Elderberry Croft: The Complete Collection

by Becky Doughty

  This time, Eddie was dropping in on a daily basis, usually first thing in the morning, like he was making sure Donny was getting out of bed. Donny had already changed out two screens on the back of the trailer, replaced the showerhead with a water-saver unit, trimmed the bushes all along Mom’s side of the driveway behind the row of mailboxes, and changed the oil in her car. He actually enjoyed working with his hands just as much as Eddie did, but he didn’t like the fact that it felt like Eddie was babysitting him

  He turned to watch the girl from Space #12. She practically floated across the driveway to her mailbox, the last one in the row, and pulled out a small stack of letters and flyers. The half-smile she wore never wavered, then she continued on past the front of them and over to Myra’s. Probably to check on the invalid. Donny glanced back at Eddie, and couldn’t resist when he saw the way his big brother watched her. “She’s married. Or so I hear.”

  “Shut it,” Eddie barked. “And tomorrow, if you’re planning on showing up, you’d better not make a fool of yourself. You make her uncomfortable, I’ll make you uncomfortable.”

  Donny rolled his eyes and laughed. “I think you’re confusing attraction with discomfort, right, Ma?” She didn’t respond, but he didn’t expect her to. He knew whose side she’d take if it came right down to it. “Women don’t want nice and sweet and sappy. They want danger, and spice, and a hunka hunka burnin’ love. They like to feel a little rattled, right Ma?”

  “Looks like that philosophy’s working well for you.” Eddie hitched up his pants and headed for the door. “Thanks for lunch, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow at Willow’s.”

  “I’ll see you there, too, big brother. And don’t worry. I’ll be all spit-and-polished up and on my very bestest behavior.” Eddie’s words stung, but Donny had learned to deflect his blows with sarcasm. What did Eddie know about women anyway?

  When Donny first heard about the cookout, he’d had no intention of being there, hanging out with the park oldies. Besides, he’d been hoping for a chance to hook up with Sheena again; she loved fireworks and he couldn’t remember a 4th of July they hadn’t spent together. She hadn’t returned his phone calls, though, and he was beginning to think she was serious about him changing his habits. It riled him that everyone wanted him to be different than he was. Well, fine. If she didn’t want him, he’d find someone who did. And why not start with the lovely Willow Goodhope? Living just a few hundred feet away from him sure made her convenient. Yes, she was a classy broad, but he could class it up for a while. Maybe Sheena would notice and think twice about cutting him loose.

  The 4th of July cookout she was throwing for the residents of The Coach House Trailer Park would be the perfect opportunity to work his magic. He’d show up ready to help, ready to serve, ready to be there in whatever capacity she needed him. And if she really did have a husband out there, all the better; no commitment required. He’d be free to go back to Sheena when she came to her senses.

  Chapter 2

  The day dawned hot and dry, and by 9 o’clock in the morning, Edith was ready for a nap. She’d been up early to do some baking before the heat set in, and to have a little time alone. She loved having Donny around, but every time he moved back in, it was always an adjustment. She knew it was temporary—it always was—but this time, she hadn’t heard from Sheena. The girl, without fail, called her within the first few days to talk about the man they both loved, but this time, things were different.

  “Nope,” Donny said the last time Edith asked if he’d heard from his girlfriend. “I screwed up in a big way, and she’s really mad. But you know how it is, Ma. She just needs time to cool off a bit.”

  Unfortunately, Edith did know how it was. Donny wasn’t a little boy anymore, and if he didn’t figure that out soon, he’d end up with nothing, nobody. But Edith didn’t know how to tell him that without hurting his feelings, and she wasn’t going to be the one to do that. He’d been hurt enough by the people in his life.

  When her husband left the first time, the boys were little, just five and nine, and all three of them wandered around the house a little lost and uncertain. In the months that followed, Eddie seemed to come to some kind of understanding about the situation, and he fell back into the rhythm of boyhood, just a little more watchful and reserved than he’d been before. But Donny, for whatever reason, seemed to regress. He often woke up crying in the middle of the night, and started wetting his bed again after being completely potty-trained for almost two years. Then Winston came back, full of remorse and affection, and Donny blossomed, but it was the beginning of a rollercoaster ride for the little boy. Winston coming and going, Donny regressing and progressing correspondingly, and Eddie just rolling with the punches, steady and stable. She never had to worry about Eddie; he just seemed to have a clearer view of the big picture, not taking responsibility for his father’s presence or absence. But Donny, sweet Donny, he seemed to need more attention, more accolades, more validation, and he got it from whomever would give it to him; particularly, his women friends.

  Poor Sheena. She really loved him, and Edith’s heart hurt for what the girl must be going through. She wouldn’t step in, and she certainly wouldn’t take sides against Donny, but she sympathized wholly with Sheena.

  In that way, he was just like his father. If he didn’t grow up and take life a little more seriously, he would end up alone, leaving behind him a trail of hurt.

  The sounds of Donny waking up made her reconsider taking a nap. He’d slept in this morning—Eddie hadn’t been by to recruit him for some odd job—but now that he was awake, he’d be wanting breakfast.

  And she was missing money from her secret stash tucked inside the candy dish on the top shelf of her curio cabinet. That made it hard to sleep when Donny was awake.

  “Mornin’ Ma,” Donny mumbled, making his way into the kitchen and dropping into a chair at the table. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “I can make you some scrambled eggs and toast,” she replied, wondering, not for the first time, how he managed to feed himself when she wasn’t around. She was pretty sure Sheena didn’t wait on him hand and foot, but Donny didn’t appear underfed.

  “Sounds great. Do I have time to jump in the shower first?” He ran his fingers through his thick, brown hair, just beginning to turn steely at his temples, and stretched his arms up over his head. “I’m going to head on over to Willow’s place a little early; see if she needs some help getting things ready.”

  “That sounds nice,” Edith replied, careful to keep her expression blank. It did sound nice, but she also knew Donny. He didn’t offer to help anyone unless he thought he might be getting something out of it. Oh, he didn’t mind working; he just didn’t initiate it without a good reason. She knew this had a lot to do with the exchange between him and Eddie yesterday, but she wasn’t sure if Donny was just trying to make Eddie mad, or if he was considering pursuing the Goodhope girl. Either way, there was going to be some kind of fallout. Eddie would be livid, and Sheena would be devastated. Donny, like Winston, almost always got the girl. “Go ahead and shower. I’ll start the eggs when I hear the water go off.”

  Maybe she should call Eddie and give him a heads up. Maybe she should call Willow and give her a heads up. She waited until Donny had closed himself into the bathroom, then picked up her phone and dropped into the chair he’d vacated. But what would she say? If she let on to Eddie that she was concerned, he might come down on her for taking Donny in at all. She knew how he felt about her letting Donny come back; that was why she never told him until Donny was safely ensconced in her spare room. And Willow? She hardly knew the girl. Hello. My son is coming over to offer his services, but make sure you’re fully aware of what services he’s offering before you say ‘yes.’

  No, it wouldn’t do. Her hands were tied. She’d have to let things play out. Besides, Willow was a big girl; she seemed to have her head on straight. Pouring a third cup of coffee, a luxury she rarely allowed he
rself, Edith sat and listened to the soothing sound of the shower and gazed out the window at the row of potted plants on her small deck. It really was nice to have someone else in the house again.

  Chapter 3

  “Lookin’ good,” Donny quipped, nodding at his reflection. Freshly shaved, nose and ear hair trimmed, he’d brush his teeth after breakfast. His California-boy tan set off his sea glass eyes, and he practiced the move that made women pause, and look again. Cocked head, crooked grin, half-lidded gaze that drifted from eyes to mouth, then back up again. Never lower than the chin, not that first look.

  Willow Goodhope would never know what hit her.

  Streamers and paper lanterns on strings of twinkle lights crisscrossed the patio at Space #12, folding tables and chairs leaned against a tree, waiting to be set up, and two good-size grills were placed at the far end of the lot where the smoke wouldn’t get in people’s eyes. Donny recognized the propane grill as Eddie’s, the other had a bag of hickory smoke charcoal briquette’s leaning against it. His mouth was already watering.

  Willow’s front door stood wide open and he made his way up the steps, anticipating the chance to catch her alone. Poking his head inside, his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim interior, and he whistled his appreciation. The draped fabric and bold colors, funky lighting and mismatched furniture, it all made him think of some Middle Eastern harem. Even the air smelled heavy with the aroma of far-off places; spicy, tangy, intoxicating. He was really starting to like this girl.

  “Hello!” he called out, just as she stepped out of the tiny bathroom at the back of the one-room cottage, a damp towel draped around her neck. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, her hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail on top of her head, and she wore a pair of low-slung jeans, a black tank top, and flip-flops. When she saw him, she hesitated, like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Hi, Donny.” She was polite, but her tone was careful, and he felt the familiar challenge rising up in him. Gonna play hard to get, are you?

  “Hello, Willow Goodhope. Happy Independence Day.” He spoke slowly, almost a drawl, and took one step inside the door.

  “Happy Independence Day to you, too. Will you be coming to the cookout this afternoon?” She pulled the towel from around her neck and patted her cheeks with it, but didn’t come any closer. Was that a dismissal?

  “Actually, that’s why I’m here; to offer my help. Whatever you need, you name it; I’m your man.” He gave her his practiced look, satisfied when she pressed her lips together and blinked. She got the message.

  “Oh. Well, Eddie is on his way back with a ladder. He’s helping me hang the last of the lanterns out front. And Joe’s prepping the ribs at his place. Doc and Al will be here in about an hour to help with setting up tables, so there’s not much else that needs doing, at least not right now.” She squared her shoulders and took a few steps toward him. “But thank you for offering.”

  Not the response he was hoping for. “Eddie’s helping, is he? Doesn’t he have a toilet to fix or something?”

  Willow laughed, a sound too loud for the small room, and it grated a little on his nerves. “It’s a holiday, Donny. Eddie should have the day off, too. He deserves it.” She seemed to gain her footing, and she crossed the room to her little kitchenette; just a counter fit with a sink and a stove along one wall, an apartment-size refrigerator, and a round bistro table for two. The window above the sink, topped with a jumble of colorful scarves, looked out over the patio, and she busied herself there, washing up the dishes sitting on the counter. He didn’t miss the fact that she was setting two coffee cups, two plates, and two bowls upside down in her drainer.

  So Eddie was moving in on the married woman. Just like he’d done with Sheena. Donny would have to turn up his game. And play it cool.

  “Well, then, Miss Willow Goodhope, sounds like you’ve got everything under control. But you let me know if you think of anything I can do, all right? I’m a sure hand at the grill, too. I’m happy to man one for you.”

  “Thanks, Donny. I’ll keep that in mind. I think we’re covered, between Joe working the rib grill, and Eddie on the burgers, but if either of them needs a break, I’ll have them let you know.” She glanced over at him and smiled brightly, but kept her hands busy.

  Yes, she was dismissing him.

  “Until two, then.” Donny turned and started to walk away, then paused right outside the window where he was eye-to-eye with her. “Just make sure you send Eddie home to shower. He’s prone to forgetting that stuff, you hear?” Then he winked at her, and walked away, not giving her a chance to respond.

  He’d bring flowers. And a bottle of sweet, sparkling wine. Maybe Ma could loan him her car. And maybe her candy dish could loan him a couple more bucks.

  Chapter 4

  The day just got hotter, and by noon, Edith had a headache that wouldn’t subside, even with a double dose of aspirin. If she didn’t lie down and sleep, she wouldn’t be fit for the party today, and she really did not want to miss it. She hadn’t heard from Donny since he left two hours ago, and assuming Willow had put him to work, she made herself a turkey sandwich, then headed to her room. She drew the blinds on her windows, slipped off her shoes, and lay back on top of her bedspread. A half an hour would do her wonders, she was certain.

  She was just drifting off to sleep when she heard the front door open. Donny’s footsteps were recognizable; he had a shuffling gait that had defied her repeated entreaties to him to pick up his feet. She could hear him in the small kitchen, the fridge door opening and closing, water in the sink, a cupboard door shutting with a little too much force. Was he angry? She sighed; she would not go out there.

  The rummaging soon stopped, and Edith relaxed her shoulders. He was probably eating something. Her fatigue was beginning to pull her under, but then a sound just outside her door caught her attention. A footstep, light, careful. Why was Donny being sneaky?

  “Ma?” It was barely above a whisper, and something told her to stay quiet. “Are you asleep?”

  She clamped her lips shut and waited.

  A few moments later, she heard the telltale jingle of her keys, and wondered, regrettably, why she hadn’t thought to bring her purse and keys into her bedroom with her. The car started up outside, and the sound of the tires backing out over the gravel driveway reminded her of the old days, and Winston, sneaking off to do his dirty work.

  Her tears came, but she stayed where she was, stretched out like a sacrifice on the altar of motherhood. Maybe knowing nothing had changed would free her up to sleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  When Edith awoke nearly an hour later, her nose was a little stuffy, but her headache had faded. She sat up slowly, made her way to the window, and peered out between the slats of the blinds. Her car was parked exactly the way she’d left it, and she was certain she’d find her keys in her purse, hanging on the coat rack just inside the door, just the ways she’d left that, too. She would simply pretend nothing happened; she couldn’t handle anything else right now. Donny was a big boy. If he was doing something that would get him in trouble, it was probably better she didn’t know about it.

  Besides, it was almost one-thirty, and she needed to get her casserole warmed up for the party.

  By the time Edith made her way over to Willow’s, a crowd was already milling around the patio. She put on a brave face, smiled brightly at Myra, who sat like a queen in a chair by the stream, her foot propped up on a stool, hovered over by her brother-in-law, Jack. Doc and Al were parked in a couple of chairs nearby, sharing fishing stories. Edith located the hostess who was arranging various potluck dishes on a long, tile-top table under the eaves of the patio, out of the sun.

  “Welcome, Edith! I’m so glad you’re here!” Willow called out, waving a pale hand at her. The girl looked as fresh as a summer marigold, her red hair in a poof on top of her head, a few tendrils curling around her face and neck. “What delicious dish did you bring today?”

  Her effervescence was contagio
us, and soon Edith found her rhythm and settled into the camaraderie of the little neighborhood she loved. Joe and his gorgeous wife, Vivian, wore matching aprons, and worked in perfect unison, prepping and slathering and flipping large racks of ribs, chatting with the other residents, and flirting affectionately with each other.

  Eddie stood at the other grill, a long-handled metal spatula in one hand, his head dipped in concentration, not on the burgers, but on the woman who stood beside him, holding a platter of empty hamburger buns. She smiled shyly up at him, and Edith studied her for a moment. She looked familiar, but Edith was unable to place her.

  Willow appeared at Edith’s side, holding out a tray of cheese and crackers and sliced fruit. “Do you know Shelly Little?” she asked, nodding toward the girl with Eddie. “She lives in Space #8, right behind your son. When she asked how she could help today, I told her to make it her job to see that Eddie had everything he needed to make perfect burgers.” Edith looked up at Willow’s shining eyes, and laughed. She was playing matchmaker!

  “She seems to be doing a fine job, doesn’t she?” Edith quipped, responding to her hostess’ mood. “It’s lovely out here, by the way. What a wonderful thing you’re doing, bringing us all together like this.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad so many are coming!” Willow smiled appreciatively, and swept off to serve another guest.

  Shelly Little. Wow. Who would’ve believed it? Edith hardly recognized the girl. The last time she’d seen Shelly was months ago, and she was pulling out of the driveway in the early morning, her head ducked, almost furtively. She’d looked like a hunched over, little old lady behind the wheel of her big car; nothing like the demure, long-legged creature in her red and white polka-dot dress. The way Eddie was looking at her made Edith think that perhaps he, too, was noticing Shelly for the first time.