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Kellen's Moment

Page 3

by Robin Alexander


  It wasn’t her first trip to McLin. As soon as she’d gotten a driver’s license, she’d gone there out of curiosity and to see Trent Weiss. The Weiss family owned property right on the dividing line of the school districts. Stevie had gone to school with Trent since kindergarten. The lines of the districts were redrawn the summer before Trent was to begin high school, and he ended up going to McLin High, much to his and Stevie’s dismay. After school, Stevie would sneak over to McLin where she and Trent would have a snack at the diner in the center of town. She knew the McLin family owned the diner, and Trulee was in there most days. Stevie figured if Trulee had realized who she was, she never let on.

  The closer Stevie got to McLin, the more she thought about Trent and regretted they’d lost touch. When she went off to college, there was a whole new world to explore filled with new people to meet. Trent stayed in McLin, became a welder like his father, and married. They did call each other often at first, but as time went on, the calls became fewer, and eventually stopped as they got on with their new lives. Stevie had always missed her old best friend, though, and the possibility of reconnecting with him thrilled her.

  As children, Stevie and Trent were obsessed with Lego bricks. In their pre-teens, it was art, and both of them had a passion for sketching. Their relationship in their teen years didn’t change like it had with some of Stevie’s other male friends who saw her in a completely different light and wanted to take friendship to a different level. Trent endeared himself to Stevie even more then because he’d never pawed at her or tried to kiss her like the others had. Trent was always simply her best friend, and boundaries between them never blurred.

  As she crossed the line into the McLin town limits, she noticed the “Welcome to McLin, Louisiana” sign, and beneath it, a dozen handwritten signs that said things like Home of the Homos, and another read Fags and Hags live here. Stevie frowned and wondered if her brother’s teenage son had a hand in making them.

  She turned off the highway onto a narrow asphalt lane. After driving a quarter of a mile, she expected to see Trent’s childhood home, but there was nothing there, not even a slab where the brick home had sat. For as far as she could see, there was simply farmland filled with rows of soil. Disappointed, Stevie turned around and headed back to the main highway. She knew Trent no longer lived in his childhood home but hoped his family still did and could tell her where to find him. Resigned to hunting Trent on social media, she made her way to the town of McLin for a look around.

  As she drew closer, she noticed a sign with a picture of a slice of blueberry pie brimming with berries. Written beneath it was: You’ll cry if you miss out on my pies. Stop in at Trulee’s, three miles ahead on the right. Stevie smiled, happy to know the old hangout was still open. Her smile, however, morphed into a look of shock when she noticed buildings and subdivisions where there used to be fields and woods. It wasn’t the tiny town she remembered any longer, and it certainly wasn’t the mud hole her father had claimed it to be. Main Street had gone from a sparsely populated two-lane road to a boulevard lined with businesses, and Stevie almost passed the diner dwarfed by the buildings surrounding it.

  She turned into the parking lot that was empty except for a car and a truck. As she parked, she was a little saddened that the old gas station and store with wooden floors had been replaced by a modern fuel plaza. Stevie had enjoyed going in there because she felt as though she’d stepped into a time warp. Giant jars of candy lined the counter, sodas were kept in chest-style coolers, and she could buy a pair of rubber boots and boudin if she wanted to because the place had everything.

  Stevie got out of her car and walked into the diner that had changed, as well. The tables and booths had been updated, and TVs were mounted in every corner. The woman behind the counter smiled and said, “You’re just in time, the lunch specials go off the menu at two o’clock, and you have three minutes to spare. Sit anywhere you like, hon. I’ll be with you in just a sec.”

  “I’m actually here for the pie. Your sign on the highway lured me in.” Stevie walked over to the counter and took a seat on one of the stools. “What kind do you have?”

  “Today, we have blueberry, chocolate chip, pecan, sweet potato, and coconut cream.”

  “Tough choices.” Stevie chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “I’ll go with the blueberry, a cup of coffee, and a glass of water.”

  “Coming right up,” the woman said as she set a cup on the counter in front of Stevie and poured the coffee. “I can’t wait to tell my husband my sign is responsible for another customer. I designed it myself, and he thought the idea was stupid. Most out-of-towners take the turnoff to the marina and don’t even realize I’m here. Honey, you want that pie topped with ice cream?”

  “No, thank you.” Stevie raised her coffee cup in a toast. “I think the sign was an excellent idea.”

  When the woman behind the counter flashed a big smile, Stevie’s heartrate shot up. She recognized Trulee then and was stunned at how much sixteen years had changed her. Trulee’s hair that had been dark auburn was completely gray now; she wore it in a little ponytail. Stevie remembered her being kind of a stout woman, but Trulee was thin and looked almost frail. Her face was filled with deep lines. The only things that had remained the same were her bright blue eyes and her smile.

  “Did you hear that, Kyle?” Trulee said to a man seated in a booth directly behind Stevie. “I want you to be a witness to the effectiveness of my sign.”

  “I do solemnly swear that I did in fact hear that, Trulee, and I will be more than happy to rub it in Walt’s face.”

  Stevie stiffened when she realized she was in the presence of not one, but two members of the McLin family and suddenly felt as though she had Sealy stamped on her forehead. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at Kyle. She relaxed when Trulee set a slice of pie in front of her, and it did look like the picture on the sign, full of blueberries. Stevie didn’t hesitate to dig in because if she was going to be arrested, or worse, she was going to do it with a belly full of pie.

  “Did you check the restrooms, Ambria?” Trulee asked a young black woman as she passed the counter.

  “Uh-huh, they still there.” Ambria looked at her phone.

  “Ambria, you’d better go make sure the bathrooms are clean,” Trulee warned.

  “I did, Trulee.” Ambria stuffed her phone into her pocket. “Why’re you hating on me today?”

  “I could never hate you, you’re like my own child, but I’ll still stuff you in the dishwasher if you don’t keep up with the things you need to.” Trulee smiled at Stevie. “Ambria is still in training.”

  “Potty training,” Kyle said.

  “Kyle, you hush. You ain’t a paying customer, and I don’t have to be nice to you,” Ambria said as she poured herself a glass of tea.

  “You just passing through?” Trulee asked Stevie as she wiped the counter.

  “Yes, ma’am. I was doing some exploring of the area,” Stevie said in between bites. “I wanted to ask, though, do you by any chance know the Weiss family?”

  Trulee froze and glanced at Kyle. She didn’t answer, but Kyle asked, “Who wants to know?”

  Stevie set down her fork and dared to turn and face Kyle, who was staring at her curiously, his big green eyes standing out against his pale skin. “I went to school with Trent Weiss when we were kids, and we lost touch. I rode past his old house, and it was gone.”

  “When his parents divorced, they sold the house to someone who wanted to farm the land, so they tore it down,” Kyle explained. “I know Trent quite well, but before I tell you anything about him, I need to know who you are.”

  “Stevie…Grant,” she said, borrowing her ex’s last name.

  “Now that’s interesting,” Trulee interjected. “I happen to know the Sealys have a daughter named Stevie, and that’s not a particularly common name, at least not around here. As I recall, she used to come here with Trent.”

  “Oh, shit is about to get real.” Ambria pulle
d her phone back out of her pocket and aimed the camera at Stevie.

  “Are you a Sealy?” Trulee asked pointedly and plucked the phone from Ambria’s hand.

  Stevie held up her hands in surrender. “I come in peace and for pie, I swear. Are y’all gonna have me arrested?”

  “No, they gonna knock your Sealy teeth out, fool,” Ambria said. “Go see my momma, she’s the only dentist in town, and she’ll put them back in for you.”

  Trulee rolled her eyes. “No one is going to hit you, Stevie, and why would you think we’d have you arrested?”

  “I don’t know…trespassing?” Stevie asked with her hands still in the air.

  “You’re in a public place, honey. We couldn’t get you for trespassing,” Trulee whispered and smiled. “Put your hands back down.”

  “Walt would, he don’t like a Sealy.” Ambria took a white paper bag from beneath the counter and wrote something on it. “He don’t come up in here, though. He says he gets enough of Trulee’s cooking at home.” She scooted the bag close to Stevie’s plate. “I wrote the address to my momma’s office on that. You can put your teeth in it in case you run into Walt on the street.”

  Trulee’s bottom jaw jutted out for a second. “Ambria, go into the kitchen and help Dale.”

  “There ain’t nobody in here, he ain’t cooking nothing.” Ambria pointed at Stevie. “Look here, girl. If you do see Walt, say your name is Stephanie.”

  “I don’t ever remember meeting Walt. Why does he hate me?” Stevie asked.

  “Fool! You’re a Sealy,” Ambria exclaimed.

  “How many times have I told you that you cannot call my customers names?” Trulee asked Ambria.

  Ambria shrugged. “Fool ain’t a name, it’s a title.”

  “Go. Help. Dale.” Trulee held up a finger when Ambria’s mouth opened. “Don’t say another word.”

  After Ambria went into the kitchen, everyone heard Dale say, “Aw, shit.”

  “Shut up, old man. I don’t want to be back here with you, either,” Ambria retorted.

  “Stevie, I apologize for Ambria.” Trulee lowered her voice. “Her mother and I thought she might learn the importance of an education by waiting tables, but the only one being taught a lesson is me.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Stevie said with a smile.

  Kyle picked up his cup of coffee and joined Stevie at the counter. “Apparently, as McLins, we’re supposed to hate Sealys and vice versa because of some ancient land dispute. Trulee, do you even remember what it was about?”

  “Oh,” Trulee began with a sigh. “Walt’s great-grandfather John claimed he had an agreement with Will Sealy. If I remember correctly, their land butted up close to where John built his home. Will promised John that if he ever decided to sell the plot close to the property line, he’d let John make an offer on it first. According to John, Will broke the promise and made an agreement to sell the land to a chemical company that wanted to build a warehouse on it. To make matters worse, Will brought in a surveyor with a questionable reputation, and he put the property line nearly half an acre into John’s land. That became a legal battle the McLins eventually won, but Will still sold his property to the company and supposedly gave the company a price break if they would agree to build their warehouse as close to the property line as they could. They did, and one night, the contents of the warehouse caught fire, and the explosion leveled the warehouse. Will accused John of arson, but it was never proven.” Trulee cocked her head. “You’ve never heard any of this?”

  Stevie shook her head. “All I’ve ever heard was someone in the McLin family supposedly swindled one of our ancients out of some land.”

  “I think there were some shady dealings on both sides of the fence,” Trulee said, and one of her brows shot up. “After the fire, John claimed he made an offer to the chemical company to buy the land that was well above market value, and they took it. Will was furious, and those two old men continued to fight about that land until they died, and the next generations of McLins and Sealys kept it going. In my opinion, hating each other has become a hobby for our two families. Kyle and I don’t give a hoot about it, and I can speak for both of us when I say we don’t hate you. Of course, that could change if you gave us reason. Were you sent here for information? Don’t lie, I’m like a human polygraph.”

  “No,” Stevie said instantly, thinking the question was ludicrous. “Matter of fact, even though I’m a grown woman, my parents forbade me to come here, so naturally, I had to do it. Plus, I wanted to see if Trent was still around. Just out of curiosity, what kind of information would my family want?”

  “Our parade schedule,” Kyle said. “Parades and festivals bring in revenue to our towns, but they’re a big bone of contention. Take Mardi Gras, for example. We set a date for our parade, and the day we announced it, your town announced theirs for the same date and time. Both towns would do well if one had a parade in the morning and one had their parade in the evening. That way, the people who travel to see them wouldn’t have to choose one over the other.”

  “Couldn’t you move yours to a different time then?” Stevie asked. “I get it, it’s the point that counts, but if you’re gonna lose money, why not change?”

  “We spend a lot on advertising, and switching the time isn’t as easy as it sounds.” Kyle smiled. “You must not be in on the Sealy information loop.”

  “Not at all. I haven’t lived in Sealy since I went off to college,” Stevie said. “I’ve been living in New York, and I just moved back.”

  Kyle opened his mouth to say something when Trulee said, “Hey, Kellen, you’re awfully late for lunch.”

  “Well, I’ve been dealing with drama all day because that’s what I do now,” Kellen said wearily.

  Stevie turned and looked at the woman who strode in wearing a business suit that included a long skirt. Her hair, so dark brown it looked black at first glance, hung to her shoulders in loose curls. She was tall, but her high-heeled boots made her look as though she was six feet plus an inch or so. Her light green eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded Stevie. When she took the seat beside Stevie’s and crossed her legs, the slit in the skirt revealed her bare knee, and Stevie’s eyes were glued to it as though she’d never seen an exposed knee before. Immediate attraction welled up inside of her, and at the same time, she felt all her intelligence recede to the far corners of her mind.

  “Kellen, this is…Stephanie Grant,” Kyle said. “Steph, this is my sister, Kellen McLin, our illustrious mayor.”

  “I’m pleasured to—I mean, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Stevie stammered.

  Kellen smiled. “It’s great to meet you, as well. I would love to stay and visit, but I have to get lunch to go. I’m going to round out my day with a meeting about ditches, and I can hardly wait. Trulee, may I have whatever soup you’re serving today and a salad—wait. Please pick a soup that doesn’t have chicken in it. Ian showed me a picture of Miss Peckins flattened in the road, and I don’t feel right about eating her distant cousins today.”

  “He was in here waving that picture around during breakfast, and the special was chicken and waffles. Clara said he had everybody in here feeling sorry for him, and no one wanted to order the special. He’s becoming really bad for business, and if that keeps up, he’ll have more to worry about than flat birds,” Trulee said as she headed for the kitchen.

  “So, Steph, are you new to McLin?” Kellen asked.

  “Stevie.”

  Kellen’s brow shot up. “Excuse me.”

  Stevie had forgotten that Kyle had introduced her that way and wasn’t sure why, but when he bumped her with his knee, she did her best to correct her mistake. “I thought you said Stevie, I am Stephanie. Uh…Stephanie Grant, and no, I…um…I saw the pie sign.”

  “Okay,” Kellen said slowly with a nod and stared at Stevie for a moment. “Well, I’m glad you stopped in.”

  Kyle laughed. “Yeah, Trulee has called me to testify that the sign drew in another customer. Walt is gonna h
ave to eat crow and admit he was wrong for criticizing her idea.”

  “You know that won’t happen. Walt will never admit he was wrong about anything. He still denies he left his truck in neutral and the parking brake off, even though the door of the truck hit him before it, the boat, and the trailer rolled down the ramp into the water.”

  “Was he hurt?” Stevie asked, feeling sorry for someone she didn’t know and supposedly hated her.

  “Only his pride.” Kellen laughed. “That’s more important to our uncle than the truck and boat he lost.”

  Trulee returned and set a white bag on the counter. “I realize you probably ordered a light lunch for a reason, but I put you a piece of pie in the bag anyway. It’s good for soothing nerves.”

  “Thank you, Trulee.” Kellen put her hand on the bag and continued to stare at Stevie. “I hope you’ll come back and visit us soon, Stephanie. McLin has a lot more than award-winning pies to offer. It was very nice to meet you,” she said as she stood.

  “Thank you, I will.” Stevie watched Kellen head for the door. She froze and was unable to look away when Kellen turned suddenly and gazed at her a moment before she walked out. Stevie turned to Kyle. “Does she hate me, too? Is that why you introduced me as Stephanie?”

  Kyle grimaced. “I’ll just say that your family makes her job difficult at times, and since she was already having a rough day, I did that to avoid any conflict that might’ve arisen. Hey, if you wanna give me your number, I’ll get in touch with Trent and let him know you’re looking for him.”

  “I would greatly appreciate that. I hope that won’t cause problems between him and his wife. Trent and I never dated, we were always like brother and sister.”

  “He and his wife divorced a long time ago.” Kyle grinned. “His current love is very secure in their relationship and won’t mind you talking to him a bit.”

 

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