Wrapped Up In A Weeping Willow

by Tonya Kappes

  Poppy really wanted to get back to the NOW HIRING sign in the window and she was on her way to the courthouse.

  “Why, look who it is.” Chester Castle bolted around the corner of the building. He wore a pair of blue, blue jeans, a blue-and-white-plaid shirt that buttoned up the front, and a fedora. He was always a snappy dresser in a kooky kind of way. “If it ain’t Poppy Bailey, all grown up and sophisticatedlike. How the hell you doin’, darlin’?”

  “Good, Mr. Castle.” Poppy nodded, smiled, and put on her best honey voice. “I came into town to see you. I was hoping I could get a job from you because I have experience in the radio business.”

  “Does that mean you’re livin’ back in Hudson Hollow?” His eyes curious, his brows furrowed.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but I thought I could fill in for people.” Poppy bit her lip as any sort of income she thought she was going to get went out the door. “Plus I see the sign says you’re hiring.”

  She just might have to call Sid and tell her where she was. The little tin can of cash the Coach had left for her wasn’t going to pay the bills for long, and the money she had taken out of Rob’s urn was considered blood money to her now.

  “Darlin’, you’re just plumb out of luck. Your kind of radio isn’t fittin’ to air during breakfast time. Plus I don’t need them Baptists on my ass about your kinda talk.” Chester Castle had that aw-shucks look on his face. “I mean, I done lied once to them about why I was put in that hospital up in Lexington when they came to see me. Ain’t that right, Bunny?”

  “Sure is, sugar.” Bunny tapped Chester on the behind, something Poppy could’ve done without seeing.

  “I’m just not sure if I up and died right here, right now, on this very spot, if Peter would let me in them pearly gates them Baptist women are always preaching about. On the account that I lied and all,” he choked out, as if Poppy had put the hot chocolate in Bunny’s hands and forced Bunny to tilt the jar and spew the scolding hot substance on Chester Castle’s naked body.

  “I was only going to play old-time country.” Poppy felt as if she were dog-paddling to stay afloat. “Like George Jones, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette. Not all that talk radio.”

  “And your time on the air won’t sic them Baptists on me? I mean, they’d worry the balls off a pool table and I don’t have time for that.” Chester’s eyes narrowed. “Hell, they’re already on me about the Not Much.”

  “Hand to God, Mr. Castle.” Poppy put one hand in the air and the other on her heart. “In fact, we can tell them Baptist women that this is the divine hand of God on Hudson Hollow’s own lost soul, Poppy Rose Bailey.” Even Poppy was buying into what she was preaching right there on Main Street in front of HH FM. “Plus I know all the ins and outs of running my own program. You don’t even have to train me.”

  That was all Chester Castle needed to hear. He stuck out his old, wrinkly hand. “You got you a deal.” He gave her a firm handshake. “Now, I don’t know how you handled your contract in that big radio station, but around here a handshake is still a binding contract.”

  “Yes, sir.” Poppy smiled. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow morning.” He pointed to her and looked down his finger like the sights of a gun. “You be there five o’clock a.m. sharp and get off at eight o’clock sharp. You hear?”

  Poppy raised and lowered her chin twice. “I will be here.”

  Five a.m. was going to come fast and hard. She hadn’t been on the radio that early in years.

  “Why don’t you come on down to the Not Much tonight for a drink on me?” Chester asked.

  Poppy hesitated a moment, knowing her radio voice was not the best at five a.m., but it was a job and she needed money. She barfed out a big ol’, “Yes! A drink is exactly what I need.”

  “Then we’ll see you tonight.” Chester winked and smacked Bunny on the butt. “Come on, darlin’, we got things to do.”

  “Toodles!” Bunny wiggled her fingers over her shoulder with one hand while the other was entwined in Chester’s, and they marched through the door of the radio station.

  Poppy knocked on the window to get their attention. When they looked at her, she pointed to the NOW HIRING sign. Bunny grabbed it and ripped it in half and threw it straight up in the air. Poppy could hear Bunny’s boisterous giggle through the glass.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The old stone courthouse was the tallest building on Main Street and the center of Hudson Hollow. The steeple pointing straight up to the sky could be seen from one end of Main Street to the other.

  Corner Baptist Church was right next to it. The white brick church stood on the corner, proud for everyone to notice. There were two things Hudson Hollow citizens loved: God and politics, and in that order.

  Poppy noticed the basement door of the church was propped open with an old green electrical glass insulator that was used in the 1850s. Poppy couldn’t help but smile as the smell of homemade pasta sauce and meatballs floated out the door.

  No wonder Louetta Faulkner wasn’t at Poppy’s parents’ realty shop; she was busy cooking up the Wednesday night spaghetti dinner that Mary Louise expected Poppy to attend.

  “I thought I smelled one of those delicious tomatoes straight out of Louetta Faulkner’s garden.” Seeing Louetta with her apron tied around her waist gave Poopy the urge to run over to squeeze her tight. Seeing Louetta brought a smile to Poppy’s face.

  The courthouse closed at four o’clock, so she had a good hour before she had to get over there to check on the paperwork from the sale of the farm.

  “My, oh my.” Louetta put down the knife she was using to chop up the pile of tomatoes on the stainless-steel counter in the church kitchen and clapped her hands together. She stood just under five feet. Her silver hair was spun in tight curls around her head and her little wire-rimmed glasses were pushed up on the bridge of her nose. She was a spry old woman and never let age catch up to her. “If I didn’t believe my own eyes, I’d think the good Lord was playing a joke on poor old Louetta. Gul, you better git over here and hug your Louetta.”

  Louetta Faulkner always referred to herself in the third person. Poppy found it funny, even now, well into her adulthood. Louetta had become as much a member of the family to Poppy as Aunt Pris was.

  There was a twenty-minute gap between Sunday school and church, and Louetta would grab a young Poppy’s hand and say, “You come with Louetta. We’ll go down to the Sleeping Bee Café and grab a fountain drink from the soda jerk.”

  It was about the only thing Poppy enjoyed about Sunday church: the twenty minutes of sitting on the round barstool at the counter of the Sleeping Bee and sucking down a cherry Coke. A real cherry Coke, with real cherry syrup, not the stuff made by the Coca-Cola Company.

  Poppy rushed over to Louetta and threw her arms around her like she should’ve done her mama. Louetta hugged Poppy with a proper hug, the kind with two arms wrapped tightly around the other person and a little squeeze. A real hug.

  Poppy’s insides burst open and a little whimper escaped her, along with a stray tear.

  “Now, now.” Louetta still had a good hold on Poppy. Her full hand patted Poppy’s back. “You’re home now, gul. You don’t have to pretend to be nobody anymore.”

  Poppy gulped and pulled away. She looked into Louetta’s eyes, where she had always found comfort, just as she did from the willow tree. Louetta always said the right things to Poppy, as if she could look straight into her soul.

  “I’m fine.” Poppy waved off her sudden outburst of sadness. “I’m so happy to see you.” Poppy picked up the most perfect red tomato and held it out in her palm. “I haven’t had a good tomato since God knows how long.”

  “Since we are in God’s house, how fittin’ is it for you to have one right now?” Louetta grabbed the tomato out of Poppy’s hand. “How you want it? Fried? Baked? Stewed? Congealed?” Her brows wiggled. “Now, if you want congealed, it will take a day.”

  Poppy’s mouth watered. Louetta made t
he best congealed tomato salad with lemon mayonnaise.

  “You know what.” Louetta winked. “I’m agonna teach you how to make my congealed salad.”

  “You will?” The excitement surprised even Poppy.

  “Um-hmm.” Louetta nodded and started dicing up more tomatoes. “But for now, we have got to get the pasta sauce ready for tonight’s spaghetti dinner. And if I recall, you eat a lot of my sauce, so I better make more.”

  “Yes, you better.” Poppy had decided right then that she wasn’t going to fight against the internal warmth she was feeling.

  She wasn’t quite sure if it was the very place she had been running from that was giving her the warm fuzzies or if it was just knowing the routine around here when her life was nothing but a jumbled mess with no routine in sight.

  Without a word, Poppy grabbed a knife, and for the next fifteen minutes, Louetta and Poppy stood side-by-side, dicing the bushel basket of tomatoes Louetta had brought from her garden, while Louetta softly sang “In the Sweet By and By.”

  “Where was you headed before here? To see your mama, I hope.” Louetta brought Poppy’s attention to the clock.

  “Oh, gosh.” Poppy picked up the towel and rubbed her hands off. With a quick kiss to Louetta’s forehead, she headed toward the door. “I’ve got to go to the courthouse before it closes. I’ll fill you in on all the details later.”

  With a quick wave, Poppy rushed up the steps of the church kitchen basement door and over to the marble steps of the courthouse.

  The leaded glass doors were still just as heavy as she had remembered. She tugged with all her might before the tension gave to someone pushing against it.

  “Poppy.” Brett’s honey-colored skin glistened. He took the edge of his dark shirt and pulled it up to his brow, brushing off the droplets of sweat. “Air conditioning is out in there.”

  Poppy swallowed. You sure have turned into a good-looking man; her mind wasn’t letting her think coherently. Brett certainly didn’t have those kinds of man muscles when he was a teenager and when she left Hudson Hollow.

  “Not to mention I probably stink because I was out at Quinn’s farm helping their heifer with a breach birth.” He rambled, and she was glad because she didn’t have to sound like a babbling fool. “But obviously it wasn’t here. I mean I’m here. . .” He stopped himself. “I guess you don’t care why I’m here.” He smiled. She could see his lip quiver, as if she were making him nervous.

  “The kittens are good.” Poppy’s mouth decided to open and not listen to her brain, which was telling her to tell him good-bye. “And the mama cat.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “I can’t keep her in food. She eats so much.”

  “That’s what happens when she’s feeding all those kittens.” He gave her an intimate smile filled with brightness. “I just might have a home for them too.”

  “Really?” This was great news. Poppy had wondered what she was going to do with them when she left town. There was no way Mary Louise was going to take them. “The mom too?”

  “The mom?” Brett looked confused. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I just assumed you were going to keep her.”

  “I can’t take her with me.” Poppy sucked in a breath. “I mean—” She stopped herself and looked into his eyes. She had seen that tinge of sadness before.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shook his head. “Of course you can’t take her. You’re only here for a few days, right?”

  “I’m not sure.” He had asked her a question that was more powerful than a loaded gun and any minute the trigger just might go off. It was her cue to go. “I’ve got some business to take care of before they close.” She pointed to the glass door Brett was still holding open with his backside.

  “Yeah.” His lip curled up in a half grin that stopped shy of his eyes.

  “Will I see you at the spaghetti dinner?” she blurted out.

  “You’re coming to church tonight?” he asked.

  “Like I have a choice.” She playfully nudged at him with her elbow.

  His body drew back, as though he were sucking his belly button to his spine, avoiding her touch. She could take a hint. He wanted nothing to do with her and she didn’t blame him. He was no different from Elizabeth and Lily. She’d done him just as wrong as she’d done them.

  “If not, please let me know about who might want the kittens.” It seemed to be a good ending to their conversation. Nothing set in stone on whether he’d be there or not.

  Brett didn’t respond to her. He simply held the door open for her to walk through and gave her a thin-lipped smile.

  The heat inside the courthouse overcame Poppy, and she immediately began to sweat. Even the marble walls seemed to be sweating from the heat. Every room was just as she had remembered. There were four hallways sprouting out from the rotunda. In the middle was a statue of the founder of Hudson Hollow, Thomas C. Hudson, and on the perimeter were benches. Normally, the benches were filled with the old-timers of Hudson Hollow, shooting the breeze in the cool building, but not today. The heat must’ve kept them away. At the end of each hall were the same sets of leaded glass doors to the outside world.

  The records room, where the deeds and bills of sale were kept, was down the east hallway. The simple brown sign hanging above the door told her it was still the same room.

  The clerk behind the desk looked up when Poppy shuffled in.

  “How can I help you?” She looked at Poppy.

  “I’ve come to see about the sale of the old Nelson farm.” Poppy wasn’t sure what papers she needed; she only knew she needed the name of the purchaser.

  “That sale happened last week and they haven’t sent the papers yet.” The young clerk smiled. “We’re all excited, though. It was one of them blind bids, so we can’t wait to see what it sold for.”

  “Do you know when to expect it?” Poppy asked. She continued when she noticed the clerk looking her over suspiciously. “I’m the granddaughter and I was out of town when the sale happened. I’d like to know who bought it.”

  “Sometime today or tomorrow. Vicky Sue hasn’t brought the mail by today.” The girl’s head jerked back. She ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook and grabbed a pen out of the plastic cup on her desk. She walked over to the counter where Poppy was standing. “Here.” She shoved the pen and paper toward Poppy. “Give me your name and number and I’ll give you a holler when it comes through. It’s the talk of the town.” The girl kept talking as Poppy wrote her name down. “I hear they are gonna build condos overlooking the Hudson Hollow Lake and they are gonna be expensive.”

  Poppy’s eyes slide up to the girl. Build condos? Poppy’s heart started beating so hard she could barely breathe.

  “Condos?” The awful word escaped her lips in a gasp. The thought of losing the farm and her beloved weeping willow to condos couldn’t have hurt her any worse than a shot to the heart.

  “You all right?” The girl looked at Poppy funny. “You are sweatin’ like a whore in church.”

  “I’m fine.” Poppy shrugged her off, knowing she had to get out of there and get some air. “I don’t have a phone, but my mama lives here.” Poppy scribbled Mary Louise’s name and number on the paper and handed it to the girl.

  The girl looked at it. The clerk’s homely face rearranged itself into a grin.

  “I’ll be damned.” The girl gave Poppy the once-over again. “You’re that Sex Talk girl everyone in town’s talking about.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us.” Poppy looked at the girl through hooded eyes.

  “Oh, yea.” The girl nodded. “I’ll give your mama a call when I get the papers.”

  “Great.” Poppy smiled, relieved that she might get some answers.

  The girl stood at the counter and Poppy could feel the girl staring at her as she walked out the door. Poppy hurried back to the rotunda and down the north hall, where the courtroom was. Surely Aunt Pris knew something about the sale and how to stop anyone from building condominiums.
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  The doors to the courtroom were closed, which meant her aunt was on the bench. She pulled on the long, gold handles and opened the heavy wooden doors slightly, peeking her head inside.

  She slipped in when she heard her aunt bang the gavel, siding with the defendant over some sort of dog dispute and sat in the back row.

  “Court is dismissed for the day.” Pris made eye contact with Poppy. She looked over at the clerk. “Please add the rest of today’s docket to the morning and let the lawyers know I’ll be running about an hour behind tomorrow.” She leaned over and whispered something to the clerk, who looked back at Poppy, nodded, and jotted down something in a notebook.

  “All rise,” the clerk yelled and stood up tall. The room shuffled to standing with low murmurs as Aunt Pris left the bench. “Poppy Bailey, you can come with me.”

  Poppy waited until the room had cleared out and made her way up to the front. The clerk pushed open the small wooden gate between the bench and the public, letting Poppy walk on through.

  “Go through that door over yonder.” She pointed to the door left of the bench. “That’s your aunt’s office. She’s waiting for you in there.”

  “Thank you,” Poppy politely said and went where she was told.

  Aunt Pris already had her judge’s gown off and hung up on a hanger on the curtain rod of her office window.

  “Hey there!” Aunt Pris smiled and rushed over to hug Poppy. “I’m so glad you stopped by. I hope you’ll tell me you’ve stopped by your mama and daddy’s.”

  “I did.” Poppy was glad she could make someone happy today. “I stopped by the office, and of course Mama put me to work before she hugged me.”

  “What do you want her to do, Poppy? Let you waller in your own slop?” Aunt Pris told her like it was. “You’re stronger than that. Hell, you left her with nothing and made something big out of yourself. You need to stop wandering around aimlessly and figure out what you’re gonna do. Starting with a divorce.”