“I said shut up.”
“I always thought there was a close family resemblance between you and Sharon, especially around the mouth. You know that mustache of hers? She plucks at those hairs and puts white crap on them, but they keep growing back.”
Buddy didn’t change his expression.
“Walker, you’re such an asshole,” he said. “What in the hell did my sister see in you anyway?”
“More than I ever saw in her.”
Best Man
Walker found Dean already up and dumping grounds in the coffee maker in the singlewide’s kitchenette. It was nearly noon.
“You look as shitty as I feel,” Dean said.
Walker tugged on his t-shirt. His head and body ached.
“That makes two of us. Got enough for me?” he asked as he stumbled to the bathroom.
He was finishing up when Dean yelled he had a phone call. It was one of his boys.
“Daddy? You coming to our game today? It’s the all-stars. We called and called yesterday, but nobody answered.”
Walker heard anxiousness in his son’s voice although right now he couldn’t tell who this one was. They looked, sounded, and acted so much alike. Fortunately, they wore numbers on their uniforms.
His boys asked him to come to their game. This could be a wicked setup by their mother, but maybe the boys needed their father. He worked hard, so they wouldn’t go without. He’d been at most of their baseball games and practices since they began hitting off a tee. Walker recalled the fun time they had last week at his camp, how they showed off for him. They even fought for his attention.
“You both want me to come? I’ll be there. What time does your game start?”
After he hung up, Walker formed a plan as he drank coffee and smoked. He knew he was going to make some lawyer richer, what with the divorce and, now, getting arrested. He and Dean had to go to court tomorrow. He felt obligated to help Dean. The man didn’t have to take his side last night, and they had been friends since they were kids, he, Dean, and Gil. Walker was the best man at both their weddings.
He remembered Gil and Edie’s wedding, how beautiful she was in her long dress made of white cotton lace. She carried a bouquet of tiny, pink roses with thin, white ribbons dangling nearly to the tops of her shoes. It was an odd detail for a man to remember, but he focused on her hands during the church service. The two of them, Gil and Edie, were so much in love. It hurt to see them happy.
Afterward in her aunt’s back yard, Walker wanted to stop Gil when it was time for them to leave for their honeymoon. Edie acted shy when Walker kissed her cheek then her closed lips. He felt like fighting them all off and stealing her away.
“He’d better be good to you,” Walker whispered, and Edie gave him a curious stare. “I mean it.”
Walker snuffed out his cigarette. He’d clean himself up and go to his boys’ game. He’d avoid his wife and any of her kin. He’d try to see Edie afterward. He’d make things right.
All Stars
Walker parked his truck near the ball field. He drank from the bottle stashed beneath his seat. He needed a pick-me-up before he ventured into the crowd of happy families, one more and another. He was ready.
He nodded when he saw his boys’ team throwing and catching. One of his sons, Randy, number three, the starting pitcher, was off to the side, warming up. Walker grinned. He cupped his hands around his mouth.
“How’s your fast ball today?” he called, and his boy’s game face changed into a son glad to see his dad. “Where’s your brother? Oh, I see him over there.”
Shane, number six, who played leftfield, talked with the coach. The boy was the best hitter on the team. If he made his two boys into one, he’d have an outstanding ballplayer, better than he ever was although he did teach them everything about the game. He managed to talk the coach into taking his boys a year early. There was no use having them still swat a ball off a tee.
Walker whistled sharply through his teeth, and Shane, recognizing the sound, twirled around. The brim of the boy’s baseball cap bobbed as he called back to him.
Walker checked the stands. His wife was with her family. She wore sunglasses as if she were some fat, has-been movie star. He saw no sign of Buddy Crocker. He must be out making the world a more miserable place.
He found a seat on a bench of planks built along the edge of the forest. Most people didn’t sit here because of the mosquitoes and the poor view, but Walker preferred the spot. He could smoke and stand to follow a play if he wanted without bothering anybody.
He looked to his left when he heard small feet pound the ground. Shane, number six, came running. He wrapped his arms around Walker.
“What’s up?” Walker said.
He looked down at his son, feeling a little choked by the hug. Tears were in the corners of the boy’s eyes.
“Dad, why’d you have to go?”
“Your mother and I don’t get along. Maybe she told you about it.”
“Ma said Aunt Edie is your girlfriend, and you didn’t love her anymore.”
“That’s what she told you? Your mother’s a real class act.” Walker grunted. “But don’t you and your brother worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll still see you when I can.” He raised the boy’s cap to ruffle his dark hair before he reached into his jeans pocket for a package of gum. “Give some to your brother.”
“Dad, you got hurt.”
Walker pointed to his bruised face.
“This? Eh, got into a small scrape with your Uncle Buddy. It’s nothing.”
“Ma says you got arrested.”
“She did? There’s just a little mix-up.” He raised his chin. “Looks like your coach wants you. Your game’s gonna start. I’ll be right here watching. Hit one for me, will ya?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
Walker kept standing as a guy holding a bullhorn announced the names of the starting lineups, and then a teenage girl squealed the national anthem as if she were in pain. He took his seat, but he wasn’t alone. His wife charged toward him, and in case Walker lost it, he supposed, one of her brothers although not the jerk cop who roughed him up last night. This brother, Jim, who worked on the town’s highway crew, was an okay guy. Sharon probably made him.
Walker stared straight ahead as the team captains did the coin toss. The light sparked off the coin when it spun and fell. The players stared at the dirt until the ump said his boys’ team would be home. Walker raised a fist.
“Hey, you, we gotta talk,” Sharon said.
He noticed the grass was brown in the outfield, probably because of the dry spring. The town should put some money into these fields. His boy playing leftfield would have to be careful about bad bounces out there.
“Walker, look at me.”
His other boy, Randy, a leftie, was on the mound. He raised a knee and brought his arms close to his chest the way Walker showed him. His practice pitch, right over the shoulder, made a nice pop into the catcher’s mitt, a dead-nuts strike. The catcher rose from his squat to send the ball back. Walker grunted his approval.
“I need to talk to you about money.”
Walker let Sharon fume. His eyes were nearly shut when he turned her way.
“What are you gonna do? Sic your dumb ass brother after me again. I know you had something to do with that. You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”
A smile flickered briefly on her lips. He wanted to slap it off.
“I’m smart all right.” She glanced at her brother. “What about money?”
“Send the bills to my office, and I’ll pay ’em.” Walker lit a cigarette. “I’ve been thinking this is a good time for you to go to work.”
“Go to work?”
“I’ll pay for the boys, but I’m not paying for you to sit on your fat ass.”
She huffed and moved around. Her brother didn
’t make a sound.
“I’m gonna get myself a lawyer.”
“You do that, sweetheart,” he said without any affection. “I’m not paying for that either.”
It was his son’s last practice pitch, and then the catcher threw the ball over the mound, where it got to the second baseman’s glove in one hop. The boys made high-pitched war hoops and slapped gloves. Walker jabbed his head toward the field.
“The boys asked me to come, and I wanna watch them play. I don’t appreciate you tellin’ ’em about you and me. They’re just little kids.”
Sharon paced on her tiny feet. It was amazing a woman so large could balance on them, but then cows walked on hooves. Of course, his wife wasn’t always like that. She was cute when she was younger, or he wouldn’t have had anything to do with her.
“By the way, I heard what you did in the store to Edie. Stay away from her. It’s not her fault we hate each other.”
“Right, be a jerk. Too bad she wants nothing to do with you no more.”
Walker made a low, dismissive laugh.
“Shut up, Sharon.”
The first player stepped into the batter’s box. He held his bat over his shoulder as he waited for the pitch. His boy was ready, too.
“Go ahead. Laugh.” Sharon’s head shook. “What’s the matter? Nothing to say? I’ve got plenty.”
Walker took a drag on his cigarette. It felt as if the smoke in his mouth came from a place deep inside like fire spreading along the roots of a dry, pine forest. If he could get away with it, he’d kill this woman. He didn’t care she was the mother to his sons. His boys would be better off without her.
“Did I tell you how much fun I had smashing those statues of yours? Shit, I pretended each one of those fuckers was you.”
Walker flicked the half-smoked butt near Sharon’s sandal, and he gave her a black look that sent her and her brother back to the bleachers.
At the bottom of the fifth inning, Walker leaned over the chain-link fence. His boys’ team was winning easily, so he figured he’d head out. His sons sat together on the home bench, their mouths working on large wads of gum. They smiled when he patted their heads.
“You two, good game. You boys know how to play baseball. Who showed you how?”
“You did,” they said in unison.
Chuckling, Walker slid his hand into his back pocket for his wallet and gave each a ten.
“Get yourselves some ice cream. You can keep the rest. I gotta get going.”
Randy, the pitcher, knelt on the bench, so he faced Walker.
“Dad, don’t go.”
Walker shook his head.
“Sorry, son,” he muttered as the crowd cheered for what was happening on the field.
Crazy Talk
Walker grunted when he sat next to his father on the patio of his parents’ home. His father drank a Seven and Seven. Moisture coated the cold glass, except where his fingers smeared it.
“Dad.”
“Son.”
His father watched Edie’s daughter play on a swing slung from the large, low bough of a maple tree on the far edge of the lawn. The girl twisted the ropes into a tight screw and made a happy shriek when she twirled with her head dipped back. The corner of Walker’s mouth twitched. He did the same thing when he was a boy.
“Makes me dizzy just seeing her,” his dad said with a fondness Walker rarely heard.
“She sure is pretty. She’s just like Edie at that age,” Walker said.
The ice in his father’s drink clinked when he brought the glass to his mouth.
“What’s this I hear about you and her?”
Walker squinted at his father although it hurt where Buddy Crocker hit him.
“I guess it depends on what you’ve been hearing.”
“Don’t give me that smart mouth stuff. Save it for that dopey friend of yours.” His father’s voice had a hard edge. “How come you didn’t tell us you and Sharon broke up? And this thing about Edie.”
Walker was trying to get a handle on his father when his mother came onto the patio. A wet stripe went across the front of her apron. She stood near his father’s chair, her hands wringing a dishtowel. She nodded at his father. He knew what the look meant. It was them against him.
“What can I say? We don’t get along. Never have. It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone, but I’m sorry you had to learn about it that way. Her coming into the store.”
“It was most embarrassing,” his mother said.
“I did try to make it work,” Walker said.
“Obviously, not hard enough. I mean you have two boys. Think about them,” his father said.
His mother made a small, dry cough.
“Every marriage has its troubles, Walker. You and Sharon could still work things out.”
“Yeah? Last night she had her brother, Buddy, arrest me. What do you think about that?”
His mother clutched the towel to her chest.
“Arrested? You?” she cried.
Walker gave her such a withering glare she went silent.
“It was a setup. I was coming back from the Do with Dean, and he stopped my truck. I hit him, but he tripped me to the ground first. I’m sure Sharon was behind it.” He bent forward. “He beat the crap outta me. See? See, what he did, Mom?”
Her fingers twisted the towel.
“What are people in town going to say?” she said.
“Jesus, Mom, is that all you ever care about?” His voice cracked. “Aren’t you gonna ask how I am?”
“Walker,” she said.
Walker clawed his chest, so tight he couldn’t breathe.
“Thanks a lot, Mom.” He pounded the arm of the lawn chair. “You know she tricked me into marrying her? Remember the miscarriage she supposedly had? It was a fake. Don’t look at me that way, Mom. She told me the other day. I’ve wasted my life so far with that horrible woman. I could’ve been with Edie all this time.”
The towel flicked as his mother’s hands flew up.
“Edie. Why does it have to be her? First, Gil, then you. It’s like she has a spell over you boys.”
Walker’s eyes were nearly shut.
“You think that’s what it is, Mom? You don’t think maybe I’ve loved her for a long time, but I didn’t do anything about it? Huh? I loved her before Gil did, but he’s the one who got her.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Walker,” his mother said.
“Edie makes me happy. She’s the only one. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna beg her to marry me, and that little girl over there’s gonna be mine. My daughter.” He pointed at Amber. “You both better get used to the idea.”
“Fred, try to talk some sense into him,” his mother said.
His father’s fist pounded the chair’s arm.
“That’s enough, Walker. You’re making your mother upset.”
“Dad, we’re talking about me right now. I’m the one upset. Me.” Walker thumbed his chest. “In case you forgot, you have two sons, and I’m the only one who’s still living.”
“Walker, stop it,” his father said.
“No.” He jumped to his feet. “It was always Gil this and Gil that. When he died, I could see it in your eyes, Mom. You, too, Dad. You wished I was the one. Admit it. Go ahead. Tell the truth for once. I dare you.”
His father’s lips twitched.
His mother cried.
“Why are you doing this?” she wailed.
“You know, Mom, I’ve seen you with Edie’s girl, holding her hand as you walk, the way you smile at her. I don’t remember you being like that to me even after Gil died. You had one son still alive, but you didn’t give a shit. Did you, Mom?”
“Calm down, Walker. This is crazy talk,” his father said.
Walker got to his feet and flung his chair again
st the house. His mother danced back, shouting his name. He stared through her. His father stood, and Walker rushed toward him, nearly bumping his chest.
“Crazy? You think I’m crazy?”
“Walker, we’re just worried about you. That’s all,” his father said.
“Well, don’t be. I’m doing just fine without you, Dad.” Walker shook his head. “I came here looking for a little support from you two for a change, but it seems like I came to the wrong house.”
Walker stepped off the patio in long, hard strides. He gave one glance back at his parents. His mother fled into the house. His father stayed on the patio, calling him back. Walker searched for Edie’s girl, but she was gone.
He left the yard, feeling hot and more lonesome than when he arrived.
Cornered
Monday morning, Walker spoke sparingly to Dean on the ride from the courthouse. He was hung over still from last night, but it was being in a place where Buddy Crocker was respected and he, a successful builder, treated like a low-life that silenced him. The charges against them sounded idiotic when they were read aloud because he didn’t get a chance to explain how the cop baited him.
Dean was so nervous in the courtroom that his leg jiggled as if it were a loose piece of machinery. He kept asking Walker questions, and because he couldn’t hear a darn thing, Walker had to repeat whatever was said in the courtroom. He and Dean pleaded not guilty, of course, and now he was in the market for a lawyer. He frowned when he thought about his name being in the paper. His mother was right about one thing. It’d be bad for business, and it’d make his enemies, including his wife and her family, happy.
“Hey, Dean, stop at the store for coffee,” he said loudly because Dean’s good ear was on the other side of the truck. “Let me buy you one. Get yourself something to eat, too, and put it on my tab.”
Walker threw his tie on the front seat and unbuttoned his white shirt, still creased from the package. He smelled the stink beneath his arms. The rest of the crew was supposed to be framing a porch. Without Dean or him, he wondered how much was getting done. They’d have to go back to Dean’s to change into work clothes, but it was on the way to the job site, the only break he cut so far today.
The Sweet Spot Page 14
