He Took My Prison Sentence, So Now My Secretary Is Mine novel · Chapter 23 of 24

Chapter 23: Sunday Supper, Again

Dewey's yard smelled of mesquite smoke and burnt onions, and somebody's radio was playing Willie Nelson too loud.

Folding tables stood in rows between the parked trucks.

The shop's bay doors were open to a Sunday afternoon with the sky wide and blue.

Yancey stood at the gate with a cooler of beer in both hands and his heart in his throat.

"They'll be nice," he said.

"I know," Jud said.

"Dewey might not be."

"Dewey hit me on Wednesday. We're past it."

Jud took the cooler, shifted it to one arm, and found Yancey's hand with the other.

"Come on."

They walked in together.

Conversations dipped and picked up again around them.

There were twenty or thirty people in the yard.

There were men from the shop and their wives, two women from Yancey's old work crew, a toddler in a Texans jersey, and the neighbours.

A man at the grill raised his tongs.

"Yancey! Is that him?"

"That's him," Dewey said, from behind a smoker the size of a rowboat.

He wiped his hands on his apron and came forward.

He stopped in front of Jud.

For a moment nobody in the yard moved.

Then Dewey held out his hand, and Jud took it, and the two of them shook, hard, for rather longer than was necessary.

"I saw the news," Dewey said.

"It was on the news?"

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