Justified by Varina Denman Read Free Book Online

what’s the hang-up?”
    â€œFor goodness’ sake, Coach Pickett, he went to prison.”
    â€œWell, he’s out now. And he repented.”
    She stomped into the house and returned holding the end of the extension cord. “You don’t have to be so touchy about it.”
    He stared up at her, frustrated with himself because he still found her attractive. “Clyde’s a friend of mine.”
    Her expression softened, but only slightly. “I’m sorry, JohnScott. I’m just tired.”
    When she shut the door behind her, JohnScott’s insides exploded, and he yanked the orange cord, gathering it into a swirl.
    So disappointing.
    Fawn was no longer the pious brat he had taught in high school. Now that she viewed herself as an inferior Christian, she had actually started becoming a better one. A humble one. A woman he considered worthy of admiration.
    Yet every so often, the old Fawn showed up and stuck her little nose in the air, as though to keep herself from becoming too clean. And during those times, JohnScott regretted his parents’ attachment to her. He regretted his promise to keep an eye on her. And he regretted the way her smile made him feel.

Chapter Nine
    The coach got on my nerves. As I drove into town late the next afternoon, I thought about his visit. I appreciated him fixing my steps, but I got the feeling he had assigned himself to watch over me when I didn’t need, or want, the attention. And he always seemed to be laughing at me.
    I pattered into the Trapp Laundromat carrying a flimsy plastic basket full of secondhand maternity clothes Velma had scrounged. As I lifted the lid of a washer, I thought of the designer brands I used to wear. Closets full. I gripped a T-shirt by the shoulders, scrutinized it, then shoved it into the machine.
    I missed the designers. When I left home, Mother had been gracious enough to send my wardrobe, but my Miss Me Jeans and Anthropologie dresses were currently stuffed in a closet, waiting for the day I got small again. I wiggled my toes in my sneakers. At least my Kate Spades still fit.
    I kicked them off and settled into a blue plastic chair in the corner, easing my back pain. The soapy, clean scent of detergent cleansed my mood, and I settled down with my history textbook, but soon my attention wandered from the dull pages to a poster hanging on the bulletin board to my left. The homecoming street dance. Ruthie and Dodd would probably go. I would stay home.
    Traffic passed the front windows. Mostly pickup trucks. A few SUVs. A delivery truck headed to the United grocery. But then my mother’s Audi crept by, stuck behind a slow-moving cattle trailer. My father sat behind the wheel, his eyes focused on the bumper in front of him, but Mother pointed at my Chevy and pursed her lips.
    Wouldn’t they have been shocked if they could see me? Barefoot and pregnant. My dad had used that phrase to describe me, and at the time I found it offensive, but now I only snickered. He had been right after all.
    About some things.
    I ran my finger down the page and began reading again. He hadn’t been right about the church. He’d said they would cast me out with the other sinners, yet I had been there every time the doors opened. The members had limits to what they could overlook, but apparently I fell within the boundaries of grace. Or maybe my last name simply granted me special treatment. I wouldn’t be surprised.
    The Laundromat door swung open, and the shrill blast from a train two blocks away disrupted the monotonous churning of the washer.
    My mother.
    She flashed a fake, almost desperate smile that sent a metallic taste to the roof of my mouth. “Fawn, honey.” Her gaze bounced from me to the old machines to the dirty floor, where powdered laundry soap gritted beneath her sequined sandals.
    My tongue felt swollen and dry in my mouth. “Hello, Mother.”
    She scrutinized the wall above my head. “Are you