A Town Without Honor
Copyright© 2026 by Tx Tall Tales
Chapter 4: What is Love without Honor?
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 4: What is Love without Honor? - Honor built his life around loyalty: a wife he had loved for decades, two children, a thriving company and a town that depended on him. Then one shocking discovery reveals a web of betrayal far larger than an affair. Walking away is easy. Discovering the truth—and deciding what honor really demands—may destroy him.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic DoOver Cheating Cuckold
I woke in a strange bed, disoriented, my mouth a desert, my head throbbing, both behind my eyes and at the back of my head. I felt claustrophobic, contained.
I slowly realized a pair of bare arms were holding me and a warm body was pressed against mine. I almost spoke Beth’s name, when I heard the soft voice.
“Shh, Honor. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll get you some water and aspirin.”
The arms pulled away and I felt lost, abandoned. I rolled onto my back, my head turning, watching her walk away. She was wearing a plain cotton nightgown. It reached almost to her feet, disguising her body. Pale green, with little flowers. She was barefoot.
I looked down and realized I was only wearing a pair of boxers. I pulled the sheet up to my waist.
She returned and handed me a few pills, and a glass of water. “All of it, now. Drink up.”
“My head’s killing me,” I murmured.
“No wonder. Trying to drink St. Johns dry by yerself. I’m going to kill those guys.”
Things were coming back to me. Images, words. Her glaring at me. Some girl whose name I didn’t even know trying to give me a tonsillectomy with her tongue. “I ... I don’t know what to say.”
She lay down. “Nothing for now, alright?” She put her hand on my chest, her head on my shoulder, cuddling up to me. “Relax. Rest for a bit.”
I put my arm around her and felt her sigh. “God,” I groaned. “I’ve never been half that drunk in my entire life. How bad was I?”
“You mean before or after you tore my clothes off and tried to have your way with me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“No! Please, tell me I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not to you...” I pulled my arm away, shrinking away from her.
She grabbed my arm and put it back around her shoulder, leaning against me. “Of course you didn’t. Hell, you couldn’t even walk! It took two grown men to get you in my bed. Pretty sad when you think about it.”
“Jesus, Jane! Don’t scare me like that!”
She slapped me on the chest. “At least you finally got my name right. You called me Beth half the night. Bastard.”
I leaned back, miserable. “Shit,” I grumbled.
She gave me a squeeze. “It’s okay.” She kissed my shoulder softly, then giggled. “You’re a legend now, ya know? The Newf from away. Millionaire, rock star, tragic love story, bad boy, heartbreaker. Honor the Newf.”
“I guess they got the tragic part right. I’m completely lost, Janie. I don’t know what I’m doing or why. I ... I’m getting out of control. This is not me. I’m always the cool, collected one. Serious. Life all figured out.”
“Maybe you needs this. Let the other part of you run wild. Figure out a way to find a life between the two. You’re too young and too handsome to be a stick in the mud.”
I chuckled. “Nobody calls me handsome, Janie. Not even my mother.”
“Fools they are. You’re a man among boys. Big, strong, wide shoulders. You look like a lumberjack, not a businessman.” She gave a tug on my beard. “We might could lose this. I wonder what hides behind it.”
“Ugly mug.”
She giggled. “I doubt that.” She was quiet a moment. “Are you really a millionaire, or was that just talk? You said you gave your wife your business. You weren’t lying to me, was ya?”
“No. Never. I took a little money out of the business before I left. Less than twenty percent of the cash reserves. I’d just sold a patent I had for a couple of million. I had some investment money offshore I helped myself too, not much, really. Yeah, I have a few million. It’s only money. Not worth much in the big scheme of life.”
“What’s the gold mine you’re sitting on,” she asked, teasingly.
“Jesus, I was babbling last night, wasn’t I?”
She nodded. “Trying to impress?”
“Hell no. I just wanted to spend my money. They wouldn’t let me. Hell, I earned it. It’s mine. About time I spent a little.”
“Gold mine?” she asked again, trying to keep me focused.
I sighed. “I sold the patent because I have a better one. If the old one was worth a couple of million, this one’s worth a lot more. I was going to use it in my business until I got the slap in the face. They didn’t deserve it. I gave them the business, but without the patents, it’s a hard road ahead of them.”
“You’re going to hang ‘em out to dry then, are you? Punish them all.”
I was getting a little irritated with the grilling. “Why not? They betrayed me. Every last one of them. It was my fault, for working so hard, they said. Spending all my time on the business I loved.” I felt my blood pressure rising. “I never loved that business. I did it because I had to. For them. I gave my life to that town, and to my family, and they punished me for it. Fuck ‘em.”
She sighed, pulling me sideways and hugging me until I calmed. When my breathing had settled, she kissed me softly. Damn, that was a nice little kiss.
“I don’t believe you, Honor.”
I glared at her. “Are you saying I’m lying? I don’t lie. I don’t.”
She kissed me again, a little longer. “No, you’re lying to yourself. You’re not going to let them go under. You’re going to save them. Save her. I knows it.”
“Why should I?” I growled.
“I’m not saying you should. I’m saying you will. I don’t know how, and I can’t figure out why, but you’re going to. Soon, too, would be my guess.”
I hated to admit it, but she probably was right. “They betrayed me, Janie. All of them. My wife. My mother. My family. My employees. All of them. Every last fucking one of them.”
“I know. I’m sorry. You’re too good for them. They don’t deserve you, and still, you’re going to do it anyway. It’s who you are.”
“I hate them,” I said softly.
“You hate what they did.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t even one person take my side? Didn’t I deserve that much? I gave my whole life to them.”
She rolled onto her back, and I followed, leaning over her, looking down into that pretty face, eyes moist. “I don’t know, Honor. I can’t understand it either.”
I kissed her. Long and deep, my hand wandering over her body, cupping her breast. After a while, she pushed me away. “No. I wish you were free, but you’re still tied to her, to them. Not like this.”
She was right. I stopped, then leaned down and pressed my lips softly to hers. “You’re right, Janie. I haven’t let go yet. I don’t know how. I’m trying.”
“Go back. Work it out. If one day you find yourself available, think of me, Honor. Please.”
“I’ll think of you all the time. There’s something about you, I don’t know what, but it calls to me. It’s screaming in my soul.”
She pulled my head down, her lips taking mine possessively. “I know that sound. It’s a faint echo of mine.”
She pulled away from me. “I thought I’d let you sleep in, but it’s clear you’re up now. I think we should both get dressed, and get you back to your hotel. I’d let you buy me breakfast, but for a rich guy, you’re busted. Not a dollar in your wallet.”
“Why don’t you clean up and then, if you don’t mind, we’ll go back to my place. I can make myself presentable and I’ll buy you the biggest breakfast you can imagine.”
She laughed. “No, you won’t. We’re having Sunday dinner at Nanny’s. She’d kill me if you arrived without an appetite. A little brunch will do.”
I leaned back and rested, while she got ready. I listened to her moving around, singing in the shower, talking to me from the bathroom. I had naughty thoughts of her but tried to push them away. I eventually got up and dressed the best I could in the previous day’s clothing. They stunk, but they’d have to do.
A little more than an hour later I was almost human again, as we sat at a table on the sidewalk, enjoying the sunshine, and an English breakfast. Janie was looking at me. “Who are you Honor? The man who can open his heart to a stranger, the lost boy, the carefree vagabond, the broken soul, bar room singer, the mysterious Yank? Who are you now?”
“Don’t I wish I knew? For the moment, I’m just a lonely guy enjoying the company of a kind beautiful woman under a gorgeous sky.”
“How much longer do I have you? When are you leaving?” she asked nervously.
“I don’t know. No plans really. I have to go back sometime, I know. Get some closure. I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? You? Why?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. Guess I’m probably worried I’ll let them suck me back in, crush my soul, put me back on the treadmill for everyone else’s sake. They always tell me I’ll do the right thing. I always do; it’s a curse. I’m afraid of figuring out what the right thing is.”
“I’ll tell you what the right thing is, Honor. Take care of yourself for once. Before it’s too late.”
“I’m trying, Janie.”
“No, you’re not. You’re wallowing in your misery. Let it go. Forget about it a while.”
“That’s easy for you to say. All my life, it’s been Beth.”
She shook her head. “Everyone’s had their heart broken, Honor. How you made it more than thirty years without it happening is a miracle. It hurts. Then it hurts a little less. Eventually, it’s a painful memory you avoid dredging up.”
I was looking at her funny, and she paused. “What?”
“Where the hell did your Newfie accent go?”
She blushed. “I t’awt ya likes da Newfie girls, b’ye.”
I just raised my eyebrows, waiting.
She laughed. “God, you’re adorable. Alright, so most of the younger crowd match the company. With the parents and down in the harbor, when the accent’s going, you kind of go along, blend in. When I’m talking to you, I guess I follow your way.”
“All of you?”
“Oh, Hell no! Ronnie, Diane and that lot could no sooner speak without an accent than you could tell a lie.”
“I can lie if I wanted to.”
“Right.”
I looked at her, square in the eye. “What if I said I think you’re ugly?”
She pouted, eyes open in surprise.
“Shit. Shit, I didn’t mean it. You’re beautiful, gorgeous. You take my breath away. Furthest thing from ugly there is. I’m sorry.”
She laughed at me. “You can’t lie worth shit, Honor. Five seconds out of your mouth, and your scrambling to take it back.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “That’s not a bad thing you know.
“On the other hand,” she continued. “I’m not sure I like someone who could say that so coldly. Try to hurt me.” She looked sad and disappointed.
I was shocked. Had my little joke been that bad? “I ... I said I’m sorry, Janie. I didn’t mean it.”
“I think subconsciously you did. It was a cruel thing to say.”
“Janie! I didn’t, I swear.”
She winked at me. “Now, that’s how you tell a lie. Straight-faced, no mercy. Sell it.”
I was lost for words, lips moving, but nothing coming out. She giggled. “I’m teasing, Honor. Jaysus, b’ye!”
“That was cold,” I told her.
“And you don’t deserve it? Or do I need to remind you of last night, loverlips?”
I blushed. “Game, set, match to Jane.”
She stood, grinning. “Take me for a ride on your motorcycle, Honor. We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to be to Nanny’s. Let’s go up to Cape Spear.”
“Cape Spear?”
“Easternmost point in North America. Unless you’re counting Greenland now. It’s pretty up there.”
“I should try to talk to the kids before we go. I told them I’d call ‘em this time every day, whenever I could.”
“Let’s do it then. Time’s a wastin’.”
I was the one wasting my time. My daughter Marie was still giving me the cold shoulder. Carol asked me to be patient. “Do you have time for a quick hello to Beth?” she pleaded.
“Not today, Carol. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow.”
I think it was the first time I told her no when she’d asked. She looked a little surprised. “Alright. It really would help her, though. She’s been down in the dumps since your last talk.”
“Not today.”
She nodded sadly. “You do what you have to, Honor. I understand. Please don’t give up on them.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for trying with Marie.”
She nodded. I said goodbye and cut her off.
Jane didn’t prod me about the call, and we took her car down a couple of miles to a motorcycle store so I could get her a helmet. Canada wasn’t as lenient as many of the states, and I only had one.
After that, it was only 20 minutes or so out to the point. I stood staring across the vast ocean, high above the water, in the shadow of the old lighthouse. Damn, it was beautiful country, and I couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have Jane there with me to share it.
We walked hand-in-hand, while she filled me in on a little history. I was sad for it to end when she told me it was time to head out to her grandparents.
I liked having her on the bike, her body pressed against mine, arms around my waist. I was proud and almost never thought of Beth during the ride. She made me take a detour down to Quidi Vidi, where I was informed the regatta was held every year. I’d only missed it by a couple of weeks. She was already trying to get me to commit to making the next one.
“It’s part of what we are, Honor, here in Argentia. You need to see it, feel it, live it. It’s your history.” We were parked at the end of the lake, looking over the serene waters.
“I’d like to, but no commitments. I don’t make them lightly since I refuse to break them. I confess, I’d enjoy learning more about it, with a pretty little tour-guide like you.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’d have no problem finding someone to stand beside ya.”
We had one more stop, unbeknownst to me, before our Sunday Dinner. Jane took me out to the back 40 on the family property near her grandparent’s place. I drove down a dirt track until I reached the ‘meadow’.
“We’re looking for red berries, low to the ground. Perfect time of the year for partridgeberries, and Nanny will love you for it.”
They were easy to spot, large groupings of the bright red berries. Some plants might have only a few, while others had dozens. They were small, sort of wild blueberry sized and reminded me of the berries on a holly, but these plants were lower. We filled a bag in less than 20 minutes. I tried a few, a little tart for my taste, but good none the less.
Ten minutes later we were pulling up in front of the family home, a boxy, two story cube of a building, red siding, white trim, with an odd little one story wing sticking off the side. Looked a hundred years old if it was a day.
Several cars were parked in the grass and filled the driveway. Easy to see we weren’t the only ones coming over for dinner.
Hugs and kisses all around as we entered, and then I was whisked away from the kitchen where the smells of the cooking were an assault on the senses. The cabbage smell dominated, although the roast chicken seemed to be giving it a run for its money.
The men were gathered around out on the grass, in a bedlam of lawn chairs, no two alike. Uncle Luke was holding court, and I was guided to a rough hewn Adirondack chair that had seen better days. Uncle Luke was sitting in its brother, although his was a rocker.
Jane’s cousin Jeff, my guide from the previous night’s excursion, stuck a beer in my hand, India on the label.
“Get dat In-di-ya, b’ye,” he said with a laugh.
We chatted and I took some ribbing for my performance the night before.
“Yer out of practice, Honor,” one of the men said, whose name I couldn’t for the life of me recall. “A couple of dozen beers and you were flat on your back.”
“Way out of practice,” I confessed. “I probably haven’t had more than three beers in one night in the last ten years.”
“No bars yer way?” Jeff asked.
“Not much time for it, I’m afraid. Bit of a workaholic, with a family to take up the rest of my time. The occasional wedding or big party I might drink a few, but that’s about it. No more than half-a-dozen times a year.”
“You don’t drink when you play?” another cousin asked. Darrel, I learned his name was.
“I don’t play in public anymore. Hell, to be honest, I hadn’t really picked up a guitar since college.”
Uncle Luke piped in. “A shame, that. ‘Bout time you come home, den. A man needs his outlets. All work all the time, ‘snot good for da soul, b’ye.”
I lifted my beer to him. “I won’t argue. Haven’t felt this alive in years.”
Jeff laughed. “Didn’t look very alive when we carried ya up the stairs last night. Dead to the world, ya was. I’ll be keepin’ an eye on ya.”
It was funny to hear this 22 year old claiming responsibility for keeping me on my feet and sober.
“Smelled good in the kitchen. What’s for dinner?” I asked.
Uncle Luke looked at me like I had three heads. “Sunday dinner. I’m sure I told you.”
Darrel, or maybe his brother Darren spoke up. I’m not sure which, the two guys in their late 40’s, early 50’s looked too much alike for me to tell ‘em apart yet. “Jiggs Dinner every Sunday.”
I was still confused and they were laughing at me. “Damn, b’ye, it’s a good bit of work, makin’ a right Newf out of ya. Boiled dinner? Salt beef, turnip greens, new potatoes, carrots, figgy duff, pease pudding. Surely you’ve had it?”
“Can’t say I have,” I confessed.
“What the hell’s the matter with that sister of mine?” Uncle Luke asked angrily. “Didn’t have a Sunday Dinner for the family?”
“I grew up away from the rest of them. I was down in Pittsburgh. Never had much opportunity for a family dinner, until I was fifteen or so. Gramma passed two years after I moved back. She wasn’t doing much cooking then.”
Uncle Luke didn’t look happy. “No sense of family? Her kids didn’t pick up the slack?”
“Different traditions, I guess. Family barbecue every now and then, Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter dinners.”
I found myself trying to defend them. “Family’s still a big deal. Hell, forty-two of the people working for me were all direct relatives. Aunts, uncles, first and second cousins. That’s not counting the companies I hired for things like janitorial service and maintenance. All family.”
“Forty-two?” Uncle Luke asked. “What kind of business you have, you can keep that many working. Grocery maybe?”
I explained the nature of my business, the growth, and how they turned on me, and I left. It was a long talk, with lots of nosy questions. Guess I couldn’t complain about that, they were family. To be honest, they seemed more like family to me than half the crowd at home. As Uncle Luke would have said, “A shame, that.”
Darren, I recognized him now, because of the hat he was wearing, spat on the ground. “Not a set of balls on the lot of them. Nobody took that fucktard to the side and whipped his ass? What kind of family is that, son?”
I shook my head sadly. “I’ve been asking myself the same question, Darren. The same damn question. Not a single one of the bastards took my side. I carried that whole damn town, for all the good it did me.”
Darrel put another beer in my hand. “Well, fuck them, the whole damn lot of them. May the business collapse and the whole lousy stinking bunch of them end up on the dole. No respect for a marriage, or for the man puttin’ food on their plate. Let ‘em rot.”
“They’re family, Darrel,” Uncle Luke said softly. “Maybe not the best family a man could have, but family none the less.” He turned to me, “I don’t imagine they had cause to disrespect you, Honor? You weren’t bad to them?”
I shrugged. “I don’t believe so. I paid top wages. Provided great benefits. Helped when they needed it. Put three of their kids through college every year. Shared the profits with all of them. Hired four or five more people every year, usually more. Took care of a few hospital bills that got out of hand. Gave ‘em loans when they needed. I did my best.” I took a drink. “I might not have been the easiest boss. I wouldn’t put up with drugs on the job, or affairs in the office place. No cheating about hours worked. I had my rules, and I expected them to abide by them. My sister tells me I was too hard on ‘em. That’s why none of them liked me.” It was difficult to confess that last part.
“That’s bullshit,” Darrel said harshly. “They wouldn’t respect you if you were too easy on ‘em. It was your job to make sure the business was run right. They had to know that. Sometimes it takes a hard man to be a good boss.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I did my best. That’s all I could do. Whatever it was, I guess it wasn’t enough.”
“What was it you did, in your business?” Uncle Luke asked.
I explained the concept behind Honor Energy, high efficiency energy saving central controls for higher end homes. Thermostatically controlled vents, pressure sensors for leaky ducts. Tie-ins to solar and geothermal power solutions, including solar water heating. Smart control panels, with learning software to adapt to the owner’s preferences. A smallish niche market where we did very well in the northeast and were just starting to make some inroads nationally.
It was nice to see they understood, for the most part. It started an energetic conversation about the different needs for different regions, and how we handled it. Ties to government grants and local energy subsidies and tax-breaks. How they would apply differently in different provinces of Canada.
We were still digging into the details when we were called in to dinner.
I didn’t have much choice in what I ate. Jane loaded up my plate for me, with a bit of everything, and a few things I didn’t recognize. The taste was strong, the salt beef and cabbage overpowering. It was good, but it appeared to be nothing less than ambrosia to those around me. My manners had been impressed on me enough to make sure I commented on how wonderful everything was and to ask about the items I was unfamiliar with.
Uncle Luke was beaming. “Bet you never ate nothin’ like this, back where you’re from. Shame that, what you’ve been missing.”
“Bit like a boiled dinner you can get at the diner, with more ingredients, and the salt beef instead of corned beef.”
Darrel’s wife, Anne, spoke up. “Lot of people round here optin’ for corned beef these days. Make the Jiggs with little more than cabbage, potatoes and carrots. Real shame, barely a shade of the real thing.”
I was filled in a little more on relationships, who belonged to whom, where they lived, where they worked. Uncle Darrel was one of the fortunate few who had a crabbing license, after the cod embargo, and he made a good living at it, along with his sons, a brother-in-law, and a nephew or too. His daughter Lena’s husband worked with him. I understood his opinion on being a boss a little better.
Most of them were second cousin’s, my father’s first cousins, and second cousin’s once or twice removed. It was too complicated to figure out. I figured if they were my father’s generation, they were uncles and aunts, if they were mine, they were cousins. The younger ones, I didn’t worry about.
After the dinner, we retired back outside. I was surprised that almost a third of them smoked. A lot of Newfies smoked. At $8.00 a pack it was an expensive habit. I was offered a smoke, then a cigar. Even a pipe by Uncle Luke. I had to explain I’d never used tobacco of any type.
“Smarter than you look,” Uncle Luke teased.
We had a good half-hour before the women joined us. As they came straggling out, more chairs were dragged out of the garage. I offered up my chair, one of the better ones, but Nanny would have none of that. “First time in my home, you think I’ve no sense of how to treat a guest? Next time, you’ll fend for yourself,” she said with a smile.
Talk turned to politics for a while, losing me, then broke into a few separate pockets of conversation. Jane had maneuvered her chair next to mine, opposite Uncle Luke. “Honest now, what did you think of dinner?” she said softly, leaning over the arm of my chair.
“Good. Some of it was a little odd to me, but I enjoyed it. Enjoyed the company better.”
“Comfort food,” she said. “Like fish and chips, flipper pie. You’ll get used to it. In time you’ll come to love it.”
Her voice dropped lower. “They grill you about last night?”
“About drinkin’ like I did?”
“About where you slept,” she murmured, blushing.
“Not a word.”
She grinned. “Lucky you.” She took a long sip of her beer, and I noticed she was already a little tipsy. I wonder if the grilling had gotten to her.
I was a little surprised when the neighbors came by, dragging over their own chairs. I got a brief introduction as our crowd grew to more than 20 people, not counting the small ones, who seemed to be running about on the back of the property.
I was less surprised when a couple of guitars, an old ukulele, and a squeezebox were brought out. One of the guitars was stuck in my hands.
“Time for the Runner and Waiter show,” Jeff laughed.
The name confused me for a minute, until he nodded toward me, “The Runner,” then toward Ronnie, “The Waiter.” I’m sure my face turned as red as Ronnie’s.
We sang a few Newfie tunes and some of the more popular songs. I was taking it easy, no cheatin’ songs for once. I was in too good a mood to go down that path.
My turn around the circle, Janie asked me to sing her song. Your Song, which until a couple of days earlier had always been Beth’s.
I got a poke in the ribs when I hit the power chords and started singing
♫ Janie’s got a gun. Janie’s got a gun... ♫
I earned a laugh from the crowd before I started the song she wanted.
When I finished she sang an Irish tune, in honor of her grandmother, I figured. Not another Gaelic one, she sang Four Green Fields, a sad song I’d heard before.
Second time around, I was cajoled into playing Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive again. I guess it was a hit in the bar the other night. Janie was acting odd, and passed on singing, shaking her head adamantly until they left her alone. It was a shame. She had the best voice there, by far. Instead, she seemed determined to pound down a few more beers. I was worried about how they’d affect her, weighing all of a buck-ten, soaking wet.
Everyone seemed to be having a good time, although I saw more than a few worried glances cast Janie’s way. Next time around, I tried to pick up her mood a bit. I turned to face her.
♫ It’s late in the evening; she’s wondering what clothes to wear.
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair.
And then she asks me, “Do I look all right?”
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight.” ♫
I realized I might have overdone it when I was singing the end of the chorus.
♫ ... And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don’t realize
How much I love you. ♫
Her eyes teared up, and I felt a moment’s shame. Like I was leading her on. Luckily, it was a popular song, and I wasn’t alone singing it.
She stood when I was finished, with a determined look on her face. She walked over to Ronnie, a bit unsteadily. She whispered to him, and he shook his head. I almost laughed when she grabbed his shirt in her fists and growled something into his ear. He finally nodded, and I thought he looked embarrassed.
She turned around, a mischievous smirk on her face, staring at me. Ronnie counted down, whatever they were playing. One ... two ... one-two-three...
♫ Hey! Hey! You! You!
I don’t like your girlfriend!
No way! No way!
I think you need a new one
Hey! Hey! You! You!
I could be your girlfriend
Hey! Hey! You! You!
I know that you like me... ♫
She was dancing around, as if she was in the Avril Lavigne video, extending her arms, pointing her fingers at me. I saw the looks of surprise and shock on the faces around. I’m certain my face was beet red.
Janie ended, holding onto the arms of my chair, singing into my face.
♫ ... You know it’s not a secret
Hey! Hey! You! You!
I want to be your girlfriend. ♫
She stood up smirking, and gave me a little curtsy, before taking her seat again.
The place had gone dead quiet. I heard Jeff suddenly laugh loudly. He sang, poorly I might add:
♫ I guess it’s not a se-cret! ♫
That got quite a few chuckles. Her mother, Mary, stood up and took Jane by the hand. She pulled her upright. “Mary Jane Chafe! This way.”
Jane looked over at me, rolling her eyes, grabbing her beer before she could be dragged away and read the riot act.
As soon as she was in the house, a regular Babel of sound ensued. There was laughing and teasing. Nanny seemed oblivious. “I thought it was a fun song,” she said.
Ronnie was apologizing. “She had me by the short and curlies. Sorry ‘bout dat.”
Uncle Luke was givin’ me the stink eye. “She’s not the kind of girl to be trifled with, Honor,” he said simply.
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