by Beth Flynn
“Hmph! You didn’t have a marriage. I lived with you, remember? I saw what you had, and it definitely wasn’t a marriage.”
I’d had enough. I couldn’t do this again. “What my marriage was or wasn’t is none of your business, Fancy.” I stood up abruptly and said, “It’s time for you to go. Take the glass with you.” She didn’t stand up, but instead set her drink on the table and started drumming the wood with her pointy pink nails.
“Barbara Jean, since I returned what is rightfully yours, I think you should do the same.”
I shook my head, wondering what nonsense she was going to vomit out next. “Do the same with what?”
She stood up and looked around the kitchen, and it occurred to me what she wanted.
I shot up out of my chair. “Oh no! You have some nerve coming here thinking you’re entitled to this house. You’re the one who insisted we sell it when Grandma died. You got half the profit from that, Fancy. I bought this house back from the bank after they repossessed it from the new owners. You aren’t entitled to it.”
She laughed. “I don’t want this house, Barbie. Of course not. I know it’s yours.” Her smile looked sincere. “I’m here for some of the things that were in it before it got sold. I never got around to getting everything.”
She was lying. It had taken her less than two days to get home after our grandmother passed, but once here, she wasted no time tearing through our grandparents’ personal belongings to see what was of value.
“You got everything, Fancy,” I told her.
“Not everything, Barbie. I know Darlene got here before me and packed some things up for you. Some of Granddaddy’s things.” She paused. “Some of Dad’s things.”
I frowned. “You already know what Dar saved for me. I told you when you came to live with Richard and me. I even showed you the note from Darlene that listed it all out.”
“I don’t think she told you about everything,” she said.
Exasperated, I looked at the ceiling. “Why don’t you just say it, Fancy. What do you want?”
“Fine!” she shouted. “I want Daddy’s Civil War coin collection. Half of it belongs to me.”
“Fancy, I haven’t seen that collection in years. It was here when I left for college and I can assure you it’s not in the box Darlene gave to me when I moved here.”
“I don’t believe you.” She thrust her chin in the air.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me. You can see for yourself.”
I stalked toward the living room and opened a tiny door beneath the stairway. I retrieved a brown cardboard box that was smaller than the one Fancy had brought. I held it out to her and said, “I looked through it when I moved back, but haven’t unpacked it yet. Everything Darlene took for me is in here. Look for yourself.”
She yanked it from my hands, swiftly walked to the couch, and sat down. She set the box on the coffee table and opened it. I watched as she rifled through it. “There is nothing but junk in here,” she complained.
“It’s not junk, Fancy. Those are things that belonged to Dad and Granddaddy. They may not have any monetary value, but they’re important.”
She smoothed her dress. “I don’t see how an old leather wallet that doesn’t have any cash in it”—her tone seethed with condescension— “holds any importance.”
“Ah…I think I’m beginning to see what’s going on.” I walked toward her, and bending over, closed the box. Picking it up I returned it to its spot underneath the stairs. After shutting the tiny door, I faced my sister. “The Richard well is almost dry. You’re looking for money. That’s why you came here. You think I have Dad’s coin collection. Well, I don’t have it, Fancy. And I never did. I can only surmise that Grandma sold it before she died. You can spend the rest of the day looking through every corner of this house if you want to. I’m not holding out on you.”
I watched her stiffen and her shoulders slumped. For a split second I thought she looked older than me.
“Why do you hate me so much, Barbie?” she asked, her mouth drooping.
“I don’t hate you, Fancy. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” I crossed my arms and looked away. My next admission would be painful, but true. “I didn’t even hate you when Grandma was so mean to me.”
“I don’t believe you,” she replied.
I gave her a level look. “If I hated you, you wouldn’t be living in my condo.”
“Then what is it?”
I waffled for a moment but decided she deserved the truth. “I have a difficult time respecting you, Fancy. I’m sorry, but I can’t respect someone who doesn’t respect themselves. You are a bright and beautiful woman. But, instead of relying on your intelligence and opting for an education, you’ve only ever relied on men. You see your value based on the material things men can provide. You’re worth so much more than the balance in some man’s bank account. Can’t you see that?”
I’d obviously struck a nerve because her back snapped into perfect posture again, and she jutted out her chin along with her oversized implants. She looked me up and down. “This is about respect?” she asked in a mocking tone. “You’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone else, haven’t you, Barbie?” I didn’t flinch as she scrutinized my stained t-shirt, tattered work jeans, and scuffed sneakers. Her eyes rested on my face, and she smirked at the lack of makeup. She took her time glancing around my living room.
“Your education and self-respect have done wonders for you, Sister. You live by yourself in the middle of nowhere in a house that smells like someone’s week-old laundry. You drive an old Jeep and you dress like a homeless person.”
I watched her swallow and wait for my retort. When I didn’t give one she huffed her way past me and charged out the front door, not bothering to close it behind her. She jumped into her car and peeled out, scattering dust and rocks all over my new garden.
I retrieved the box she’d delivered from the kitchen table and walked with it to the closet beneath the stairs. After opening the door, I crouched. Before closing the lid, I sifted through the contents again. A wave of sadness descended.
“I’m not sure what to do with you,” I sadly confessed to the red plastic bin that was filled with items nobody wanted.
I made room for it next to the cardboard box Darlene had saved for me, popped the plastic lid back in place, shut the door, and headed out to my garden to undo any damage Fancy’s dramatic retreat may have caused.
Chapter 7
Deliberate Choices
It was days later and I’d wandered into the only diner in Pumpkin Rest so I could have the place mostly to myself before the regular breakfast crowd showed up. After turning on my laptop and praying the Wi-Fi would be in a good mood, I balanced my checkbook online.
The diner hadn’t changed much in almost thirty years. The linoleum floor was cracked and yellowed, but spotless. The walls were freshly painted a bright sky blue to match the weathered vinyl booth and counter seats. Some sported duct tape where the vinyl was worn and starting to rip. The yellow and blue calico curtains at each window were faded, but clean. I kept an eye out for Darlene who was working the early shift at the gas station. I knew when she saw my Jeep she’d stop in before she had to clock in at six.
“Fancy meeting you here, darling,” she said as she approached me.
“Uh, that name!” I teased. She scooted into the booth and signaled the only waitress, Judy, for a cup of coffee while I briefly filled her in on my sister’s recent visit.
“Just promise me you’re not letting her get to you, Barbie. The last thing you needed was a visit from Frenita Anderson!”
“You know I never let Fancy get to me. I’m more put out that she would think I’d deliberately withhold Dad’s coin collection from her. Not to mention that her only concern was for its value. She doesn’t have a sentimental bone in her body.”
“So, what exactly did you tell her?” She didn’t meet my eyes but seemed intently focused on putting cream in her recent
ly delivered coffee.
“I told Fancy the truth. I remember when Grandma died, you sent me that letter and told me that you went to the house and boxed up some personal things you thought I’d want. You even listed them out for me. And how you stuck the box on a shelf in your pantry and it’s been there ever since until you gave it to me when I moved back here. When Fancy came to live with me and Richard she asked about that box and I pulled out the letter and showed it to her.”
“You kept my letter?” Darlene asked, her smile sweet.
“I kept all your letters, Dar. I wasn’t very good at reciprocating, but I couldn’t let myself part with them.” I swallowed my guilt and added, “And when she showed up the other day, I pulled the box out and showed her what was in it.”
I slowly shook my head. “I just realized something, Dar.”
“What?” She grasped her coffee cup with both hands and slouched forward. “That if you’d had that Civil War coin collection when she first moved in with you and Richard that she might not have made a move on your husband and ripped apart your marriage?” She raised a knowing brow.
“Yes,” I said in stunned wonder.
I watched Darlene swallow and look away.
“What is it, Dar? What aren’t you telling me?” I slowly closed my laptop and waited for her response.
Her eyes got misty. “Do you regret it? If you’d had a choice, would you have rather given her those coins and kept your marriage intact?”
Her question caught me off guard, but it didn’t take me long to come up with a truthful answer. I’d been giving a lot of thought concerning deliberate choices over the past several weeks. “No, Darlene. I don’t regret it. Fancy talked a lot of trash yesterday, but she did get one thing right. Richard and I didn’t have a healthy marriage. It was a façade.” I cocked my head to the side. “Why?”
She let out an audible breath and smiled. “Whew! I guess I did the right thing then. I knew it would be important to you and I promise it’s been in a safe place.” She took a sip of coffee and said, “I took that coin collection and it’s been tucked away in my bedroom closet ever since.”
“Darlene!” I practically yelled. But I wasn’t angry. I was relieved.
“I remembered that time I was at your house and your grandma had taken Fancy out shopping for a new dress. It was a month before our senior prom and she knew it and had no intention of getting you a dress.” Darlene’s face turned into an angry grimace. “She was always doing something like that on purpose. Fancy was about eleven and wasn’t in need of anything new to wear. We snooped that day. Do you remember?”
I nodded. “We found my father’s coin collection.” It was in a wooden box with layered trays. We’d just lifted the one tray out when we heard my grandmother’s car coming up the road. We put it away and I never got another chance to look through it again before I left for college.
“I remembered where we found it and I made sure I got it for you.” She bit her bottom lip before asking, “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad? I could kiss you!!” I whisper-yelled.
“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten around to telling you about it. Something told me to wait, and now I know why. You wouldn’t have deliberately lied to Fancy when she asked about it.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to bring it over to your place?”
I took a minute to answer. Half of that coin collection did belong to Fancy, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to figure out how to manage it. It had stayed safely in Darlene’s closet for all these years. A few more weeks or months wouldn’t be a problem. “Can you hold on to it for now?” I asked.
“Of course I can, Barbie.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve gotta run.”
Before I could say goodbye, she peered over my shoulder, and with a blush creeping its way up her neck, said, “This seat is warm and I’m sure Barbie wouldn’t mind the company.”
Before I could object to finishing my coffee with who could only be Dustin, I inhaled a whoosh of intoxicating air as Jake Chambers took Darlene’s seat and said, “I never got to buy you that cup of coffee.” He eyed my half-filled cup and said, “I hope you’ll let me pay for that one.”
Chapter 8
A Baseball Bat and Blueberry Pancakes
I was too caught off guard to object so I conceded. “Yeah, sure,” I told him followed by a quick, “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here though.”
“No problem. I’m used to eating here alone.” He was wearing a black tight-fitting t-shirt and the earring was back. I didn’t know what kind of pants he was wearing because he’d slid into the booth so fast, but I assumed they were jeans.
I heard Judy ask from behind me, “The usual, Jake?”
He gave a thumbs-up and said, “Yes, please,” with a pleasant smile.
“You come here a lot?” I asked as I removed my laptop from the table and set it next to me.
He gave me a lazy grin. “Isn’t that a pickup line?”
“If we were in a bar, I’d say yes. But considering we’re in a sixty-year-old diner in the middle of nowhere, I’m going to go with no. Just an honest inquiry.”
He chuckled and thanked Judy when she refilled my coffee and brought him a fresh cup.
“I come in about twice a week.” I pushed the cream and sugar closer but he politely shook his head. He took a sip of his coffee and asked, “Am I interrupting something important? Like work?”
“No,” I assured him. “I was balancing my checking account. Wi-Fi at my house is sporadic, but mostly nonexistent. It’s a tad better here so I like to come in once in a while when it’s not so busy and log on.” I didn’t mention that I was going to get an internet booster that would rectify the situation.
I must’ve frowned because he followed up with, “Was there a problem? With your account?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I’ll just have to admit to Darlene that she was right about something.” I lifted my mug to my lips and, after swallowing, explained. “I don’t pay much attention to my water bill, but Darlene had gotten on me about a leaky faucet. And she was right. There’s been a small spike in my payments for the last couple months. It’s nothing really. But I also noticed a pretty decent sized increase in my electric bill too. Makes me wonder if something is off there as well.”
“I’m sure if you call them they can straighten it out,” he said.
“Like I said, it’s nothing. The faucet isn’t leaking anymore. I’ll just wait and see what next month’s bill looks like.”
Was I actually discussing my utility bills with Jake Chambers?
After a few more minutes of idle pleasantries he must’ve noticed Judy bringing his food because he straightened up and moved his mug out of the way. She set his plate in front of him, along with pancake syrup. I saw what he was eating and my distaste must’ve been obvious.
“You don’t like pancakes?” he asked after thanking Judy.
“I love pancakes. I just don’t like blueberry pancakes,” I admitted.
“Why not?” he asked while pouring a healthy amount of syrup on them. “Allergic to them or just don’t like blueberries?”
I didn’t answer and he looked up. Shaking my head I told him, “No. I like blueberries and I’m not allergic to them.”
His face registered curiosity and I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never eaten blueberry pancakes before.” I knew my reply sounded lame, but I didn’t owe Jake Chambers an explanation.
“Then how do you know you don’t like them?” he questioned.
“I just know,” I barked a little more briskly than I intended.
He didn’t seem offended and instead of prying further he started cutting up his breakfast into man-sized bites. I changed the subject.
“I didn’t hear your motorcycle when you pulled up.”
His fork was full, and before putting it in his mouth, he said, “I drove my truck today.”
“I didn’t know you drove a truck.”
I heard someone say,
“Good morning, Doc,” and I turned to say hello. It was a local man I’d recently treated at the clinic and I was worried that he might start providing details of his latest ailment which included an itchy scrotum, but he tipped his cowboy hat and kept walking.
Jake had taken a bite of his breakfast and, after swallowing, said, “I love my bike, but it’s not very practical on some of these roads. I picked up a used F250 truck.” He pointed his fork toward the man’s retreating form. “You get that a lot?”
“Yeah, it’s one reason I like to come here super early.” I cocked my head to one side. “You’re not wearing your scrubs. Are you off today or working a later shift?”
He reached for his coffee. “I’m off. One of the guys had some personal business and asked me to trade with him. I have errands to run and planned on heading over to the Harley dealership for a bike part. Heard it might rain so I thought it better to take my truck.”
He must’ve been going to the same dealership where I’d bought the helmet for Dolly and the do-rag for him. “Thank you again for the do-rag. It was kind of you.”
I lowered my eyes to the mug tightly clasped between both of my hands. I didn’t want to talk about that day. I didn’t want to ask how his date went with Dolly. After all, I didn’t care. Right? I looked back at him and gave him a bright smile. “You’re more than welcome. I would’ve bought you a helmet too if I thought you’d wear it.”
He laughed and I started to fidget in my seat. He took notice of it and changed the subject.
“Your house is off the beaten path. Aren’t you ever afraid of being out there all alone? I’m not asking because you’re a woman. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself.”
I wondered how he knew I was alone, but quickly dismissed it. Everyone in Pumpkin Rest knew I lived by myself. It was an accurate assumption on his part. I thought about his observation before answering. “When you put it like that, I guess I should be, but I’ve always felt safe in Pumpkin Rest. Nothing bad ever happens here.”
