“I never wanted to, but—” Felix shrugged, helpless. “Seems like today’s the day. Honey, he lied. He wasn’t in love with you. He told me. He was kind of worried about me being mad, but I couldn’t blame him much.” His voice was warm and mesmerizing. “I mean, think about it; you know this, Jottie. Vause had been around, and you were just a small-town girl. That’s why he had to have that money. He had to get out of here before he got stuck with you—”
47
I stood up suddenly, like a rope had yanked me.
Father was speaking. “You made it worse when you started talking about getting married—”
And then I heard Jottie’s voice. I couldn’t see her, not from where I was, but her voice was awful. “No! It wasn’t me. Vause said it first!”
I was so scared. I was so scared to hear her like that. Oh, Jottie—I put my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. Father was talking and my heart was pounding in my ears, telling me to get to her, pounding so loud I couldn’t hear all the words he said, but I heard some. I heard him say, “He had a couple other girls he was going with.”
No, he hadn’t. Vause Hamilton had carried Jottie’s picture next to his heart, and Father knew it. He was lying; I could hear it the way you hear a tune and you know what the next note is; you know how it goes. I wondered how many times I’d heard him lie, to know so well what it sounded like.
Jottie whispered, “No.” I dug my fingernails into my arm to take some of her hurt away. Father was breaking Jottie, and if she broke, I would split into pieces, too.
“He wasn’t in love with you,” Father went on, low and crooning. “He told me. He was kind of worried about me being mad, but I couldn’t blame him much. I mean, think about it; you know this, Jottie. Vause had been around, and you were just a small-town girl. That’s why he had to have that money. He had to get out of here before he got stuck with you. Let’s face it, honey, you were never Vause’s type—”
Jottie cried then, like she’d been hit, and I couldn’t bear it. I suppose I made a choice between the two of them in that moment. I think I knew even then that I was making a choice, but in a way I was choosing myself, because if I had waited one more second, I would have stopped being who I was.
I banged open the door and flew into the kitchen. I’d been in the dark so long I was mostly blind, but I got to Jottie all right, and I was babbling as my arms slid around her, “He loved you, Jottie. He loved you, don’t you cry, Jottie, don’t, ’cause he loved you, I know he did. I found his coat, it’s down in Mr. Russell’s basement, in one of Father’s cases, and he carried your picture right there next to his heart”—I squeezed her as hard as I could to make her hear me—“and it’s a beautiful picture of you, too, and he carried it because he loved you and he wanted you right there, next to him. I wanted it so bad, but I knew not to take it out of the coat, ’cause I could see it was precious. He loved you and so do I, I love you, too, don’t feel bad, Jottie. Father’s lying, I can tell.” Her arms came around me, but she was still shaking, and I said desperately, “Listen, Jottie, he loved you. I know he did, and Father knows it, too.”
She held on to me tight. Then, in the distance, I heard Mr. McKubin say, “It’s where?”
“Mr. Russell’s basement,” I said, wanting Jottie to stop shaking.
Some time passed, and then Mr. McKubin said, “Vause’s coat is in Mr. Russell’s basement? Tare Russell’s?”
I lifted my head so he could hear me and stop asking questions. “Yes.”
“And you said it was inside something?” he pushed.
“Willa.” It was Father. I turned around and saw he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Mr. McKubin, with a big smile on his face. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She found something. Could be anybody’s. Willa’s got an imagination.” He shook his head and chuckled.
He was trying to make me look like a baby, a fool. He was casting me aside, without even thinking twice about it. After everything I’d done, after I’d tried to save him from Miss Beck, after I’d kept his secrets all summer, after what I’d been through the night before. I came near to hating him then. “It’s not anybody’s,” I snapped. “It’s Vause Hamilton’s coat, because inside another pocket there’s a note from you. It says, ‘V, Talked him down to two hundred dollars, but it’ll need a new tire, so two-fifty. F.’ It’s your handwriting—you’re F, so V is Vause Hamilton.”
Emmett whispered, “Oh God.”
Inside my arms, Jottie went still. “Wait.”
I drew back a little to stroke her cheek. There were tears on it. “He loved you, Jottie,” I told her again. I needed her to know it.
“Willa, where is this coat?” she asked.
More questions. “It’s in a case of Father’s,” I said. “You know, those black cases he has, F. H. R. It’s in one of those, in Tare Russell’s basement.”
“What the hell were you doing in Tare Russell’s basement?” asked Father.
Even though I was mad, even though I almost hated him, I didn’t betray him. I didn’t say a word about bootlegging. “I was just there. Playing.”
“What? You go creeping around in Tare’s house without him knowing? That’s trespassing!” he said, sharp.
“Chip off the old block,” said Mr. McKubin.
“Shut up,” said Father. He moved near me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Willa, we’ll deal with you later. You get on upstairs and we’ll—”
“No.” It was Jottie. Her eyes were fixed on mine. “Tell me what else was in the case. With Vau—the coat.” She stuttered like she didn’t dare say his name.
I didn’t mean to tell, but Jottie’s eyes were in mine, and I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t lie. “Money,” I said.
“How much?” she asked.
“Not much,” I said. She put her hand on my cheek. “A lot.”
“What else?” she prodded.
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just the envelopes.”
Her hand against my cheek. “Envelopes?”
“Those big brown envelopes from the mill. You know. They say American Everlasting across the top, but these ones are old, because it says September Something, 1920, down below. The money’s inside them.”
“September 1920?” Mr. McKubin said, like he didn’t believe it.
“Yeah.” I tried to see the date in my mind, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know why it mattered, anyway. I turned back to Jottie. “But the picture,” I explained, “it was right next to his heart, a picture of you.”
Then Mr. McKubin said, “We’ve got you now, you bastard.”
I spun around, and when I saw Father’s face, I almost stopped breathing.
The silence stretched out. Only the clock in the hall seemed to be living.
“Vause was running out on me, that’s what you said.”
Felix hesitated, then nodded.
“But he wasn’t.”
He shook his head.
“He wasn’t,” she insisted.
He shook his head.
“You lied.”
He closed his eyes and nodded.
“Did he”—Jottie took a breath—“did he love me?”
He nodded.
She bowed her head.
“Well, well, look who was right all along!” Sol said, bringing his hands together. “What are we going to do?” He glanced around the kitchen. “We have to do something.”
“Shut up, Sol,” said Emmett.
“But we—”
As though she hadn’t heard him, Jottie continued, “You were after the money—because we still needed two hundred dollars for the car. So you decided to steal it from Daddy, and then you decided to take it all, not just the two hundred but everything, because two hundred wasn’t enough to hurt him.” Her voice slowed as it came to her. “And then you decided to set the mill on fire because you hated it so, and you wanted to see it burn. And Vause, you made Vause come along—” She broke off, eyes widening. “He didn’t know anything about it,
did he?”
Felix looked at the floor. “He knew about the two hundred,” he said hoarsely. “I said it was an advance on my paycheck.”
She waited a moment. “This is the truth?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t even know,” she murmured to herself. “Give me a kiss for luck, but he didn’t even know—oh God.” She put her hand over her eyes.
Felix took an uncertain step toward her.
She drew her hand away from her face. “The things he said to me? Felix?”
An almost imperceptible nod.
“Felix?”
“He meant them.”
She stood before him in silence, her eyes digging deeper and deeper into his, reaching far down into the past. Finally she said, “This time, you pay.”
“Jottie—” he began.
She cut him off, implacable. “No. No. There’s no way out of this. You were willing to do that to Vause? To me? All these years? You let me live like this, thinking Vause had thrown me away? It almost killed me, Felix.” He flinched as she went toward him. “It almost killed me.” She wrapped her fingers into the cloth of his shirt and scanned his face. “Didn’t you care?”
He drew in a shallow breath. “ ’Course I did, Jottie, but I had to—”
“No!” She pounded against him with her fistful of shirt. “No! You could have told the truth!” Harder and harder, she hit him, again and again and again.
“Jottie.” His hands came around hers gently, and she stopped hitting him and dropped her head against his shoulder. “Jottie,” he murmured. When she said nothing, he went on, speaking quietly, “This is bad. It’s real bad, but it’s not like when he died. That was the worst thing, and we made it through together. We can do this, too, I know we can, if we stick together. Huh?” She shook her head. “No? Okay, but listen.” He bent his head close to hers. “I know it’s bad. But you remember how it was, don’t you? We only had each other. No one else understood. No one else even cared. And this is the same. You know it is. Everything that ever happened, we went through it together, didn’t we?” He pressed her hands. “Didn’t we?”
She said nothing.
“We can’t stop now,” he concluded. “We’ve got to stick together.”
She drew away from him, her face empty. “No.”
“Okay.” He nodded, licking his lips. “Okay. I know you’re mad, and I don’t blame you, not for a minute, but you don’t want to rush off and marry Sol. You don’t want to do a crazy thing like that.” He bent to look in her face and continued, “Sol’s not what you want.” He shook his head. “You think you want everything nice and pretty and normal, but you don’t. All that’s gone and done, and it’s not worth having. It’s not worth a nickel, Jottie.”
“Not worth a nickel,” she repeated.
“Haven’t I always said so?” Felix prodded. “Isn’t that what I always said?”
“Yes, you always said that, and I always thought you were wrong”—Jottie spoke sharp and clear—“but how could I be sure? I’d been so mistaken about Vause that I didn’t trust myself. How can I know anything, I’d think, because I thought I knew Vause. You swore that you weren’t there; you swore it on the Bible, remember?”
“I know—”
“And now you’re trying to tell me I’d be better off without Sol? Better off with you?. You liar,” she spat, her face stiff with loathing.
“If you’re thinking that you’re going to get back at me by marrying Sol—”
“It has nothing to do with you,” she snapped. “I know you can hardly imagine such a thing, but I wasn’t even thinking about you when I said yes. I said yes because I wanted to!”
Sol made a vindicated sound they both ignored.
Felix glared at her. “Well, that’s fine. Fine. Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander.” He slid toward Layla. “My betrothed,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. Willa gave a muffled cry, but he didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on Jottie. “You like that?”
“No,” Layla said, jerking her shoulder away. “No.”
They had nearly forgotten her. All five of them turned to look at her flushed face.
“No?” said Felix quizzically.
“No.” She took a jagged breath. “You—you—lied. About that poor boy. He was your best friend, and your sister loved him, and you let her think—you let her suffer so that you didn’t have to.” She put her hand to her cheek as if it hurt. “I can’t believe—Jottie, I’m so sorry about—what happened. And you, too, Mr. McKubin; I’m sorry for the things I said before. I didn’t know.” She gazed at Felix. “All this time, people hinted about you and I thought they were lying. I never questioned—because I was in love with you—” Her eyes widened. “Oh God. You never cared about me at all, did you?”
“Sure I did. I’m crazy about you,” said Felix.
“Don’t.” Jottie winced. “Don’t do that, Felix.”
He looked at her impassively. “Up to you, Jottie.”
“You can’t—” she began.
But Layla interrupted. “Jottie? Up to Jottie? It’s not up to Jottie. You think that I’m such a—a—a weakling that I’d take you even if you’re a liar and a thief? Even if you broke Jottie’s heart? Even if I know you don’t care about me? No, Felix.”
He smiled at her mockingly. “Pretty easy to change your mind last time.”
She flinched.
“Didn’t even take five minutes.”
“No,” Layla said, backing away. “Don’t.”
“And it was fun,” he went on. “Especially the last part. Remember? When you—”
“Stop it!” she cried.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Felix snapped as Emmett took a step toward Layla. “Don’t you touch her.” Emmett froze.
“Stop it, Felix,” Jottie said. She drew herself up. “I’ve had enough. You have to go.”
“No,” he said obstinately.
She stood stiff and straight. “Yes. It’s over. I’m done with you.”
“You can’t,” he said.
“I can. I am,” she replied. “Out.”
With a wail, Willa buried her face in her aunt’s neck. Jottie cradled her head close.
Felix eyed the pair of them. “The girls. They’re mine.”
“No. Don’t even try it. You know what I’d do.” She glared at him. “They stay with me.”
For a moment Felix stood, searching her for something he knew. She shook her head. “No, Felix. Not this time.”
“Not this time,” he repeated. Still, he didn’t move but stood, rocking slightly on his heels, his face tilted upward as though he were waiting for something. He shook his head as if to clear it, and then he nodded. “Okay,” he muttered. “Hang on. Okay.” He took a breath and stepped forward to touch Willa’s shoulder with a single finger. She didn’t move. “Okay.”
Without a glance at the others, he went out the door.
48
I heard him go. I felt him touch me and then I heard his footsteps, and I thought, He’s making noise so I’ll know he’s leaving. He’s saying good-bye. But I kept my head down. I’d been turned to stone. I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t do anything. Finally, when I knew he was gone, I lifted my head from Jottie’s neck. The minute I did, I began to pant, and then there were some minutes I don’t remember very well, because the kitchen was tipping and spinning, lighter and darker and back and forth. My heart was racing. I have to go to him, I thought, I have to run. But when I moved it was only to put my hand out to steady myself against the table. I held on, trying to catch my breath. I ought to be in a hospital, I thought.
“Willa?” It was Jottie. She put her arm around me, worried. “Willa? Sweetheart?”
I blinked. Her face was rolling up and down, too.
“She should sit down,” said Miss Beck, and she touched my arm. It was like a burn on my skin. I stumbled forward and scrambled, half running and half falling, across the room and out the back porch.
I flung myself down the porch stairs and into the backyard, and then I raced to the gate, the one that led to the alley, and threw it open—and there was his car at the end of the alley, just turning out onto Walnut Street. I ran—my Lord, I’d never run that fast in my life—but the alley was so long, it was miles long, and by the time I got to the end of it, he was gone. I didn’t even see his car in the distance. I didn’t think to yell. I wonder if he would have come for me if I’d yelled.
Emmett picked me up off the ground. Just like it was nothing, he plucked me up and carried me back to the house in his arms. He didn’t scold me, not a bit. In fact, he didn’t say anything, which was a big relief. “Better take her up to my bed,” Jottie’s voice said, so he carried me up the stairs and laid me gently on Jottie’s bed, like I was sick. Which maybe I was. I felt his big hand brush over my hair, and I started to cry. I thought I’d cried myself out the night before, but I hadn’t.
“Sweetheart.” It was Jottie’s voice again. “Sweetheart, everything will be all right.”
I wanted to tell her how I’d failed—how I’d meant to protect Father from Miss Beck, how hard it had been to watch them and keep quiet, how I’d tried to be devoted and ferocious and instead I’d destroyed everything, ruined everything, lost everything. But I couldn’t. All I could do was cry.
Jottie held Willa until there weren’t any more tears left in her and she dropped off to sleep. Even after that, Jottie kept watch over her, noting the tracks of her tears, tallying the damage, laying it to Felix’s account, and allowing the beautiful scourge of fury to clean her heart of him.
When, at last, she came downstairs, she found Sol waiting for her in the front room. He whirled around as she entered, his face glowing. “Sweetheart. Jottie. My God!” he said, moving toward her.
She lifted her chin proudly. “Starting now, I decide for myself what’s right and wrong. Starting this minute.”
“All right.” He nodded. “That’ll be fine.” He slid his arms around her.
The Truth According to Us Page 40
