Wrapped Up In A Weeping Willow

by Tonya Kappes

  The can had a piece of paper crumpled up in it. She took it out and ran her hands over the wrinkles so she could read it.

  This is Poppy’s can of money. If found by someone other than Poppy, please give it to her. If Poppy finds this can, you know this is yours and everything on this old farm is too. Be sure to go see Virgil LeMasters.

  Virgil LeMasters? Harper wasn’t sure why the Coach would want her to go see Hudson Hollow’s only lawyer. He’s going to have to go on the list.

  She crumpled the note back up and stuck it in her pocket. The can was filled with several tens and twenties and a few hundreds. She didn’t know how much was there, only that she had enough to go to the store and get some groceries and a flashlight so she could go in the basement to turn the electrical breaker.

  She slid inside the Mustang. Before turning the car on, she took a minute to look around and let the memory of how she was the first one of her girlfriends to get her license and how many times they could’ve gotten caught causing trouble in this very car.

  She swallowed hard, also remembering how she had shunned those very friends. Their faces of disgust at Harper’s wedding to Rob were tattooed in her memory.

  The old Ford started right up. She put her hand on the floor gearshift.

  “Brett.” His name escaped her lips when she saw the gold heart-shaped locket and chain he had given her for graduation. She’d loved that necklace. She picked it up, ran her thumb over the inscription.

  No matter.

  He’d always told her that no matter how far away, no matter how much life took them apart, he’d always be there for her.

  Without thinking about it, she opened the locket and stared down at her eighteen-year-old self, smiling as Brett kissed her on the cheek. He had turned the camera around and taken the picture of them before a selfie was even a thing. The lake twinkled behind them. They had just made love before he snapped it.

  “I want a picture of how happy you look,” he had said to her, stroking her hair, caressing her body. They might’ve been teenagers but they had old souls.

  She opened the clasp and secured the locket around her neck, letting it dangle down. She put her palm on the locket, feeling the heat of the heart on her bare skin, finding herself wishing for simpler times. She tucked it under her shirt to hide it from public view.

  “Stop it,” she spat at herself. “I’m not that girl anymore.” She slammed the gearshift into drive.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ll be a yellow-bellied sap sucker! Is that you, Poppy Bailey, with those big dark roots?” The Southern drawl was one Harper couldn’t erase from her mind even if she tried.

  She turned around. Elizabeth Parker still had a heart-shaped face and cascade of red curls framing it.

  “I knew it was you.” Elizabeth chomped, chewing the life out of the piece of gum in her mouth. “Now, I don’t know a whole lot about fashion.” Elizabeth laughed in a jovial fashion. Harper wasn’t sure if it was an insult or not. “But I do know that you, Poppy, do not look good with black roots like that.” She grabbed Harper by the arm and pulled her close. “Come on down to the Hair Depot and I’ll fix that mess right on up.” She let go and winked.

  “You’re. . .” Harper was a little stunned that Elizabeth was doing hair.

  “A hairdresser?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Not everyone can get out of Hudson Hollow and turn their back on their lives.”

  That was definitely a dig. Harper’s lips thinned into a smile.

  “Not only am I a hairdresser,” Elizabeth wiggled her brows up in the air, “I own the joint.” Then she brought her hand up in front of Harper’s face, wiggling her fingers and showing off the small diamond ring on her ring finger. “And I’m engaged to Troy Simpson.” She grinned, still chewing every ounce of flavor out of her gum. “He still likes to hump like a rabbit.”

  “Oh.” Harper sighed. She kept her lips shut, though she remembered how Troy used to pull Elizabeth into corners and closets at all the high school parties. She knew how easy it was to slip back into the gossip trap of Hudson Hollow and she just wanted to spend a few days trying to figure out her life, not move back.

  “Look at that!” Elizabeth grabbed Harper’s hand and took a gander at the big ring on her finger. “You know, the girls were so put off by your wedding, but they were just jealous that you got out of Hudson Hollow. Not me. Huh-uh.” Elizabeth shook her head. Her curls wagged back and forth. “I’m happy with the shop and my life with Troy.” She winked.

  Elizabeth was never one not to speak her mind. She told it like it was and Harper loved her for it.

  “I . . . um . . .” Harper wasn’t sure what to say. Hadn’t the people around here seen her on the news? Maybe not, which Harper found would be in her favor.

  “I know.” Elizabeth hardly let Harper take a breath. “I’m guessing you are here to see the Coach. It’s awful. I mean, I hear he’s taken ill and real bad. And he is as bad as a criminal, breaking out of that Sunshine Home. I hears he’s driving your mama and daddy nuts, but I bet you know all that.” Her little button nose crinkled. She still had Harper’s hand in hers. “How are your mama and them?”

  “I just got into town and haven’t made my rounds.” Harper wasn’t sure how to approach her parents just yet. The thought of the disappointment on their faces, plus the fact that she hadn’t exactly kept in touch, weighed heavy on her mind.

  “Honey, for someone who has so much money with that big job you got, you sure don’t keep yourself up.” Elizabeth ran her finger over Harper’s chipped nails.

  Elizabeth’s phone chirped, saving Harper from making any sort of excuse. Elizabeth held a finger up to her.

  “Hello?” Elizabeth turned her back to take the call, but Harper could still hear her. “You ain’t gonna believe who is standing right in front of me. Poppy Bailey. Hand to Gawd.” Elizabeth stuck her hand in the air, as if she were talking to the person on the other end of the cell phone right in front of them. “Oh, yeah, Harper Ellington. Anyway, clear my schedule. She’s needin’ a makeover somethin’ awful. Just you wait ’til you see her.”

  Harper sucked in a deep breath and walked down the aisle of Walmart, which she’d thought was big enough not to run into someone when she decided to go there for groceries. She had a small basket tucked in the crook of her elbow with some bread, deli turkey, a bag of cat kibble, and a bottle of bleached blond hair dye.

  As Elizabeth gossiped to whomever, Harper made her way down the magazine aisle.

  “Shit.” She couldn’t help but cuss when she saw her picture on the cover of the Enquirer magazine. “Bitch,” she murmured, looking at the photo the girl in Pine Crest had snapped of her with her cell phone.

  That girl must’ve been the one to leak to the public where Harper had been sent. And the picture was far from flattering. As much as she hated to admit it, her dark roots did look bad. Elizabeth was right; Harper looked awful, and she wondered how many people had seen the magazine cover. Not that she cared about her appearance, but she didn’t want the media coming to Hudson Hollow. She wanted to be left alone and far away from Sid and Rob.

  “There you are!” Elizabeth power walked up the aisle.

  Quickly, Harper grabbed a handful of Duck’s Unlimited magazine and stuck them on top of the Enquirer, trying to hide the past few days’ from the customers of Walmart.

  “You are so lucky. I just so happen to have a free schedule today.” Elizabeth tugged on her arm. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get my hands on them roots.”

  Harper glanced at the covered magazine and bit her lip. She had an idea. She wanted to be as incognito as possible until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life.

  “Can you make me black-headed again?” Harper could go back dark and have a completely different look.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Elizabeth grinned from ear to ear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Harper had paid for her groceries and, happy no one else had noticed her, gotte
n in the Mustang and followed an eager Elizabeth. Harper found it odd that she drove a blue Toyota minivan.

  Hudson Hollow was still the same charming small southern town it always had been. Downtown was buzzing with people milling about. Main Street was lined with parked cars on both sides of the street, and it made Harper happy to see the economy was still thriving. The small, homegrown shops added local flavor for the tourists who came to stay at the lake. When her parents had opened the rental side of their realty business, the chamber of commerce and city council had had a special meeting to make an ordinance whereby all the chain stores and restaurants were able to build outside the city limits. This kept everyone happy and the southern charm in the city.

  Most of the shops had tentlike chalkboards on the sidewalk listing their daily specials, while others had café tables for people to sit a spell.

  Harper found herself waving back at the locals on the sidewalk waving at her as she passed. She felt like she was in the jamboree parade again, riding on the back of the Mustang, waving to the crowd as the Coach drove slowly behind the Horse Riding Club, making their way down Main Street to the south end of town, where they would have the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the fairgrounds to signal the beginning of summer. Harper found a sense of comfort in the memory and was surprised to find herself making a mental note to come next year.

  After Harper graduated from college and landed her first gig as a DJ, the mayor of Hudson Hollow had asked her to come ride in the annual parade. A local celebrity, he had called her. She did and had so much fun. It was the summer before she met Rob Ellington. After meeting him, she’d never looked back. She wished she had. A pang of guilt pierced her like a knife.

  Elizabeth, Scooter, and even Brett were harmless. She should’ve kept in touch, and now she wondered if it was too late.

  The Hair Depot was a small, yellow brick building on Oak Street off Main, with a train painted on one side that had puffs of smoke coming out of the smokestack.

  Harper parked the Mustang next to Elizabeth’s minivan.

  “Like my new ride?” Elizabeth ran her hand over the hood. “I figure if Troy has his way, he’ll try to knock me up right after we get married. He says he wants a baseball team full of Simpsons.” She shook her head. “Barefoot and pregnant, the way he wants me.”

  Harper noticed Elizabeth bit her lip and looked away from her.

  “Are you okay?” Harper reached out and touched Elizabeth, as if time had not passed. She withdrew her hand when Elizabeth looked at her. “Not that it’s any of my business.” Harper gave a slight sympathetic smile. “But I still care about you and I’m here if you need me.”

  “I’m fine.” Elizabeth shook her head and took a deep breath. Harper watched her do what they had been taught when growing up. She put a fake smile on her face and perked up. “It’s just so exciting.” Elizabeth put her hand on her heart. “I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to take all the excitement of being married. You know, I’ve dreamed of being a bride and now it’s here.” Elizabeth winked.

  Her words were unsettling in Harper’s gut. She hadn’t lived in Hudson Hollow for years now, but she did know Elizabeth, and something was not right.

  Troy Simpson was a downright dirty dog in high school. Harper was a little shocked Elizabeth would date someone like him, much less marry him. Troy sniffed after anyone with tits. Brett used to joke about how they would be gone for a baseball game and Troy would find time between innings to flirt and make out with girls from the other team. It used to make Harper so mad that Brett would hang out with him if she was hanging with her friends. Not that she thought Brett would cheat on her, but the opportunity was there, especially with Troy around.

  Harper followed Elizabeth into the shop. There was a small reception area to the right with two nice leather chairs. Between the chairs was a small glass table with issues of Southern Living magazine and Country Cottages on top.

  There was a young girl behind the counter answering the phone; Harper assumed she was the receptionist. Behind her were the open beauty stations. Three chairs on each side, six total. All of them were filled. The beauticians wore black snap-up capes and chitchatted away with their own clients in the chairs in front of them. It sounded like a beehive full of buzzing noise.

  A few of the clients looked as though they had on hot-pink helmets from the hot-pink hard perm curlers that were snapped in place.

  The far back wall had three of those too-hot-to-touch hooded hair dryers. They were filled with clients too. Harper hadn’t seen one of those in a long time. The spa she went to get her hair cut and colored had a dryer that circulated around her head in a counterclockwise motion.

  “Come on.” Elizabeth grabbed Harper by the arm and dragged her to the first chair on the right.

  Awkwardly, Harper stood next to the chair, which was occupied by a woman with tinfoil all over her head. Elizabeth unfolded a couple of the pieces, twisted the chair to get to the other side, and unfolded a couple more.

  “Billie Ann, it’s time to get you shampooed.” Elizabeth pointed to the back. “Go on in there and I’ll be right with ya.”

  Billie Ann got up and did as Elizabeth said, sitting down at the chair in the corner in front of the shampoo bowl.

  “You hang out right here for a minute. I’ve gotta get those foils out or all hell will break loose.” Elizabeth winked again.

  “Harper, is that you?” The woman next to Harper looked around. Her head looked like tinsel on a Christmas tree.

  “Aunt Pris!” Harper was so happy to see her aunt. And she had called Harper, Harper.

  Her Aunt Pris was her father’s sister. She was the local judge and always a supporter of Harper. She had even showed up at many of Harper’s live gigs when she was in New York and Aunt Pris had a judge’s convention.

  They hugged each other tight, both smiling at each other.

  “This is my famous niece, Mrs. Harper Ellington, the one and only sex talk radio host of Real Talk,” Aunt Pris bragged on Harper to the woman cutting her hair.

  The woman smiled politely. “Nice meeting you.”

  “You too.” Harper returned the greeting

  “What on earth are you doing in Hudson Hollow?” Aunt Pris shooed away the woman and stood up to embrace Harper.

  She was happy to see that her aunt was still the little rump roast she always was.

  “Your mama and daddy don’t know, do they?” Pris held her out at arm’s length. She took only one look at Harper and knew. She grabbed her again and hugged Harper tight. “Oh, honey.”

  Harper bit back the tears. There was so much she wanted to tell her aunt but couldn’t. Not here.

  Elizabeth walked back up with a clear bowl of purple stuff and a paintbrush. “I can’t stand looking at your hair a bit longer. I’ll be right back, Poppy.” Elizabeth patted Harper’s shoulder.

  “Harper is her name,” Aunt Pris called out, correcting Elizabeth, and sat back down to let the gal finish her appointment.

  “Oh, hell, she’ll always be Poppy around here, Pris.” Elizabeth grabbed a couple of towels from the shelf above the shampoo bowl and made them into a pillow for the nape of Billie’s neck to rest against.

  “Poppy is fine.” Poppy surprised herself as she heard the words leave her mouth. Elizabeth smiled and turned on the water. A burst came out of the sprayer onto Billie’s head.

  “Dee-amn! That’s hot!” Billie came out of the chair. The towels fell into the bowl. “I might be fat, but I ain’t the hog for the hog hunt, for Pete’s sake.”

  Poppy snickered, remembering all the nights she’d gone with the Coach to the hog hunts. She could still see and hear the dogs being unclipped from their leashes and run into the eerie woods in the black, dark night. The sizzling sound of boiling hot water in the large cast-iron kettle that hung from a steel rod on a tripod contraption blistered behind her, getting ready for the hog. When the dogs stopped barking, Poppy put her hands over her ears before the sound of a shotgun rang out into
the night. Before long, the men and dogs would come back with a wild hog. While the women were preparing the hog for the boiling kettle, the men would drink shots of bourbon and moonshine, bragging on their kill.

  “Well, then, Poppy,” Aunt Pris said, “welcome home. Can someone get Poppy a cup of coffee?” she asked, sitting back down in her chair. Her eyes gazed over Poppy’s face. “The coffee here is thicker than Mississippi mud, but it does the trick. We’ll have to go down to the Sleeping Bee Café for breakfast. It’s to die for.”

  “Thank you,” Poppy smiled kindly to the young girl who handed her a white coffee mug and let the chills on her arm from the memories recede. Poppy turned the mug until she found a spot that didn’t have a chip along the edge and took a sip. Aunt Pris was right: The coffee was thick and strong, but it tasted good because she hadn’t been asleep in almost twenty-four hours.

  Poppy smiled. “That sounds good. But what happened to Trudy’s?”

  “Poor gal. She’s was just getting too old to keep up with all the cooking and cleaning by herself. She was too damn proud to let anyone help her and she wasn’t about to give up them old family recipes.” Aunt Pris shook her head.

  “I’d love to go to lunch one day.” Poppy suddenly wondered just how long she was going to be in Hudson Hollow. Not long, if she could help it.

  “Why haven’t you called your mama?” Aunt Pris was never one to beat around the bush, something that came with being a judge. “I’m sure she’s worried to death about you. I saw where you went crazy and burned down your own house. You know,” Aunt Pris tilted her head back to let the beautician finish her cut, “that is time in jail if you don’t get this cleared up.”

  “First off, Mama and I don’t see eye to eye on how I live my life. She and Daddy never really understood my job.” Poppy rested her elbow on the padded arm, leaning closer. “Secondly, Rob was cheating on me. I’m not crazy. They stuck me in Pine Crest saying I went on my own, which I didn’t. More importantly, why didn’t anyone tell me about the Coach?”