The Sweet Spot

by Joan Livingston

  “I heard.”

  “He’s drinking and doing worse since. I talked with Sharon about it. That was a mistake.” He blew air into the phone. “He thinks I’m against him. He was here for a few minutes getting some of his stuff before he took off again. He kept saying he saw ya.”

  “What’s he talking about? I didn’t leave my road after we came home from the parade. I did take Amber into town later to see the fireworks. That’s all. I didn’t see Walker. Is he talking about the parade when he was there with his boys?”

  “I dunno. He kept yakking about you and Harlan Doyle swimming together. It didn’t make any sense.”

  She sighed.

  “He must’ve seen us at the river. Amber was with us,” she said. “Hold on a minute.”

  Edie pulled back the curtain and was relieved when she didn’t see Walker’s truck. She put down the phone to check the other side of the house. She shook her head. Walker was in a new spot.

  She lifted the receiver to her ear.

  “He’s parked outside.”

  “He’s what?”

  “He does it every night. He just sits there for hours,” she told Dean, her words catching. “I lock my windows and doors.”

  “Edie, that’s not right.”

  “What else did Walker say?”

  “More stupid shit. About you being his. Some other stuff. I don’t wanna scare you, Edie. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he doesn’t wanna listen.”

  “Dean, I should never have gone with him.” Her words were long and mournful.

  “It’s what he’s always wanted, Edie.” There was the click of a lighter. Dean inhaled and exhaled. “You should’ve heard him when we were kids.”

  Edie remembered Gil teasing her, “I believe Walker loves you more than me,” and her response was, “I only love you.”

  She was so serious Gil kissed her.

  “Please, stop,” Edie told Dean.

  He didn’t.

  “After Gil died, he was so pissed he married Sharon. He used to cheat on her somethin’ awful.” Dean blew smoke in a windy stream. “You were different. You made him happy. He used to tell me things.” His voice fell. “He felt like shit after he hurt you. He knew he blew it. All he talks about now is finding ways to get you back.”

  “It’s not gonna happen,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry, Dean. He won’t come in, and Pop’s sleeping next door if I need him. I’m gonna hang up now.” She paused. “Thanks for calling.”

  Edie wandered through the dark house, quiet except for the refrigerator’s motor and the well’s water pump cycling in the cellar. It was too hot to lock the windows, but maybe she should, at least the ones easy to reach from the ground.

  A swarm of fireflies sparked near her bedroom window, and the moon, although waning, gave her enough light to see Walker’s pickup a short distance on the road. She chose another window for a clearer view. Walker’s head was tipped back against the seat. She thought of what Dean said and got her sneakers.

  Edie slipped around the back of the house, past where her aunt’s dog was buried, to a large tree near the road. The air rang with insects.

  She studied Walker, who appeared to have not moved since she saw him from her house. She stepped closer, peeking carefully through the passenger window. She ducked when his eyes opened briefly.

  Walker snored with his mouth open. His fine jaw was elongated as his head tipped back against the seat. The neck of a liquor bottle rested against his thigh, its contents nearly gone. He appeared harmless, almost comical, passed out like that, and she almost smiled until she saw a handgun on the seat. Its handle was within Walker’s reach. Edie shrank behind a tree when Walker swiped at the insects biting his face. She took a deep breath and stepped as quickly as she could without making a sound.

  Back inside, Edie locked the doors and windows, except for the ones in her daughter’s room. Walker wouldn’t be able to break in there without her hearing him. She got in bed with Amber. She pulled a sheet over them. Tonight she took her to see the fireworks, like a good mother would. Her daughter was leaving soon for sleepover camp, thanks to her in-laws.

  Edie put her arm protectively over the sleeping girl. She kept waiting, listening, and hoping Walker didn’t find a way in until she, too, fell asleep.

  A Heart Sour And Dark

  Walker sat on an upholstered chair he dragged from inside the camp onto the dock. His feet rested on a wooden crate turned upside down. By his best guess, it was around three. He must have left his watch at Ray’s Tavern, and he supposed the next time he went he’d find it on some drunk’s wrist. He didn’t care. It was only a gift from his parents.

  He drank, first coffee then beer, thought about fishing, but did nothing about it. He couldn’t recall when he last ate a full meal. Maybe he’d drive to the Lookout Bar and Grille to get dinner, but he’d have to clean up first.

  Two speedboats flared across the lake, slapping water against the bottom of the dock’s boards. Lots of people appeared to have taken the week off. He needed a vacation, too.

  Walker pulled a joint from the breast pocket of his unbuttoned flannel shirt. He had been here since the Fourth of July. He only went back once to check on the crew, but now he was staying put.

  He slept most of yesterday. He didn’t know he was so tired. He probably would have kept sleeping, except a woodpecker drummed its beak against a tree. He went outside to take a leak, amused to find the sun past its highest point in the sky.

  Later, he stopped at Ray’s. The woman from the other time found him quickly. He couldn’t remember her name, but she was satisfied to be called “darlin’.” He would have taken her out to his truck, but she smelled like dead fish, and he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. He bought her a drink and left.

  Walker squinted at the sun reflecting off the lake. He squeezed the joint between his lips and reached for the framed black-and-white photograph on the dock. The glass was gone. Two boys posed with rifles. They wore plaid jackets and furry hats with flaps over their ears. When he and Edie were here, she got excited when she recognized Gil and him in the photo. They had that stupid fight, and she took off.

  “What the hell was I thinking?” he said out loud.

  Walker nodded slowly. He planned to fix up this camp, make it year-round, and turn it into a real home. He bet Edie would like it here, nice and quiet, her girl, too. His boys could visit on the weekends. They’d be his happy, little family.

  He took one last look at the photo and flung it far into the lake. He couldn’t compete with his brother even dead.

  Walker’s head fell back against the chair. He took another hit from the joint. He and Gil tried once to see how far they could swim across the lake, and their old man had to fetch them in the canoe before they drowned. He thought it might not be a bad way to go. He could just strip and swim until he got so tired he couldn’t stay afloat. In the end, though, it seemed too much of an effort.

  A truck pulled into his driveway. From the rattling muffler, he knew it belonged to Dean, who had put off fixing it for over a month now. The truck door slammed, and Dean’s boots thudded over the packed dirt and dock. Walker cocked his head.

  “You seem rather comfortable there,” Dean said.

  Walker crossed his ankles, the toes of his cowboy boots spread in a V. He offered the last of the joint to Dean, but his friend eyed the beer can on the deck.

  “Want one? There’s more in the water. Sorry, it’s as cold as it’s gonna get.”

  “You?”

  “Sure. See the fishnet over there?”

  Dean retrieved two cans of beer from the lake and tossed him one. Walker used his foot to push the crate toward his friend. He flicked the roach into the water.

  “Take a load off your feet.”

  “Thanks, Walker.”

  Dean popped the can and sat do
wn. He took a drink. Walker shifted in his chair. Last he saw Dean, he stopped by the job site, where his crew sheathed an addition’s frame with plywood. Dean was in charge, and after a while, Walker told them, “I guess I’m not needed,” and he drove away.

  “I’m figuring you didn’t drive all this way for a friendly conversation and a warm beer,” Walker said. “You look too worried for that.”

  Dean cleared his throat.

  “You’re right. Job’s going okay, but I need some money to pay the crew and lumberyard.” He paused. “Sharon called about the mortgage.”

  Walker listened with some interest. He didn’t want to go back, but he wasn’t about to throw away his business or his house. He worked too hard for that.

  “I’ll give you a check before you leave. I’ll put a little extra in it for your trouble.”

  Dean gave him a grateful smile.

  “That’s good, Walker, real good.”

  Walker studied his friend’s unshaven face, checking for signs he hurt him when he punched him back at his trailer. He found only a bruised cheek.

  “I apologize about the other day. I acted like a real asshole.”

  “It’s okay.” Dean’s face crinkled. “By the way, your boys keep calling.”

  Walker finished the beer.

  “Yeah? What about Edie?”

  “Jesus, Walker, I don’t wanna talk about her.”

  “I guess you don’t, but she pretty much drowns out everything else for me.” He reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. “I used to hate Gil for marrying her. I was almost glad he got killed, and I loved my brother. Pretty sick, huh?” He waved the unlit cigarette. “You don’t have to answer.”

  The bottom of the crate scraped against the boards as Dean plucked two more beers from the water.

  “Gil’s the only one who’d understand how I feel about her,” Walker said. “My parents sure as hell don’t.” His voice faded as he lit the butt. “She always dressed up nice for me. Her hair shined and smelled good. When she laughed, the sound bubbled up from a sweet spot inside her.” He took a drag. “You ever see the way she talks with the people in the store? I’ve seen her give an old barfly at the Do her ear for an hour. She lights up everything and everybody, including me. That’s why my brother loved her. That’s why. Jesus, the last time he was home, he didn’t want to leave her for a minute. I had to shame him to get him up here with me.”

  Walker shook his head and snorted.

  “Gil and I spent the night drinking and talkin’ about old times. He was afraid for Edie and the baby while he was away. He wanted me to watch out for her.” The corners of his mouth turned upward. “We fried up steaks and went skinny-dipping. God, that water was cold.”

  He laughed, and Dean joined him.

  “Two days later, I drove Gil to the bus station. He was on his way to Vietnam. Edie came with us.” Walker murmured. “She was trying to give my brother a good sendoff, but I knew she was scared to death for him. At the station, Gil reminded me all over again to take care of her until he got back.” He clicked his tongue. “My brother was somethin’ else. He thought of everybody else first. I sure ain’t like that.” His voice trailed off. “You should’ve seen those two. I lost count how many times they kissed, and after, when the bus was moving, she ran with it, waving and crying until she reached the street. It just killed me.”

  “Yeah, Walker, everybody took it hard when Gil died.”

  “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the way she loved him.”

  Walker spoke this way until the sun slipped behind the trees on the far edge of the lake. Everything around him was heavy and slow. He couldn’t move.

  Finally, he let Dean go, with a check and a pledge to see him soon.

  A Dazzling Anger

  Walker asked the bartender at Ray’s Tavern if he could use the phone, but the man said no for the second time. He rubbed the back of his neck. He thought he was on decent terms with the guy, spending money here, but to no advantage, it appeared, at this dump.

  “No long distance calls,” the bartender growled.

  “Here’s five bucks. Three minutes. That’s all I need. It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.”

  The bartender stood with arms crossed over his round gut while Walker twisted a book of matches. He came here reasonably drunk from the Lookout Bar and Grille, where he ate dinner and downed shots of tequila.

  He didn’t know why he kept coming back to this hick dive. He was already sick of its clientele, an unremarkable group that asked the same questions and told the same jokes as if they had forgotten the last time they said them. A fight broke out one night when one drunk was sure another farted next to him on purpose. The woman was still friendly, but only because she was guaranteed a free drink. She liked to grope him and lick his ear, but Walker wasn’t interested. He was less keen on the other hags who hung here.

  Tonight Walker saw a woman at the Lookout who reminded him so much of Edie he used the restaurant’s pay phone to call her. His back was to the room when he dialed the numbers. His free hand was flat on the wall as if he were guarding the phone. When Edie answered, her hello struck such a tender spot he began to cry. She knew what was going on, because she said his name in a hollow whisper that snatched his voice. He hung up the phone and drove to Ray’s.

  Walker wanted another try. He’d let Edie know he was living at his camp, that he needed her to save him, that his heart felt sour and dark.

  “I’ll give you ten bucks for a three-minute call,” he told the bartender.

  “Keep your money. I ain’t lettin’ you use the phone.”

  The drinkers’ heads swung from one man to the other.

  “It’s only Conwell. Not too far.”

  “Listen. If it’s so damn important why don’t you drive there?” The bartender shoved his thumb toward the door. “You know what? I’m sick of your face. Time for you to hit the road.”

  Walker threw a bill on the bar’s top.

  “Shit, here’s a twenty. How about thirty bucks?”

  “Asshole, you’re really pissing me off.” The bartender whistled sharply through his teeth and nodded at a large man who came from out back. “Get this son of a bitch outta here.”

  The man hustled Walker from the building and dumped him on the parking lot’s dirt. He stood there with crossed arms, warning Walker what would happen if he went back. Walker got to his feet and into the front seat of his truck to consider his options, but he thought of only one. He wanted to talk with Edie. Another chance. That was all.

  Then he passed out.

  Walker stayed that way for hours until the bartender rapped his knuckles against a window. He snorted awake when the driver’s door opened. The cab’s light confused him at first, but he got angry when he recognized the man. Beyond, the bar was dark, and no other vehicles were in the lot.

  “Hey, buster, you can’t sleep here. Move it.”

  The bartender shook his fist, but Walker was no longer too drunk to defend himself. He leaped from the truck and smacked the man across the jaw. The bartender took a swing, but it fell short. Walker laughed. He got up close, punching the bartender’s ribs. He felt a couple give and laughed again. This man would remember him whenever he sucked air for a while.

  The bartender was his height but built softer, and no one was around to protect him. Walker punched the man’s head with a hard knock then another. He was filled by such a dazzling anger it bordered on joy. It fueled his arms and fists. The man pleaded with him, but it was too late to stop, and when the bartender fell to the ground, Walker rammed the sharp toes of his cowboy boots against his head and body.

  Walker couldn’t make out the man in the darkness, but he heard a moan and a loud, wet gurgle until finally he was quiet.

  Fighting Fair

  The next day Edie glanced up from the sink behind
the store’s deli counter. Dean looked as if he was bringing bad news.

  “Somethin’ happen?”

  “Gotta minute?”

  She wiped her hands on a towel. She was ready to quit work anyway.

  Dean checked around the store before he spoke.

  “I went to see Walker yesterday at his camp. He’s acting really strange, Edie, like he’s given up on everything. He looks like shit. I bet he hasn’t been eating much.” He frowned. “He’s not the man we know.”

  Edie stared at the floor. She thought about Walker’s call last night. His sobs touched her. She pressed her lips.

  “What am I supposed to do?” she asked Dean.

  “Edie, just get him back here. He can stay with me. I bet he’ll listen to you.”

  “He scares me.”

  “You’re the only one he wants.”

  “What about Fred and Marie? They’re his parents.”

  “What’s the matter? Do you need to get your little girl?”

  “No, no, she’s away at camp.”

  “Edie, you know Gil would want you to do this for his brother.”

  “Shit, Dean, you’re not fighting fair.”

  A Black Hole

  It took Edie longer than she expected to reach the lake. She went home first, where she met Pop, who was picking up his twenty-two to shoot rats at the dump, and Aunt Leona, who flagged her down in her driveway, so she could talk about missing Amber. She didn’t tell them where she was going. They wouldn’t have let her.

  Edie thought about Walker. He was the one who drove her to the hospital when Amber was born. She couldn’t reach her father or Leona, and it was a wild ride, her labor coming on so hard and fast, she yelped and writhed in the front seat of his truck. Walker made his voice soft and steady as he tried to ease her from the pain.

  After Amber was born, Walker found Edie crying in her room, grieving for Gil. He let her sob in his arms, and then a nurse carried Amber into the room. The nurse showed the baby to Walker.

  “Mr. St. Claire, you have a beautiful, little girl,” she said, placing the baby in his arms.