Brian drove Angelina’s van to the lodge (minus Andrew, Royce, Zanz, and Earle who stayed for the upcoming bands, each with a girl promising them a ride), while Angelina drove Brian’s smoky Honda to the police station fully vexed.
Chief of Police Everett Clay had known her since third grade. For most of high school, he had been her boyfriend. Before Angelina knew her true desires, she had coupled with Everest and hung out with their doubles, Dave and Donna. Angelina had loved Donna, but not out loud, not even to herself. Although she had carved their initials on the underside of a locker room toilet seat. But now she and Everett were lifelong friends. So if he wanted to tell her something, why didn’t he invite her to lunch, for crying out loud? Arresting Trevor!
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
At least Everett had the decency to act embarrassed. He jumped up to open the door for her, a little late and red-faced.
“Oh, you look so beautiful,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. His eyes lit up and couldn’t seem to shift their gaze. He stood straighter, sucked in his stomach, and touched her shoulder. “That jacket becomes you.”
For a moment Angelina forgot her anger. No one flattered her, except perhaps Trevor, but his was so sly she could rarely catch it.
“When did you get so, so fetching?” Everett asked, and Angelina almost laughed before updating him on her personal transformation. “Thanks to Trevor. I’m Angelina now, not Nancy. And while I love the outdoors, I’m not a lumberjack. So I’ve started dressing like a woman. How’s your family? Leticia, and Lauren?”
They were fine. And Everett assured her Trevor was fine. “He’s in the deputy’s office watching TV. Don’t be angry.”
“Ingersoll should have reprimanded him and written a ticket. His band was opening at the Avalon and Trevor missed it. What’d you do? Allow him one call and confiscate his phone?”
“Nan—I mean, Angelina. I meant this as a warning. A serious warning. Building permits, re-zoning, licenses, whatever you need—waived right through. But this is flagrant.”
“The UNC handles most of the permits and zoning committees. If you stepped in, trying to do me favors, it was unnecessary.”
“Baby, I’m concerned.” Everett was entitled to address her as baby, although he never did. In high school, everybody was everybody’s baby.
Nonetheless she said, “Angelina,” to remind him that was her name now.
Moving the chair farther from his, she sat and listened to the big, bad message that justified hauling poor Trevor into the station, right before his band’s debut. “Your friendly delivery business is making me a laughingstock. My staff gossips about your friend in the next room weaving all over the road.”
“He’s not driving anymore. His brother will, with Trevor riding shotgun.”
“Well, they’ll get stopped a lot, Angelina. Ticketed, fined, and past that, assigned court dates.”
“Why?”
“Because my credibility’s at stake. I told Ingersoll to get him in here to show: I’m not pulling punches.”
“Everett, do you remember my grandparents? They worked as accountants and administrators—the little administrating there was—at the old Black Mountain College. We’re setting up an arts colony at my place, with UNC accreditation. Those once a week deliveries supply necessary cash until it gets going.”
Everett sighed and folded his hands behind his graying head. Angelina shook her head at his listen-here gesture. “I remember my grandparents talking about what scandals went on up there. At the old Black Mountain College. So plan ahead, baby. But for now, make the deliveries yourself. Nobody’s gonna pull you over.”
Fine. She’d drive, not Brian, with Trevor shotgun. She stood up and he hugged her full on, not just a shoulder squeeze as usual. “He’s fine, you’ll see,” Everett said, opening the office door. Trevor lay prone on the carpeting, his chin on his fists, his legs bent behind him, while he watched a war movie.
Brian drove Angelina’s van to the lodge (minus Andrew, Royce, Zanz, and Earle who stayed for the upcoming bands, each with a girl promising a ride later), while Angelina drove Brian’s smoky Honda to the police station fully vexed.
Chief of Police Everett Clay had known her since third grade. For most of high school, he had been her boyfriend. Before Angelina knew her true desires, she had coupled with Everest and hung out with their doubles, Dave and Donna. Angelina had loved Donna, but not out loud, not even to herself. Although she had carved their initials on the underside of a locker room toilet seat. But now she and Everett were lifelong friends. So if he wanted to tell her something, why didn’t he invite her to lunch, for crying out loud? Arresting Trevor!
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
At least Everett had the decency to act embarrassed. He jumped up to open the door for her, a little late and red-faced.
“Oh, you look so beautiful,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. His eyes lit up and couldn’t seem to shift their gaze. He stood straighter, sucked in his stomach, and touched her shoulder. “That jacket becomes you.”
For a moment Angelina forgot her anger. No one flattered her, except perhaps Trevor, but his was so sly she could rarely catch it.
“When did you get so, so fetching?” Everett asked, and Angelina almost laughed before updating him on her personal transformation.
“Thanks to Trevor. I’m Angelina now, not Nancy. And while I love the outdoors, I’m not a lumberjack. So I’ve started dressing like a woman. How’s your family? Liz, Leticia, and Lauren?”
They were fine. And Everett assured her Trevor was fine. “He’s in the deputy’s office watching TV. Don’t be angry.”
“Ingersoll should have reprimanded him and written a ticket. His band was opening at the Avalon and Trevor missed it. What’d you do? Allow him one call and confiscate his phone?”
“Nan—I mean, Angelina. I meant this as a warning. A serious warning. Building permits, re-zoning, licenses, whatever you need—waived right through. But this is flagrant.”
“The UNC handles most of the permits and zoning committees. If you stepped in, trying to do me favors, it was unnecessary.”
“Baby, I’m concerned.”
Everett was entitled to address her as baby, although he never did. In high school, everybody was everybody’s baby.
Nonetheless she said, “Angelina,” to remind him that was her name now.
Moving the chair farther from his, she sat and listened to the big, bad message that justified hauling poor Trevor into the station, right before his band’s debut. “Your friendly delivery business is making me a laughingstock. My staff gossips about your friend in the next room weaving all over the road.”
“He’s not driving anymore. His brother will, with Trevor riding shotgun.”
“Well, they’ll get stopped a lot, Angelina. Ticketed, fined, and past that, assigned court dates.”
“Why?”
“Because my credibility’s at stake. I told Ingersoll to get him in here to show: I’m not pulling punches.”
“Everett, do you remember my grandparents? They worked as accountants and administrators—the little administrating there was—at the old Black Mountain College. We’re setting up an arts colony at my place, with UNC accreditation. Those once a week deliveries supply necessary cash until it gets going.”
Everett sighed and folded his hands behind his graying head. Angelina shook her head at his listen-here gesture. “I remember my grandparents talking about what scandals went on up there. At the old Black Mountain College. So plan ahead, baby. And for now, make the deliveries yourself. They all know better than to pull you over.”
Fine. She’d drive, not Brian, with Trevor shotgun. She stood up and he hugged her full on, not just a shoulder squeeze as usual. “He’s fine, you’ll see,” Everett said, opening the office door. Trevor lay prone on the carpeting, his chin on his fists, his legs bent behind him, while he watched a war movie.
(Click here to read the next episode)
