Stealing Taffy

by Susan Donovan

“Hmm.”

  “Are we done?” Fern looked around, standing and waving when she saw Gladys poke her head out the front door of Gateway Lanes, obviously happy to bring their talk to an end. “There’s Gladys. I better go.”

  “Fern.” Dante stood up as well. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

  She looked surprised, but took a moment to think. She began nodding emphatically. “Oh, yes I do.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “What did Tanyalee go and get herself mixed up in? Is she really a felon or was that lady some kind of wacko? Did Tanyalee ever serve time in prison? Because I’m havin’ a real hard time picturin’ that.”

  “Ah.” Dante adjusted his stance and searched for the best way to handle this. “You will need to ask Tanyalee directly. I can’t speak for her.”

  Fern held up her hands. “Hey, I was just tryin’ to get the actual facts ahead of time. She’s taking me for ice cream now so we can ‘talk,’ and I know she’s gonna offer me a load of nonsense.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  Fern laughed. “’Cause she lies sometimes. She told me you weren’t her boyfriend, and, come on! Anybody can see you are.”

  Dante cleared his throat. “Well, if you ask Tanyalee directly, you might be surprised by her answer. Why don’t you give her a chance?”

  Fern shrugged, noncommittally.

  “If you should remember anything, please let me know.”

  “Sure.” She stuck out her hand to shake Dante’s. “See ya ’round, and hey, thanks for being on my team.”

  * * *

  “Ya’ll want sprinkles on those?”

  Fern nodded even as Tanyalee politely shook her head no. The ice-cream guy grinned and poured a scoopful of brightly colored candy confetti over Fern’s order. He leaned out to hand it to her.

  “Take care now. Those triple dips are a handful, missy.”

  Fern glared. “My name ain’t ‘Missy.’”

  Tanyalee touched her shoulder and did that thing where she smiled and ran her words together when something wasn’t quite right.

  “Thankyousoverymuch!”

  Tanyalee hustled Fern out of the ice-cream shop, and all it took was one big lick of Rocky Road and sprinkles and she’d decided to forgive the man for calling her “missy.”

  Tanyalee started chatting away about how it was warm for an October evening in Bigler, and how the old corner ice-cream parlor would start selling hot chocolate by Halloween, and how it would be the best chocolate Fern had ever tasted—she guaranteed it. “All the kids come here on Halloween night after trick-or-treating for free hot chocolate and a costume contest. We’ll have to do that. And then, on the first official snow day of the school year, they do another giveaway. Everybody shows up after going sledding. We’ll have to do that, too.”

  Fern looked at Tanyalee out of the corner of her eye. Halloween? Snow days? She was making future plans with Fern, which was great. But Fern was so tired of people making promises they didn’t keep. Of people who lie. Or leave her.

  They walked side by side and Tanyalee veered off up some steps to an old rickety iron gate leading into a churchyard. Fern had been a little nervous around churches ever since her daddy took her to a revival where she was told she was possessed by devils. Fern told the lady preacher she had a screw loose, which the preacher said only proved her point. Fern hadn’t been to a church since.

  “We gonna get our demons cast out or something?” Fern took another lick and discovered her lips were coated with sprinkles. She noticed that Tanyalee was staring at her, all confusedlike. “You know, the way they do in church.”

  “Lord have mercy,” Tanyalee said, opening the gate for her. “No. We’re gonna do something a lot more fun than that.”

  They walked through a courtyard that was planted with all kinds of pretty mums and bushes and then on around back, where there was a little playground. Right in the middle was a big old metal swing set—the good kind—with real long chains and wide rubbery seats. Tanyalee sat in one and Fern sat in the other, and they moved back and forth as they ate their ice cream.

  This little ice-cream trip was supposed to be about Tanyalee’s criminal past, but so far it had only been about sprinkles and hot chocolate and sledding. She was beginning to think Tanyalee had chickened out. Fern decided to push things along.

  “Why does Viv call you ‘Taffy’?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a silly nickname she came up with when I was in kindergarten and it just seemed to stick.”

  “What’s it mean, though?”

  “You’d have to ask Viv.”

  “And now you’re a grown lady and you’re stuck with it?”

  She laughed. “It certainly appears that way.”

  Suddenly, Tanyalee looked up from her waffle cone, her eyes real determined. “The lady in the bowling alley was right, Fern. I was arrested and convicted of stealing and I was sentenced to probation.”

  Fern’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe it! “But, convicted?” She’d watched enough reruns of Law & Order to know how much trouble Tanyalee had gotten herself in. “Even my daddy never got convicted!”

  Fern must have hurt her feelings, because Tanyalee got real sad, and for the next few minutes Tanyalee told Fern about what she’d done. She tried to take a whole bunch of money from Granddaddy Garland and then got caught shoplifting and how she used to buy clothes when she was sad and how she would only be with boyfriends and fiancés who could buy her stuff. Then she said that she’d been real mean to her sister, Cheri, and stole her boyfriend just because she was jealous.

  It was all kind of complicated, and by the time Tanyalee finished, Fern had eaten her triple dip with sprinkles and had a real bad headache.

  “You were married to Cheri’s husband?”

  She nodded slowly. “Many years ago.”

  Fern squinted into the sunset. “Ain’t that confusing for your family?”

  Tanyalee laughed but shook her head. “Everybody knows J.J. and Cheri were always meant to be together, so nobody gets confused.”

  “Huh.” Fern pushed off from the dirt and began to swing a little higher. She liked how the back-and-forth of the swing made a clicking and squeaking sound, almost like Three-Gee when she snored. She liked the feel of the wind in her hair.

  Fern didn’t know why, exactly, but she started talking to Tanyalee about stuff, too, and it was stuff she’d never told nobody—not the CPS workers, or her teachers, or even Three-Gee. She told Tanyalee about how her mama ran off when she was a baby and nobody ever saw her again.

  “I ain’t even got a picture of her. All I’ve got is the bunny she gave me when I was real tiny.”

  Click. Creeeeak.

  “Your mama must have been very beautiful if you look anything like her.”

  “That’s what Gladys says.”

  Click. Creeeeak.

  Fern told Tanyalee about how her daddy walked around like he was lost all the time, like he couldn’t figure how to do the stuff most people seemed to do just fine—like paying bills and buying food and working at a job. He did read to her sometimes, and liked to play Monopoly and checkers with her, Fern told Tanyalee. But she also talked about the meth and the Spiveys and the tree house. She told Tanyalee all about how Dante was there, how he hardly said a word but kept an eye out for her, and how he saved her bunny the day he took her away from that awful place.

  Tanyalee stared at her, looking like she was about to cry.

  Click. Creeeeak.

  And right out of the blue, Tanyalee said, “I know how lonely it feels to lose your parents. Mine were killed when I was five, and I went to live with Aunt Viv, who’s really my great-aunt.”

  Fern’s eyeballs nearly popped out. Tanyalee was an orphan, just like Fern? It was almost too strange to believe! “I live with my great-grandmother!”

  “I know.” Tanyalee smiled.

  By that time, Tanyalee was swinging along with Fern, and they were kicking up into the air
, getting higher and higher. Fern started giggling and couldn’t seem to stop.

  Click, click. Creeeak, creeeak.

  On the way back to Tanyalee’s car, Fern told her one last thing. “It’s always been on me. I ain’t never been able to rely on nobody until Three-Gee and you and all your friends and family and stuff. The people in Bigler have been better to me than anyone ever has in all my life.”

  Tanyalee smiled down at her and put an arm around her shoulder. Fern hardly felt twitchy at all. “I’m glad you don’t mind hanging out with us, because I’ve got some news for you, Fern Bisbee.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re stuck with us—the whole lot. But you’re stuck with me most of all, because as long as you want me around, I’ll be there. I’ll be your friend when you’re Gladys’s age, if you want.”

  Fern looked up at her, worried. “Will I end up wearing spandex when I’m Gladys’s age?”

  Tanyalee tipped her head back and laughed. “Not if I can help it, you won’t.”

  On the car ride back to Three-Gee’s, Tanyalee got a little mushy. “You’re a very strong young woman, Fern. You’ve been through an awful lot, but I look at you and I see this brilliant and brave person. You can do anything you want with your life.”

  Fern gave it some thought. “You know, what I want most is to be happy and be around the people I love who love me back.”

  Tanyalee gasped and reached across the front seat for Fern’s hand. “See what I mean? You’re a genius, Miss Bisbee.”

  Chapter 20

  Wainright Miller emptied the safe and shoved his automatic pistol into his waistband. He grabbed his travel documents, keys, and laptop. Hell no, this wasn’t how he had planned it—but this was how it was.

  If he were going to survive, he’d have to adapt.

  Minutes ago, he’d learned that Spivey’s last two meth bozos had been murdered inside the walls of the Gaston County Jail. Cops had moved them there as a precautionary measure after that idiot meth cook got himself dead in the local lockup before his fingerprint ink was dry.

  Miller could do the math. He was now the only person still alive from that entire operation. It didn’t take a Rhodes scholar to figure out who was next on their hit list. Ramirez was going to get rid of him.

  He had always known this day was coming, and he’d been preparing for it for a long time. He just didn’t think it would be today.

  * * *

  “As I have mentioned, Fern, it’s a lady’s duty to look after the infirm.”

  From the passenger seat, Fern gave Tanyalee the stink-eye, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. She was so perky that Fern was going to have to work a little harder to get her goat today.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know how we’re helpin’ the sick by givin’ them frosted diabetes-in-a-cup.” Fern slumped in her seat and folded her arms. “Anyway, they ain’t sick, Tanyalee. They’re just old, and old folks give me the wiggins.”

  They didn’t, really. She only said that to get a reaction, but Tanyalee must have been seriously distracted because there was none. The boring truth was, old people were nice to Fern, especially Three-Gee. As a bonus, old people weren’t likely to pull out a gun and blow somebody’s head off just for the hell of it. Though, on second thought, Gladys might—if someone really ticked her off.

  “Now, Fern, don’t call them old. They prefer the word ‘elderly.’ Or even better—‘mature.’ And I’ll have you know that these are sugar-free cupcakes designed to be diabetes-friendly.” Tanyalee made a little harrumphing sound. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm these old cutie-pies!”

  Fern stared at her “mentor,” thinking that Tanyalee was just about the most fascinating person she’d ever met. The woman could surely drive Fern crazy, but by now it was clear that Tanyalee meant well, even when she would ramble on and on about nothing.

  As unbelievable as it seemed, Fern had learned that Tanyalee spent about three hours a day “getting ready” as she called it, and when Fern had asked what, exactly, she was “getting ready” for, Tanyalee went on about the finer points of preparing to start her day, or go to work, or head to the gym, or to go on a date, or even get ready for bed. Personally, Fern thought that sleeping should be the one thing you didn’t need to coordinate your wardrobe and makeup for, but then, she was just twelve.

  She’d also learned that Tanyalee’s family was as crazy as she was, but they all seemed to love each other in some type of way. Her sister, Cheri, was married to the same guy Tanyalee had once been married to, which was still hard for Fern to wrap her head around. Granddaddy Garland and Aunt Viv were brother and sister and older than dirt, but they lived in the same house and fought like little kids wanting the same toy.

  But the best thing about Tanyalee, by far, was that she was a stone-cold convict! Ha! Not that Fern held it against her. In fact, Fern thought that having a criminal background made Miss Goofyberry a lot more human, almost normal, even. And Fern would have come up with a lot of great ways to tease her about her record, but they were pulling in to the parking lot of the main building of Cherokee Pines Assisted Living, and Tanyalee was acting all businesslike.

  She backed up the Cadillac to the rear entrance of the building, and after only about forty-two corrections, which had to be a new personal best for her, Tanyalee yanked the gearshift into park and turned off the ignition. The gas-guzzling engine rumbled to a stop while Tanyalee reached into the backseat for her big, fugly purse.

  Fern waited more or less patiently while Tanyalee did the hair-pat, followed by the lipstick thing that had to be some kind of religious ritual for Bigler women, because Three-Gee did it too, only with way trashier lipstick.

  Tanyalee smiled at herself in the rearview, then smiled at Fern. “This stop won’t take long, and then I can drop you at home.” She returned the lipstick to her handbag, which she tucked between them on the bench seat. “I must say I enjoy your company on these delivery runs. It makes it kind of fun, don’t you think?”

  Fern had to admit that Daffy Taffy’s smile was a lot nicer now that she wasn’t trying so hard to be plastic-fantastic. Fern liked her better like this, warm and fuzzy in a wild-eyed-kitten-with-sharp-claws kind of way. It was sure better than how she acted the day they first met! Tanyalee had been pulled so tight back then that she seemed about to shatter like a beer bottle on the blacktop.

  Fern hopped out and followed Tanyalee around to the trunk.

  “Candy packed up ten dozen, which ought to be plenty for all the residents and staff…” Tanyalee jabbered on while carefully handing Fern a long cardboard box filled with two dozen cupcakes. She lifted another box into her own arms. “… we’re going to have to make more trips to the car.” She turned toward the home for the “elderly” and sighed. “I do hope Hugo Stevens doesn’t try to catch me behind the potted palms again. Being propositioned by a man old enough to be my granddaddy is downright disturbin’.”

  Fern shrugged. “Geezers gotta geeze.” She took the lead up the sidewalk, carefully watching her step. The bakery boxes had a tendency to bend and Fern didn’t want to be the one who disappointed the nice old people who looked forward to Cupcake Wednesday all week long. Fern knew all about disappointment, since she’d had plenty of Christmases without so much as a pair of new socks, not to mention all the nights without dinner and the mornings without breakfast. She wouldn’t wish that kind of disappointment on anyone.

  They let themselves into the heavy security door used for deliveries. The facility’s kitchen was all cleared up and empty in the hours between lunch and dinner. Tanyalee knew exactly where to place the boxes and pointed to where Fern’s should go. She set it down a little too hard.

  “Careful there,” Tanyalee told her. “I think Candy ought to get some of those clear plastic boxes, because these just don’t stand up to North Carolina humidity.”

  Fern rolled her eyes. The last thing she cared about was some damn bakery boxes. But Tanyalee was like that, always fussing about th
e little things.

  When they exited the building again, Tanyalee propped the door slightly ajar. They had no sooner reached the car than Tanyalee’s cell phone went off, blaring that annoying song from the window of the pimpmobile. Fern was so embarrassed she wanted to hide behind the bushes.

  “I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want…”

  Fern wanted her to get a new ringtone.

  But there went Tanyalee, running to answer her phone, moving fast as a hound dog to a bucket of bacon grease.

  It was torture listening to the way Tanyalee chattered on the phone, all pink and excited whenever he called. Fern didn’t set out to listen to people’s private conversations, but what was she supposed to do, stick her fingers in her ears and go, “La-la-la-la-la?” As Tanyalee made a date with Dante for later her voice got all gooey and ridiculous.

  “I’ll be done here in a jiff and we’ll have the whole evening. Uh-huh. No more than fifteen minutes.” Tanyalee started giggling like a first-grader. “Umkay. No, I’m all dressed so I can just meet you at the bakery. What? Oh, stop! You’re terrible! I am just going to hang up now. Umbye-bye.”

  “Oh, my dar-leeng Dawn-tay!” Fern stood in front of Tanyalee, making her voice as high and flirty as she could, fanning her hands around her face.

  Tanyalee stared at her blankly.

  Fern took it up a notch. “Oh, my stars! I just can’t wait to be frisked, and I simply love it when you show me your big ol’ badge.”

  The only reaction she got out of her mentor was a small twitch of a single eyebrow.

  Fern propped her fists on her hips and got down to the nitty-gritty. “You’re in love with that side of beef, aren’t you?”

  Tanyalee’s lips parted in surprise. “What did you just call him?”

  Fern waved off her concern. “Oh, that’s just Three-Gee’s name for him. So, are you? You know, in luuuhve?” Fern waited. As the seconds ticked by, she thought, Come on, Tanyalee. No more bullshit.

  Tanyalee looked down at her phone like it was some kind of crystal ball and shook her head. “I’m not sure I fully understand what love is yet, but I think that yes, I might love him.” She glanced up, her eyes all dreamy and gazing off in the distance, then suddenly, her attention snapped back to Fern. “I take that back. You know what?”