Rock Bottom: Mercy on the Bayou, #5

This is Fan Fiction. It is not written by the original author, but by a fan who has special permission to create stories using the author's characters and locations.

This is Book 5 in the Mercy on the Bayou Series and is not a standalone book.

This series does not feature Fortune Redding as the main character.

Other than Jana DeLeon's original story elements, the characters and names are creations of the author's imagination. Events, timeline, and descriptions in this book/series may not coincide with those in the original Miss Fortune series.

Special thanks to Jana DeLeon and J&R Fan Fiction for making this possible.

Chapter 1

Howdy, Miss Hazeldine. How you doin’ today?

Mercy’s brows lowered into a suspicious V. Why was Eugene Mooney asking about her welfare? Was he trying to pump cash from her dry bank account? And why was he smiling? His open mouth resembled a house of horrors entrance!

What do you want? She carefully pulled her box closer, wishing he hadn’t noticed her removing the last of her contents from the motel room she’d rented from him until he evicted her.

That looks heavy. Here. Let me help you. Eugene wrestled the box from her arms, his knees nearly buckling from the weight. He staggered sideways and bounced off the side of the motel and then went the other way.

Mercy rolled her eyes and followed, retrieving the box before he fell on it, dumped it, or—most likely—fell under it and tried suing her for damages. I can manage, Eugene.

She walked through the weed-infested, rutted parking lot and put it into the trunk of Loyal’s car. Having him store her belongings at his apartment while she found a new place to live wasn’t ideal, but it was better than letting Eugene claim them because she didn’t have them out before the last day of the month.

She turned and squeaked at finding him less than a step behind her. Getting up close and personal with Eugene was like flipping TV channels and having the remote die on the Zit Squeezer channel. With a shudder, she jumped out of the way.

Eugene was as startled as she was and wheezed with a gurgling sound. Mercy rushed toward her room. She knew what was coming and hoped to be out of range when it happened. But the thick glob of snot that he expelled flew past her and plopped on the sidewalk in front of her door.

Gee, my own slip-and-slide, she remarked.

Ha, ha. That’s a good one, Miss Hazeldine!

That did it! She whirled and placed her hands on her hips. What do you want, Eugene?

Me? His face contorted into a scary/comical expression that she guessed was his guileless impression.

You! She folded her arms and tilted her head. What’s with the sudden interest in my well-being?

Uh. Eugene’s eyes shifted as he desperately looked for a distraction. Oh, look. There’s your boyfriend.

Mercy’s chin dropped to her chest as she closed her eyes and let out a breath of frustration. I don’t have a boyfriend.

A pair of arms slipped around her waist and she jumped in surprise.

Spencer said in her ear, If you keep talking like that, I’ll think you don’t like me.

Why was he pestering her now? Grr! She had things to do! Mercy removed his hands and turned, cocking a brow. You’re late. I’m nearly finished.

Sorry. I got tied up with my job. I’ll help you now, he offered with a grin, heading through the open doorway into her room.

She rolled her eyes. Perfect timing... like everything else in my life.

He passed her with a box and halted to kiss her cheek before taking the box to Loyal’s car. Mercy smiled and decided his timing wasn’t so bad after all. When they finished packing—

Splat!

She screeched when droplets from Eugene’s latest goober explosion splattered her bare ankles.

WHAT do you want? she yelled at him.

He stepped back, raising his palms to her. Don’t get mad!

Don’t get mad?

That never bothered you before, Eugene. Mercy moved to give Spencer more room and shouted, Bugs! when her foot slipped on the glob of snot.

I’m sorry! Don’t fall, Eugene shouted.

After regaining her footing, she peered at him sideways.

I’m not suing you, so quit worrying, she said. Now, if you’re done bothering me, I’ll finish up and turn in my key.

Eugene covered his mouth, lowered his head, and made noises but his words were inaudible.

What? I didn’t hear you. Mercy was puzzled at Eugene’s odd behavior.

Spencer stood in the doorway with a box, pausing when he saw her expression. They both watched Eugene shuffle his feet in obvious discomfort. But the question was why?

Won...stay, he mumbled.

Mercy turned to see if Spencer understood the garbled sentence.

Why are you grinning? she asked.

I think Eugene is asking if you’ll stay, he replied, nodding his head at the motel owner.

Is this a joke? she demanded. Because it’s not funny. I went to a lot of work getting Loyal to store my belongings.

No, ma’am, Eugene declared, his eyes wide and sincere. I wouldn’t joke about the motel.

Of course, you wouldn’t, she replied, her face turning red with impatience. You’ve got ten seconds to spit it out, er, tell me what’s going on before I find my bag of wool neps and dump them in the room. And don’t tell me I won’t get my cleaning deposit back! I already know you’re too cheap to refund it even though the room is cleaner now... What did you say?

He said please, Spencer interpreted.

Oh, my God! Mercy raised the back of her hand to her forehead and staggered a few steps, as though overcome.

Aw, don’t make fun of me, Eugene pleaded in a tone that Mercy had never heard him use before.

She quit goofing around and focused her attention on the distraught man.

I’m sorry, she apologized. What’s wrong, Eugene?

With tear-filled eyes he admitted, I have a problem and need your help.

Scary visions rolled through Mercy’s mind as she tried to imagine why he needed her help. Eugene had plenty of relatives and probably even a few friends, so why wasn’t he asking them? Spencer’s nudge brought her wandering attention back to Eugene as he revealed why he needed her assistance.

When he finished, Mercy didn’t know what to say. She cleared her throat.

So Shirlene wants another second honeymoon?

He hung his head with a sigh. Yeah. She’s been watchin’ that TV show about that Hugger family with all them kids. And now she’s got a hankerin’ for another baby!

Mercy didn’t understand the connection and was afraid to ask for details. Shirlene Mooney had a reputation as a man-eating, pants-chasing, woman-on-the-prowl and that was more than Mercy cared to know. But curiosity prompted her to ask, "So you’re having another second honeymoon? How many have you had?"

I guess about five now, Eugene said, scratching his whiskery chin. No, it’s six if you count our first second honeymoon. Shirlene’s daddy bought us a trip to Dollywood a year after we got married.

You went to Dollywood for your first second honeymoon? Mercy asked while Spencer warned her in a low voice, You should have left the lid on that one.

Eugene nodded. Yep. Soon as the shivaree wound down here in Sinful, we caught the bus to Tennessee.

Shivaree? she repeated, remembering to side-step just in time to avoid the tobacco spittle that strung out between Eugene and where she’d stood. Well, at least the mystery of the dark brown lines on the sidewalk was solved.

You’ll regret it, Spence insisted.

But Eugene had warmed to the subject and Mercy couldn’t have stopped him for less than a twenty-dollar bill. Since she didn’t have that much, she listened to him explain, Course, Shirlene was eight months pregnant and she was a mite short with the kinfolk who came to wish us well. I guess that’s a good thing because otherwise we wouldn’t have made the early bus and Shirlene needs her rest.

Mercy blinked at the mental picture of the Mooneys on their second honeymoon, with Shirlene eight months along, riding a bus.

"...and then the baby was born—a whole month early—right there on the bus on the way home. Ever since then Shirlene connects second honeymoons to