From Wendy Lyn Watson's Mysteries a la Mode
Howdy. I'm Wayne Jones. Y'all may know me better as Tally Jones's ex-husband. And if that's how you know me, you probably don't like me too much.
I ain't gonna lie. I did wrong by Tally.
She was just a little bit of thing--fresh out of high school, mourning the loss of her high school beau, and struggling to take care of her mama--when I met her. She'd just started waiting tables at Erma's, and she dumped a plate of chicken-fried steak in my lap. She fussed and fretted and cried, and I promised her that all would be forgiven if she would let me take her to out for some mini golf and a burger.
I've never been very smart, very brave, or very handsome. I'm just an old bubba with a knack for gettin' grass to grow. But I could fix Tally's problems. I could take care of her bills, wrangle her mama when she got loaded, and give Tally a little peace and security. It made me happy to help her. Made me feel like a gosh-darned super hero.
But once Tally's mama passed and she came into her own as a grown woman, she didn't need me much anymore. And that's when I started to stray.
I don't mean it was her fault. No, I own what I did. One hundred percent on me.
I can live with the consequences ... the end of my marriage, the whole Brittanie situation, the blow to my public image. What I'm having a harder time with is what my actions did to Tally.
My tomcatting hit her hard. Made her feel low. Made her lose her trust in other people ... and in herself.
I realize now that my love for Tally wasn't quite what it should have been. I loved her like a possession, not like a person. But I did love her. And it pains me to see her hurting because of what I did.
I'm not sure how I'm gonna do it, but somehow I have to make amends.