by Mary Campisi
“I picked up a few things at the grocery store for Gina. Ben’s working late and it’s hard for her to get to the store these days.”
She meant with a baby at home and another on the way. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” What else could he say? Maybe one day they’d know what that felt like…or maybe not. Mason wasn’t a baby, but he could bring them a helluva lot of joy…
“Did you eat?”
“I wasn’t hungry.” He wiped the sweat from his face with the arm of his T-shirt. “You?”
“Not yet.”
They’d always made a habit of eating together, no matter how late it was or how meager the meal. Tess once said it was the part of the day she enjoyed most: Cash whipping up dinner while she handled food prep and cleanup, talking as though they hadn’t just seen each other a few hours ago. It had always been that way with them and he’d believed that would never change. But there’d been a shift in their relationship since Stephanie and Mason arrived in Magdalena. Conversations had dwindled along with the touches. It shouldn’t be this hard. Hell, it didn’t need to be, but his wife didn’t see it that way. “There’s leftover meatloaf in the fridge and a pizza in the freezer.”
“I’m not very hungry.” A pause, and a shift from right foot to left. “Do you want me to fix you something?”
“Not now.” He pointed to the stack of wood that still needed to be split. “I want to finish this up before dark.”
“Okay then.” Her voice filled with something that sounded an awful lot like sadness. “I’ll be inside.”
Cash held her gaze, waited for her to say more, and the fact that she didn’t annoyed him. He buried the axe in a log, planted his hands on his hips, and said, “How long is this dance of silence going to go on between us? I know you’re not happy with me right now, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t draw the whole town into our differences.”
Those green eyes narrowed, the tiny nostrils flared. “How have I done that?”
She wanted to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about? Fine. He’d tell her. “How is it that Nate Desantro called me ten kinds of a fool today and then, surprise, surprise, told me to get a DNA test? Even offered options on the kind to get.”
“And did you shut him down, too?”
“We already talked about this. I don’t know why you can’t let it go.” He scowled. “Or why you can’t leave everybody else out of our business.” Oh, she didn’t like that comment, not one bit. Those lips he knew so well pulled into a scowl.
“First, we didn’t talk about it. You talked about it. You and Stephanie. I only got to listen.”
“That’s bullshit.” They had talked about it, more than once.
“Think what you like, but you haven’t asked my advice on anything since she arrived, and when I tried to tell you how I felt, you shut me down.” She advanced on him, fists clenched. “Don’t you care about what this situation is doing to us?”
“This situation?” He stared at her, jaw clenched. “You mean Mason.” Let her deny that one.
Pink crept from the opening of her shirt to her cheeks. “Of course not.”
But he could tell by that blush that was exactly what she meant. “When did you become so judgmental? I never saw it before, didn’t think you had a vicious bone in your body, but it’s there. Oh, yes, it’s all there, hidden away.”
“I asked you to take the test.” Her voice quivered, wobbled. “I want to make sure you’re not being taken advantage of; is that really so horrible?”
“It’s only horrible if you’re trying to make me think Mason isn’t my son. That would imply Stephanie lied to me. Do you think she lied about being sick, too? Maybe made up the whole thing and is as healthy as you and me?” Tess looked away, brushed a lock of hair from her face. Cash recognized the gesture as a habit she used when she didn’t want to answer a question. Right, probably because she didn’t want him to hear the answer. Well, it wasn’t necessary to hear her say it because he’d figured it out all by himself. “So. You think this all a scam. Guess you don’t think I would be smart enough to recognize when I’m being played. Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” He spotted the tears in her eyes, the sudden paleness of her face, the pinched lips. He should shut his mouth now before he let out another word he might regret later. But he couldn’t. Damn it, he could not keep his mouth closed. She’d hurt him, and he wanted to make her feel some of his pain. “Maybe we’re not as solid as we think.”
POP HAD enough worries trying to get to the bottom of Stephanie and Mason Richmond’s real story, but now he had another one piled right on top of the other and it was a doozy, enough to pump up his blood pressure and give him the agita. It had a name, too.
Tula Rae.
Dang it all, what was that woman doing in Magdalena? Mimi had called to tell him his worst headache had checked into the Heart Sent. Wanted to warn you, Pop. The woman you cursed in three languages is back in town. No idea why or how long she’s staying, but my guess says it has to do with you.
Humph. Of course it had to do with him, but what did she want? Maybe she’d come back for a face-to-face so she could give him her five cents over his refusal to let her attend Lucy’s funeral. Why would he welcome the person who’d tried to break up him and his Lucinda? Free thinking, the crazy bat had called it when she’d encouraged Lucy to ignore Pop’s request for a hot meal by 5:45 p.m. Independence and living your own life, she’d spouted as Lucy ironed the sheets and planted the garden. And finally, when the words between him and his wife grew harsh, the atmosphere tense, Tula Rae had shouted, Divorce. That’s when Pop had given her the boot, shooed her from his house and out of town. Nobody came between Angelo and Lucinda Benito, especially not a woman whose husbands kept dying on her.
He hadn’t heard from the woman since he denied her request to attend the funeral. Before that, it had been when Tula Rae pranced into town and put crazy notions in Lucy’s head and his wife almost listened. Pop wiped a hand over his forehead, made the sign of the cross. “Dear Lord, give me strength to face this she-devil.” He fixed his gaze on the portrait of his Lucy hanging over the mantel, let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Lucy, I got too much on me right now with this business between Tess and Cash to deal with a bull-headed, opinionated person like Tula Rae. I do curse the day you walked into Lina’s Café for my chocolate donut and met that woman. Nothing but trouble after that. I don’t like to think on those days or the words we said to each other, ones I’ve regretted too many times. I wish I had told you how sorry I was for making such a fuss and demanding you stop acting like a schoolgirl. What right did I have to say that?” His voice cracked, his eyes misted. “I was scared, Lucy, so dang scared that woman was going to give you crazy ideas, make you want to head to Oregon or wherever she was going with no care for me or Anthony. I didn’t trust you enough to know you wouldn’t do that, and if you did, that you’d come back. Why didn’t I trust you more?” Pop blinked, blinked again, but it was no use. The tears slipped down his cheeks, ran along the lines of wrinkles to his jaw, dropped onto his T-shirt. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I know you can hear me, and I hope you can forgive the fool I was.” He swiped at his tears, managed a half smile. “You always said I was a hard head with a soft heart, but you loved me anyway. If you were here, you’d tell me to talk to Tula Rae, see what she wanted, and hold my tongue. That’s hard to do when a man feels someone’s threatened the peace and harmony of his family. I don’t trust the woman, but I’ll listen to her—for you, Lucy. That’s all I can promise, but if she starts harping on me about not letting her pay respects to you, I’ll show her the way to the cemetery and then I’ll close the door. How about that?”
He didn’t have long to wait for the tsunami named Tula Rae to find her way to his front door. The double knock and a voice he wished he could forget called out, “Angelo Benito? You home?”
Pop pushed out of the chair, made a quick sign of the cross. Might as well get this over with seeing as he’d just promised Lucy he’d listen to Tula Rae.
“I’m coming,” he said, making sure to keep the snippiness out of his voice. Lucy wouldn’t like to hear he’d lost his manners before he even spoke to the woman. Another quick sign of the cross and he opened the door.
Tula Rae stared back at him, an older, grayer, more wrinkled version of the one he’d met thirty-some years ago. But there was too much that was the same: the long braid, the bronzed skin, the bright-colored T-shirt and exercise pants, the scowl on her face. And those dang eyes: coal-black, burrowing into him deeper than a mole in a tunnel, trying to see what was in his head before he could.
“Hello, Angelo.”
“Tula Rae.” No sense saying Nice to see you, since there was nothing nice about it and no point in pretending.
She crossed her arms over her puny chest, tapped a sneakered foot. “You gonna invite me in or should we air our dirty drawers on your front stoop?”
“Come on in. You want a glass of tea or a pizzelle?”
She shook her head and followed him into the kitchen. “Nope on the tea, yes on the pizzelles, and how about some of that wine you used to make? I could use a glass of that.”
When had she tasted his wine? Had Lucy snuck her in here when he wasn’t home? Pop pulled out two glasses and reached in the cabinet for the bottle of Sal Ventori’s wine. “I don’t make it myself anymore, but my friend sent me a bottle from his stock and it’s as good if not better than mine.”
“All right then, let’s have a taste.”
Pop filled two glasses, handed her one, and fixed a plate of pizzelles. She eyed him like she was thinking of making a toast, then nodded and took a drink. He did the same, grabbed the bottle and the pizzelles, and motioned for her to follow him. “Let’s sit in here.”
“Will you look at that?” Tula Rae stood in front of Lucy’s portrait, worked up a smile. “Seems like she’s still right here in this room.”
He almost said, She is, but didn’t. No point giving her fuel to tell him he was half a load shy in the common sense department or accuse him of Alzheimer’s. “It’s a good likeness, no doubt about it.”
“I still talk to her every now and again, just like we used to. Almost seems like she’s next to me and can hear what I’m saying.” She sank into the chair next to him. “Lucy always did have a way of listening that made a body feel special.” She eyed him. “You ever notice that?”
Pop nodded. Of course he’d noticed, how could he not have? “Lucy was the special one,” he said, his throat clogging. “With a big heart and kind words for everyone.”
Tula Rae eyeballed him. “We all should have been more like her.”
True words there.
“Bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“The question crossed my mind a time or two since I heard you were in town.”
She let out a laugh that could be a cackle if he listened close enough. “Mimi Pendergrass called you the second I signed in at the Heart Sent, didn’t she?”
Now that was something he’d never admit. Pop lifted a shoulder, sipped his wine. “Word travels fast in a town like this.”
“Did word also travel about the woman and the boy staying there? Mimi seemed awful nervous about those two, like she didn’t want me talking to them or even looking their way. Now I wonder why that is?”
“Guess that’s a question for Mimi.” Pop might have promised Lucy he wouldn’t turn into a hothead with Tula Rae, but he didn’t say he’d gossip and enjoy idle chitchat with her. He pointed to the portrait of his wife and said, “Lucy’s sitting right in this room with us, so she can act as referee. Why don’t you tell me why you’re back in Magdalena when you know it’s the last place you ought to be?”
Those dark eyes settled on him, the mouth pinched. “I came to call a truce. I had some heart problems a while back and passing out in a lettuce patch will make a person rethink why she’s walking this earth and how much longer she’s got to walk it. Of all the people whose paths I’ve crossed in my time, you’re the one that got to me.” She sipped her wine, licked her lips. “I spent a lot of days wondering why that was and I finally figured it out. I didn’t do right by Lucy. She loved you no matter your peculiarities and who was I to try and convince her life isn’t run or ruled by a man? I had no success in the man area, buried too many husbands, and didn’t want to marry the one I got.”
The woman could weave a tale, pull a person in and make him wonder what happened next. “Then why did you?”
She shrugged, her cheeks turning pink beneath the tan. “Earl said it was marriage or nothing. When I ended up in the hospital, they wouldn’t talk to him because we weren’t kin. That was it for him; he said marriage or good-bye. I was only trying to protect him from the sure death that hit my other husbands, but he didn’t care.” Her thin lips turned into a faint smile. “He said a minute with me as his wife was worth risking his life.”
“Sounds like you’re going soft on your men views.”
The scowl she gave him said don’t count on it. “Earl’s the big reason I’m here. He said it’s time to settle the past, said my soul can’t rest with the unfinished business between us.”
“Did you tell him what happened?” Pop and Lucy had only talked about it once, right after he found out. The possibilities of what might have happened were too deep and painful to revisit, so they buried them, deeper than a coal mine.
“I told him all of it.” Her voice cracked. “Sounds a lot worse when you say it out loud, but at the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t. I let my big mouth and my opinions get in the way of common sense and by the time I realized it, well, it was too late.”
“Talking about it might make you feel better, but it won’t help me.” The pain of those days snuck to the surface, threatened to crush his heart.
“She was never going to leave you, Angelo. Trust me on that one.”
He tried to block out the words but they inched past his defenses, landed on his chest. “Stop.” Lucy had packed a bag, bought a bus ticket… He closed his eyes but the vision of her red bag smothered him.
“Angelo.” Tula Rae clasped his arm. “Listen to me. Lucy was never going to leave you.”
A dang tear slipped down his cheek and he turned his head away. All these years he’d wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t split open the seam in the crotch of his work pants and come home early. Would Lucy have been gone to who knows where? Would there have been a note, an explanation, anything? Or would his wife have walked away from their life like he’d seen people do on television? He’d have thought the worst, worried someone had done her in, and all the while, she’d have left him because she wanted another life—one without him.
“Angelo.”
There was that woman’s voice again, the she-devil who put all sorts of thoughts into Lucy’s head, made his wife question what she wanted, who she loved. And now here she was again, trying to force him to relive one of the worst times in his life. “You got to stop.”
“Here.” She shoved something in his hands. “Open your eyes and stop acting like a scared rabbit.”
He blinked his eyes open, stared at the yellowed envelopes she’d shoved at him. There were four of them and the handwriting scrawled over the top envelope sure looked like Lucy’s writing: elegant, precise, not like his chicken scratch. “Letters? Where’d you get these?”
“Lucy sent them to me. I should have given them to you before, but I didn’t, okay? I planned to deliver them at the funeral, but I was uninvited and I let my anger get the best of me.” Those dark eyes burrowed into him way deeper than he wanted them to go. “The answers are all there, you’ll see.” Her voice gentled for a second, and her expression softened, almost like she cared about his feelings. “She was never going to leave you, Angelo. Now I’ll be going so you can have time alone. If you want to chitchat, I’ll be at the Heart Sent. Mimi Pendergrass invited me to whip up some collards in her kitchen with her and I plan to take her up on it. She said nobody makes collards like a Southerner
, transplanted or not, and I’m about to show her she’s right.”
Pop nodded, clutched the letters. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you later.” Tula Rae lifted a hand in farewell, moved toward the door. “You think long and hard on those letters and remember what I just told you, and if that thick head of yours can’t read between the lines, I’ll give it to you plain speak. Just because Lucy went haywire for a second or two and thought about what it might be like to run away, it was never going to happen. She loved you too much to risk losing you. Now read the damn letters and see for yourself.”
6
Lily made her way down the dirt path behind Nate’s workshop and set her lunch bag and bottle of water on the big rock. Nate said she could come and sit on her favorite rock and snap as many pictures as she wanted with the phone he said Uncle Harry should not have bought her as long as she didn’t move out of sight of the workshop. And she had to make sure she called him every fifteen minutes. Not ten or eighteen, but fifteen he’d said, and showed her how to set the alarm on the phone. She’d pretended she didn’t hear the bad words he mumbled when he couldn’t figure out how to do it right away and she’d offered to call Uncle Harry. Hmm. Uncle Harry was not a pain in the ass, even if Nate said he was.
After she ate lunch, she’d snap, snap, snap lots of pictures: grass, wildflowers, birds, rocks…the sky. She lifted her face to the sky. Blue like a robin’s egg with fluffs of clouds just like the tail on the bunny she’d seen at the nature center last week. Harold was his name and he was big, brown, and chunky with the whitest, fluffiest tail she’d ever seen. Mom said it reminded her of cotton balls but Uncle Harry called it more whipped cream. She closed her eyes, let the sun’s heat smile on her, make her warm and toasty. Birds chirped around her, and was that an owl making the who, who sounds? Lily listened, tried to figure out other sounds with her eyes closed. Pop said you didn’t need eyes to see what was really going on. All you had to do was listen. Listen…listen…listen…
