mine. “What’s happened? And what can I do to help?” I crossed my arms because my stupid heart was fluttering again. He caught me off guard. I was not at all prepared for Cletus Winston’s concern. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to bring y’all muffins. Can’t I bring y’all muffins?” He was scrutinizing me again. “No. Something’s off. Is it Jackson James? Do I need to maim him? Because I will. I could give him leprosy, you know. Armadillos are carriers.” My mouth fell open and a bubble of laughter emerged unchecked. “Cletus Winston, you will do no such thing.” “Sheriff’s deputy or not. Just say the word. It might improve him, actually.” “You are terrible.” I laughed, even though he was terrible, and I felt terrible laughing at such a terrible joke. At least, I hope it’s a joke

One thing I don’t know is why you’re drinking coffee from a Hello Kitty thermos.” Cletus sounded both interested and irked. “And why haven’t you bought one for me? You know I like that Hello Kitty.

Jethro huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You know, Beau. You’re a lot more like Cletus then you let on.” “Thank you.” Beau grinned at me. “In lightof recent events, I’ll take that as a compliment.

But I’m not an expert,” said Cletus. “I’m a scholar. There’s a difference. An expert’s a man who knows a great deal about his subject. A scholar’s someone who knows all there is that’s available to be known about it.

Cletus takes a sizeable gulp from the bottle, then points at Arden. “You’d learn something from that one, boy. She’s a hard worker. A survivor. Gets things done. That girl doesn’t know it, but she’s going places in life.

What’s wrong?” Billy’s question had me looking up. My second-oldest brother was already  dressed for work in his suit and tie. “And shouldn’t you be fishing with Hank?” “I cancelled. I have an errand to run.” Grabbing a coffee cup from the cabinet, I tossed a thumb over my shoulder. “The toilet is acting funny.” “Like what? You mean satire?” This question came from Cletus, not bothering to glance away from where he was reading at the table. He was still in his pajamas, his curly hair a mess.Nevertheless, I was surprised to see him up so early. “No, I mean—” “I hope it’s a dark comedy,” he added, still not removing his attention from the newspaper. “Cletus. That’s disgusting.”Sitting across from Cletus, Duane’s tone was reprimanding. Finally, Cletus tore his eyes from the paper. “What?” “Dark comedy?” My twin lifted his eyebrows.“Meaning poop?” “No, Duane.” Cletus paired this with a suffering sigh. “That would make it a shitty comedy,” I piped in, adding fuel to the conversation fire as I was prone to do, feeling more myself as I smiled. “Y’all are a bunch of toilets,” Billy mumbled under his breath. We all turned our attention to our older brother, with Cletus speaking for us, “Let me guess, because toilets in this house actfunny?” Billy tilted his cup toward Cletus. “Exactly.” I grinned, the rawness in me settling. Being around my brothers was a salve and a good reminder. We had all lived through dark times—sometimes together, sometimes separately—yet here we were, making toilet jokes on a Wednesday before 7:00 AM.

I grinned at Jessica James’s backside as she walked away because she had a big old brown grease stain on the left side of her skirt where I’d palmed her ass. “Damn, Duane, you got big hands.”Cletus sauntered up next to me, wiping his own hands on a rag. My grin became a frown and I shot my brother a look. “Don’t be looking at Jess’s ass.” I’m not looking at her ass. I remind you sir, she is my calculus teacher.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica’s departing form. “I’m looking at the palm print on her ass.

Look who finally decided to show up.” Cletus greeted me with both hands on his hips, standing just outside the garage. “I was about to send out a search party, but none of Hank’s exotic dancers are awake at this time of day.” Cletus paused thoughtfully, and then added, “Except Hannah.

How’s the coffee?” “She hasn’t had any yet,” Cletus answered for me, then added, “but she wants you to ask her on a date tonight, no place public. Somewhere private, for discussing things.” Jethro’s eyes widened, and he glared at his brother’s reflection in the rearview mirror, snapping, “Cletus.” “Don’t clutch your pearls at me, big brother. Look at her, for hootenanny’s sake. She’s got the hots for your ugly face, Lord help her. And I know you’ve been thinking about her, judging by how long you took in the bathroom this morning.” I clamped a hand over my mouth just as shocked laughter burst from my lips. “Dammit, Cletus,” Jethro growled, turning the ignition and shooting his brother an incendiary look. “You are the worst. Just, don’t speak. Ever. Don’t speak ever again.” Jethro’s gaze darted to me then away as he sighed, looking remorseful. “I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on Jethro’s thigh—FYI he had a really nice thigh—to ease his mind and because I wanted to touch him. “No, no. Please don’t apologize. He’s right and he’s wrong. I do have the hots for your face, but it isn’t at all ugly.” At this Cletus snorted and grumbled, “Well, it ain’t pretty.” Jethro pressed his lips together and I could see the hint of a smile there amidst his frustration. “Glad you have the hots for my face.” “Just ask her out already,” Cletus demanded. “She ain’t doing anything tonight. You two will go out tonight.

Billy helped,” Jethro said, his voice held hesitation. “Billy?” Duane didn’t try to mask his surprise; he and Beau stared at each other, communicating for several seconds without talking. The twins’ ability to impart thoughts through a look had always been frustrating. I didn’t like being left out of a conversation. “Yes. Billy. Billy helped,” I confirmed irritably. “And will you two cease discussing with your eyeballs. There are several other people in the room who can’t brain-link.” Duane lifted an eyebrow, his eyes darting from me to Beau and then quickly to the floor. “Fine, Cletus. Cool your engine.” I grunted, but said nothing. I didn’t want to pick a fight with Duane. I only had a few more weeks of him hanging around and the thought depressed me. He was a grumpy, brooding little bastard who had the habit of only speaking when spoken to—and sometimes not even then. I was going to miss him.

Having a beautiful future doesn’t lessen what you’ve lived through, it doesn’t mean you’re not grieving hard enough or that you’re ignoring weighty matters. It means you honor everything you’ve been through, all the hellish obstacles, and you recognize that you’re worthy of happiness, of beauty, of peace.

Oh, now. Come on. Billy isn’t so bad.” Cletus nudged my shoulder, repeating my words from earlier. I huffed an exasperated laugh. “Yeah. Not so bad. Except I think you’re forgetting one very important fact.” “I never forget facts.” He shook his head quickly, both dismissing and teasing me. “Facts are my friends.” “Oh yeah? You think so?” “I know so. I send facts Christmas cards every year and they reciprocate with peppermint bark.” “Well then, how about this fact: Billy will never ask me out on a date.” And that was a fact. Billy Winston was completely and irrevocably in love with Claire McClure. This information was not widely known, but I knew. I was a people watcher.

But no man would sacrifice his honor for the one he loves.” “It is a thing hundreds of thousands of women have done.” ― Henrik Ibsen, A Doll's House

I wondered if, fundamentally, the world was made up of people who either sought justice at the expense of redemption, or those who sought redemption at the expense of justice.

You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather was.” ​— ​Abraham Lincoln

Be suspicious of folks who tell you what you want to hear.

the truth, that being in love means my beloved takes precedence over even my own comfort, persnickety future mother-in-law notwithstanding.

Billy, of course, didn’t need a new suit. He already owned eleventy thousand. The dandy coxcomb.

I don't ask people to love me; I act that the values and meaning of love should be understood, although am not perfect

I surrounded myself with different people; races and tongues. And out of them I found heaven, although no one can ever make a hell for me!

When we give alms, it doesn't seem we have too much, but our assets increase when there's smile on the faces of those we helped; their smiles is our assets, our assets is their smile

Anyway, I didn't tell Cletus about my shipwreck, as we sat looking down on the whole neighborhood, and he didn't tell me about his. When the look of the sky informed us that it was getting toward suppertime, we climbed down and said 'So long' and 'See you tomorrow, and went our separate ways in the dush. And one evening this casual parting turned out to be for the last time.

He paused, opening the velvet box and revealing a white gold or platinum necklace, the chain comprised of delicate but wide filigree sections with diamonds set in star shapes at each of the links.

Congratulations, Jethro. Happy for you.” “Thanks, Drew.” The two men stared at each other and something passed between them, an understanding of some sort. “Oh great, now Drew and Jethro can mind-meld. I’m getting out of here.” I turned from the group and their chuckles. “Come on, Cletus. Stick around. I’ll gaze longingly into your eyes. Us single guys need to stick together,” Beau called after me.

Is there something going on with you?” I asked, giving him ample opportunity to share his troubles. His eyes lifted to mine and he twisted his lips to the side. He stared at me, carefully masking his thoughts and saying nothing for a time. Then he shook his head. “Nope. Nothing is going on with me.” Beau’s tone was deliberately devoid of telling emotion. I scrutinized him further. “Stop it, Cletus.” “Stop what?” “Stop trying to peer into my mind.” He cracked a half smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would never do that, Beau. Your mind is a depraved and dissolute place. I would fear for my eternal soul should I manage a glimpse inside.” He grinned at my teasing and I was pleased to see it. “That’s right.” He turned to the door and called over his shoulder as he left. “And don’t you forget it.

Jenn,” I said very loudly, sidestepping Jackson and inserting myself between the two of them. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” “Have you?” she asked, her sweet face tipped back and her impossibly pretty eyes arresting mine. “Yes. I have,” I said, then promptly forgot what I was going to say next. I sensed a hovering presence behind me so I glanced over my shoulder at Jackson—the hoverer—and frowned impatiently. “Do you mind? Give a man some space.” “That’s real funny, Cletus,” he said, not sounding amused. “Because I was just—” “Do you have any—uh—taffy?” I asked Jennifer, not wanting to hear Jackson’s complaining. If he was going to complain, I decided it was best to pretend he was a ghost. Taffy was the first thing to pop into my mind. “Taffy?” Her dark eyebrows drew together; I wondered if her real hair color would be the same dark shade as her eyebrows. I hoped so. “Yes. Taffy,” I said gently, and smiled when she smiled and shrugged. “I like to live dangerously.” She opened her mouth, just about to ask me something and I couldn’t wait to find out what, when Jackson cut in impatiently. “By eating taffy?” “Yep,” I turned just my head and gave him my profile. “It puts my dental fillings in grave peril.

Cletus Byron Winston, you are being rude.” I might have my own less than glowing thoughts about my father, but he was my father. He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and did a double take, his eyes narrowing on me. “First of all, how do you know my middle name?” “Your momma used to use it when you were naughty, when you boys would help her shelve books in the library. ‘Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!’” Cletus grinned. Then he chuckled. His eyes lost some of their zealous focus as he pushed away from the tree and strolled closer. “Oh yeah. She did, didn’t she?” “I felt sorry for Billy, though.” I scooched to one side as he sat down. “His name always confused everyone, like your momma was trying to talk to Shakespeare’s ghost. ‘William Shakespeare, would you please stop Beauford from pulling down his pants in front of the girls?’” Cletus laughed harder, leaning backward and holding his stomach. “I remember that. How old was Beau?” “He was ten. He was trying to show us his new Tarzan underwear. I don’t think he meant any harm.” “He sure did love that underwear.” Cletus nodded and he scratched his beard. “I’m going to have to find him some Tarzanunderwear in adult size.” “So you can torture him about it?” He pretended to be shocked by my accusation. “Certainly not. I don’t torture my siblings.” “Yeah, right.” I gave him my side-eye. “You forget, I’m a people watcher. I know you sell embarrassing pictures of them onstock photo sites. Jethro was griping about it after church over the summer. If it’s not torture, what do you call it then?” He lifted his chin proudly. “I offer invaluable character building opportunities. I help them reach their true potential through suffering.” “Oh, please

But then, out of nowhere, Cletus said, “I guess we’re going to have to practice.” “Pardon me?” “Practice kissing. Like what you did with Billy.” I reeled back as my head whipped to the side, our eyes colliding. I couldn’t believe my ears. “You think . . . you want me to practice kissing with Billy?” “No. No. Absolutely not.” Again, Cletus’s gaze flickered over me. “I mean you and me. I’ll help you practice.” The heart flip returned, but this time it was more forceful than before. And it brought some friends—the tummy cartwheel, the throat cinch, and the chest ache. What. The. Hell . . .?

More recently, my father has been impressed with how Billy basically started at the bottom of Payton Mills and has worked himself up to South East Region Vice President.” Cletus frowned. “Is that his title?” “My father thinks so. And he’s certain Billy wants to run for state senate. Both my parents like the idea of having a son-in-law in politics. I think that’s why they like Jackson so much. I know he has plans to run for office.” “Jackson would make a great politician.” “I thought you didn’t like Jackson?” “I don’t. Saying someone would make a great politician is like saying someone would make a great serial killer. It’s not a compliment.

Anyway,” Beau—clearly eager to change the subject—pointed down the hall, “let’s talk about the color Jethro decided to paint the second bedroom.” “What’s wrong with green?” Jethro grinned slyly. His poker face had always sucked. “Nothing is wrong with green, but that’s a very odd shade of green. What was it called again?” “Sweet pea,” Duane supplied flatly for his twin. “It was called sweet pea and I believe it was labeled as nursery paint.” “Nursery paint, huh? You have something to tell us, Jethro?” Beau teased, mirroring Jethro’s grin. “No news to share? No big bombshell to drop?” Jethro glanced at me. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell them yet.” “Why would I? I’m good at keeping secrets.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, making sure I looked innocent. “And I’m not the one who’s pregnant.” “I knew it!” Beau attacked Jethro, pulling him into a quick man-hug. Jethro’s grin widened to as large as I’ve ever seen it. “How could you possibly know?” Duane clapped Jethro on the back as soon as Beau released him. “Because you’ve always wanted kids, and weren’t one to futz around once you made up your mind.” “You should have painted it vomit green, to disguise all the baby vomit you’re going to have to deal with,” Beau suggested. “And shit brown,” Duane added. “Don’t forget about the shit.” “Y’all are the best.” Jethro placed his hands over his chest. “You warm my heart.” “Make sure the floor is waterproof.” Beau grabbed a beer and uncapped it. “Don’t tell me, to catch the vomit and poop?” “No,” Beau wagged his eyebrows, “because of all the crying you’re going to do when you can’t sleep through the night or make love to your woman anymore.” “Ah, yes. Infant-interuptus is a real condition. No cure for it either.” Duane nodded and it was a fairly good imitation of my somber nod. In fact, how he sounded was a fairly good imitation of me. You sound like Cletus.” Drew laughed, obviously catching on. Duane slid his eyes to mine and gave me a small smile. I lifted an eyebrow at my brother to disguise the fact that I thought his impression was funny. “Y’all need to lay off. Babies are the best. Think of all the cuddling. This is great news.

I can’t get two words out of her, and here you are, turning down what she’s offering for free,” he lamented flatly. “What did you do, anyway? Save her cat?” “No. That was Jess,” Duane mumbled. That made me laugh. “Jess was eight, Duane. Eight. All I did was climb a tree and get her cat.” And she’s yours now in any case. “That’s right!” Hank snapped his fingers then pointed at Duane. “I forgot about that. Didn’t Jess have a thing for Beau before you two hooked up?” “We didn’t hookup, Hank,” Duane bit back. Hank lifted a hand, palm out, as though he surrendered. “Fine. Before you twopledged your troth. Is that better?” Duane grumbled something I didn’t catch, then shrugged. “Yeah. So what? The past is in the past.” My brother glowered at me as he said this. “Oh good Lord, Duane. What was I supposed to do? Not get the damn cat? You didn’t even like her then. You used to call her freckles, remember that?” “I still call her freckles.” “No you don’t, you call her princess,” I said, not about to lose an opportunity to correct my brother about his recent domestication, mostly because I was envious of it. Hank pointed at me with his beer. “So, let me get this straight. You saved Jess’s cat when she was eight, and she had a thing for you after that?” Before I could decide how to answer, he turned to Duane. “And you’re okay with that?” “Hank, let me tell you something.” Duane’s voice took on an instructional air that cracked me up, likely because it sounded like an imitation of our brother Cletus. “If you’re looking to pledge your troth to a woman within sixty miles of Green Valley, you might as well assume she’s had a thing for my brother at some point in her life.” Duane tapped the neck of his beer against Hank’s. “Welcome to the club.” “I’m the founding member of the club, Duane.” Hank’s tone was dry and sour. “And what club would this be?” I tapped my bottle against both of theirs just to be obnoxious. “The Beau gets all the girls club. 

Okay. Fine. Why are you disappointed in me, Cletus?” “Because I provided means and opportunity. All you had to do was exploit the situation.” “What are you talking about?” “On Friday? With the blankets and coffee? You think that was all by accident? That was arranged.” “Arranged?” I blinked at him while he tore off another piece of his doughnut. It smelled like it was strawberry flavored. “Yes. Arranged.” Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms and examined Cletus. I decided he was odd. “You’re odd.” “Yes. I am. But that doesn’t negate the fact that you fumbled my pass. If we’re going to make this thing happen with Jethro, I need you to bring your A-game.” “This is about Jethro?” I sat up straighter. “Of course. What’d you think I was talking about?” Apparently I wasn’t catching on quickly enough because he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes with great effect. “Do you want my help or not?” “Yes, yes, yes,” I said quickly, leaning forward at full attention. “Yes. I want your help.” “Fine then. We need to coordinate our attack.” Cletus punctuated this statement by popping the remainder of the first doughnut in his mouth. “Good. Yes. Attack synchronization.” My phone rang as he chewed. I glanced at the screen, saw it was Marta, and sent it to voicemail. Marta called back immediately, earning me a severe frown from Cletus. “You should get that.” He gestured to my phone. “You get that and I’ll ruminate while eating this other doughnut.

My feelings for Cletus were . . . overwhelming, whereas my affection for Billy and Beau felt tranquil.

I decided that the difference between Cletus and his brothers was that Billy and Beau did not agitate my emotions. They inspired warmth and fondness; benign, safe feelings.

[...] she held a part of my soul. When we spoke or touched, that piece returned home, and the rest of my soul rejoiced at the reunion.

Since when had my mother become Team Cletus?

may all your children have kind hearts, quick wits, and green thumbs

Don’t cling to people’s perfection, you ain't better. Just breathe in and out, and then tolerate. You’ll surely see some wows in imperfect beings. We're all wow-ly imperfect.

marriage can be a mountain shrine, or it can be a garbage heap. At the end of the day, garbage or shrine, it’s still yours. And nothing is quite as difficult as letting go of what’s yours.

I seasoned my coffee with molasses and apple cider vinegar, and returned to the table, picking up the newspaper once more.

ornate centerpieces nickel-and-rust-colored metalwork hearts,

I’d arrived here at 3:10 PM after a full nine-hour shift at the auto shop, fatigued and looking for a beer just to discover Jenn’s momma’s event planning had ventured beyond the pale.

profligacy.

Good Lord, the woman had invited everyone in East Tennessee and all their neighbors but none of their children.

Well, we need to do something, and quick.

Thus far, I recognized 90 percent of those present. But I wouldn't say I was exactly friends with these people. In short, I wouldn't invite a single one of them—except Jethro, of course, maybe the sheriff and Janet James, perhaps the tuxedoed waiter—to my birthday.

Diane had stopped crying over her failed marriage and she’d ceased plotting the demise of her ex-husband ever since we’d handed over the reins for the wedding, exponentially more so since the holidays.

The divorce papers had finally been signed and her ex had all but disappeared from our lives—though I made it my business to keep tabs on the man—Jenn’s momma had buried herself in party planning, seemed to find joy in being exhausted by details.

hangers-on

snobby southern small talk, which is like Yankee small talk except there’s significantly more “Bless their little hearts” and sharing of recipes.

Look at them—not the waitstaff, Sheriff James and Jackson.

Hey guys.

I didn’t get a chance to mouth back, Or what? before

the faux-barn

Fact: The Jameses and the Donner-Sylvesters

one-up

follow-up

Roscoe can bring one of your jackets, he was just getting out of the shower when I left.

soft, appreciative-looking smile

I craned my neck to peer over those gathered, and I spotted her instantly, breath catching in my lungs, the sight similar to the effect of sunlight on snow.