I must have looked puzzled.
"Come on, I'll show you. It's in the basement, and no one but me even knows it's there. She had it installed after Lonnie died. I should've told you about it, but there's been so much to do, and-"
"-and I trust you, Billy Lee" I finished the sentence.
He opened a door down to the basement and pulled a penny chain cord. Light shined down a very narrow staircase. I hate cellars and basements and caves and anything underground. Let the tornado whistle blow, and I'll ignore it. I'd rather take my chances swirling through the air with all the other debris than spend an hour in a musty-smelling cellar.
He moved an old Victrola to one side and squatted down to slide a metal suitcase away, and right there on ground level was the door of a safe.
"There we go. Combination is seven right, thirteen left, eleven right"
Every day brought a brand-new surprise.
The inside of the safe was about eighteen inches square and filled with papers, money, and more jewelry in little black velvet drawstring bags. I leafed through the papers and jewelry before putting it all back.
"I don't have time to deal with this right now. I've got to get the upstairs cleaned out first. One thing at a time. We'll go through the rest of it later and put that jewelry down here," I said.
Billy Lee shut the safe, twirled the dial, and moved the camouflage back over it. "Ain't inheriting fun?"
"I could write a book"
"Why don't you?"
"Are you serious?"
"Sure. You are so smart. You could write a book. You're funny too. Tell it just like you see it. Only . . ." He waggled his eyebrows. "Change the names to protect the guilty."
It began with a smile, which became a giggle, and then a full-fledged belly laugh I couldn't control. It was so infectious, Billy Lee caught it, and there we sat like two first-graders laughing our fool heads off, when the doorbell rang. We still wore stupid grins when we opened the front door to find Linda and Art ready for the afternoon's work.
On my way upstairs to work beside Billy Lee, an idea popped into my mind like a lightbulb in a bubble above a cartoon character's head. I could use the money we'd made today to help underprivileged girls get an education. I could create a Gertrude Martin scholarship to be given to the Tishomingo High School female senior who needed help to pay for college. Billy Lee and I could be on the committee to decide who would get the scholarship.
By suppertime Art and Linda had a van loaded top to bottom, and I had enough boxes to warrant a run to the Durant Goodwill store, but that would have to wait. The store would be closed by the time we could drive there that evening.
Billy Lee fired up the hibachi out on the back porch. I topped cut-up potatoes, onions, and fresh green beans with pats of butter, salt, and pepper and wrapped it all in foil to grill thirty minutes before he put on the steaks. I sat in the swing and watched him cook.
"What're you going to do with the money you made today?" Billy Lee asked.
"I'm thinking about a Gertrude Martin scholarship for a high school senior girl."
"That's a good idea," he said.
"What'd you think I'd do with it?"
"Pay for divorces for women who have cheating husbands. Or else set up scholarships to train them for jobs so they could support themselves."
"Hadn't thought of that, but it's a good idea. I like it better than a scholarship for a younger person. What makes you so smart? And, while we're at it, you have got to start telling me stuff."
He looked me right in the eye. "I do tell you stuff."
"You didn't tell me about Linda and Art"
"I forgot. I was thinking about the office and hoping you wouldn't be disappointed, and I forgot"
"Billy Lee, I love every single thing you've done in the house. It's as if you read my mind and produce what I want even before I know what I want"
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is, I'd been dreading going through all that junk today. If it hadn't been for all the gorgeous furniture you'd built, I might have torched the place just to keep from sorting and packing up all that stuff."
He chuckled, and the tension disappeared.
"You've really got to start writing some of this down, Trudy. You'd be-good- at it."
"I couldn't keep a train of thought long enough to write a whole book. Besides, we've got too much work to do for that right now. Are those steaks ready? I'm starving." I changed the subject.
Sometimes Billy Lee's confidence in me was just plumb scary.
By Thanksgiving we had the dining room finished and the living room semidone. The woodwork had been stripped and the walls painted, but we'd decided to wait until after the holiday for the floor man. Momma and Lessie were the only guests, but we ate in the dining room on Granny Molly's good china. Momma was off in la-la land and thought I was the waitress and Billy Lee was a movie star. She fluttered her eyelashes at him after he said grace and carved the turkey. "I swear I saw you play on that episode of The Golden Girls."
"Don't mind her. Just be glad she's not yelling and upset," Lessie whispered.
"This is new territory for me. I didn't know Momma could flirt," I said out the side of my mouth.
"You two should stop telling secrets. It's bad manners to whisper like that. You will upset Billy Bob and me"
"It's Billy Lee, Momma," I corrected her gently.
"I know Billy Bob Thornton when I see him. It'll hurt his feelings if you call him Billy Lee. He's been my favorite movie star for a long time, so don't try to play games with me. Now, get us some more tea. My glass is almost empty, and his is only half full."
"Yes, ma'am," I said.
Billy Lee followed me to the kitchen. "Play along with her. It's really kind of fun."
"For you. You get to be a famous movie star. I'm just a waitress who's allowed to sit at the table."
"But it is Thanksgiving, and you've got family," he said.
"Oh, no, you don't. You're not playing the orphan card with me today, mister. And if you're going to be Billy Bob Thornton today, then get on in there and keep her flirting and happy." I pushed him toward the dining room.
He patted me on the shoulder. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way. Did I ever play on The Golden Girls?"
"I don't know, but that's one of her favorite shows. If she says you were on The Beverly Hillbillies, don't argue."
"You got it," he said.
"Did you get the help straightened out?" Momma asked Billy Lee when we got back to the dining room.
"I sure did. She just didn't recognize me off the big screen. I look different without stage makeup. Tell me, what movies have you played in, Miz Clarice?"
"Oh, darlin' boy, I'm not an actress" She giggled.
"Woman as lovely as you, I'll bet you used to be °"
Momma blushed and fanned the heat in her face with the back of one hand. "No, I wanted to be, but my daddy said no. He said his daughters were going to marry and be good mothers. So that's what I was. I have a daughter who's away at college. She's going to be a teacher. I wish she'd be an actress, but I'd never tell her that. My daddy didn't let me be what I wanted, so I'll just keep my mouth shut and let her be a teacher. But she's so pretty and funny, she could be an actress. I bet she could play Blanche's daughter any old day."
I was learning more about my mother than I'd ever known or imagined, and it was all because of Billy Lee.
"Is your daughter Trudy?"
"Yes, she is. Do you know her?" Momma asked.
"I've met her."
"Well, imagine, what a small world it is. Do you think you could get her a part in one of your movies?"
"I might. Tell her to come down to the studio and audition for me," he said.
I tried to give him my best drop-dead look, but it just couldn't get past the silly grin on my face.
Lessie poked my arm. "See? She's happy even if she's not 'here.'"
"Thank goodness." I nodded.
Momma shot us each a look, and
we stopped talking.
"Now, I want to know what made you decide to go into acting," she said.
"It just seemed like it was the thing to do. I was out there in Hollywood and couldn't find a job doing anything else, and this scout asked me if I'd like to play on The Golden Girls, so I gave it a try."
She nodded seriously.
"I got that part and went on to get another. Pretty soon I was the star of a movie."
"Well, that's a wonderful story, Billy Bob, but I'm sleepy from this delicious meal. Would you take us home now?"
He played along and went to his shop, opened a side door, and drove out a 1970 Cadillac Coupe DeVille: a bright, shiny, red convertible with white leather interior. My eyes popped out of my head. He bundled the two old girls up in their coats and scarves, then helped Lessie into the backseat and Momma into the front. She held her chin up as if she were escorted every day in such style.
I didn't believe my eyes until he came back in the car. I met him on the back porch. The wind was chilly, and I hadn't taken a jacket. He threw an arm around my shoulders as we went inside.
"Where the devil did that come from?" I asked.
"The garage," he said.
"But.-. . ," I stammered.
"I told you when we went to Jefferson that I'd take you somewhere in my car sometime when we didn't have to buy lumber," he said.
"You didn't tell me it looked like that," I protested.
"So, you like it?"
"How many more sides to Billy Lee are there?"
"Billy Lee is just a plain old feller who likes different things. That old Caddy reminded me of one Gramps had when I was about four. He used to take me for rides with the top down. When I found one that had been restored, I bought it. I took your Momma and Lessie for a little drive, or I'd have been back sooner."
"Where?"
"Just up and down Main Street and out past the grade school. By then Miz Clarice was getting cold."
"You are an angel," I said.
"Me? Not old oddball Billy Lee Tucker."
"You've played on that, you rat. You know what people say about you, and you don't give a dang"
"You got that right!" He winked. "Now, how would you rate our first holiday in the house?"
"You're changing the subject, but I don't even care right now. It couldn't have been better unless Momma was in her right mind."
He picked up a tea towel and dried dishes as I washed them. "I didn't mind being a movie star."
"I'm sure you didn't." I couldn't keep the grin off my face. "Even though I was a waitress and without Crystal and with Momma living in a crazy world, it was happy."
"I wonder what set her off on that track today," he said, as we worked together washing dishes.
"Well, if I close one eye and squint the other one, I suppose you do look like Billy Bob" I pulled the plug on the dishwater and looked at him through squinty eyes.
He slapped the air beside my shoulder. "On that note, I'm taking a turkey sandwich home and taking a nap"
"See you later. And when you come back, you'll be plain old Billy Lee, so don't be thinking you're going to get any royal treatment now that Momma has gone home. And, Billy Lee, you really look more like Harrison Ford," I teased.
"I get royal treatment every day, Trudy." He was out the door before I could slip another word in.
Two days before Christmas, Billy Lee brought in a cedar tree and one of those stands that holds a gallon of water so the tree won't die and shed all its needles. He brought the decorations box down from the attic, and when he opened it, it revealed big antique lights and fragile ornaments in a whole array of bright colors. Linda and Art would have drooled over everything.
While Billy Lee put the lights on the tree, I drove to the dollar store to pick up a new tinsel garland. And that's when I ran into Betsy and Marty-and I mean smack-dab into them. They were coming out of the store as I went in, and there was no hiding from them the way they used to avoid Aunt Gert.
Marty smiled. "Enough of this. We only have one another, and I'm tired of not talking to you. I'm sorry I knew about Drew and didn't tell you, and I'm sorry for those things you heard in the bathroom at Gert's funeral. Forgive me?"
Betsy threw an arm around my shoulders. "Me too. We were awful. You have a right to tell us where to go, but we miss you."
"Forgiven," I said. I didn't tell them that it was Billy Lee's spirit sitting on my shoulder telling me to be good that made me do it. "On one condition," I went on.
They both looked at me.
"That you never say another mean word about Billy Lee. He's my friend, and if you say anything nasty about him, I intend to mop up the streets of Tishomingo with you both"
"Agreed," Betsy said quickly.
"Okay," Marty said.
"Then why don't you two come to Christmas dinner? We'd love to have you," I said.
"We'll be there. We were just moaning about our kids all having plans, and actually wishing Aunt Gert were still around so we could have dinner with her like when we were kids." Betsy grinned.
"Good. We'll see you at dinner in a couple of days," I said.
I bought three kinds of tinsel because I couldn't decide which one I liked best. I'd never had a real tree. Momma was one of the first generation white-tree owners with all red bulbs and tinsel, red velvet bows, and even a red angel on top. A few years later, white trees went out of vogue. Momma bought an artificial green tree and decorated it with white lights, gold tinsel, and multicolored ornaments.
When I married, we bought a fake green tree and updated it every couple of years as the new and better models arrived on the market. But they all paled in comparison to the cedar tree I gazed upon as I carried a sackful of tinsel into the house. I tossed my coat onto a rocking chair and watched Billy Lee string the rest of the lights, plug them in, and give a thumbsup shout when everything lit up the way it was supposed to do.
"What's that all about?" I asked.
"Gert and I were always happy when the lights worked one more year. She kept saying they should be retired, but I always liked the big bulbs better than those little twinkling things. Guess I've got old-fashioned bones. Grandma always had a cedar tree even when other folks had those fake ones, and I loved the big lights."
"I saw Marty and Betsy at the dollar store and invited them to Christmas dinner." I rubbed my cold hands together and thought of that lovely fireplace in the house by the lake.
"That's great, Trudy. We'll have lots of people around the table, and it'll be a wonderful Christmas!" Billy Lee said.
"You actually like this holiday?"
He was grinning so broadly that his crooked smile wasn't even crooked. "It's my very favorite."
He wrapped a tinsel garland around his shoulder and fore arm the way I'd seen him do extension cords before he put them away; then he handed me the free end. "It's your job to get it on just right. Fill in the holes where the limbs are sparse, and make it pretty. It's my job to keep walking around the tree until we have it all done"
I started at the top. Drape here, fill there, stumble over the light cord, bump into Billy Lee a dozen times. I hadn't had so much fun decorating a tree in my whole life.
"Well, dang it all, I dropped it again. I'm the queen of clumsy today," I said.
"Who cares? 'Tis the season to be jolly, remember?"
"Then we're right in tune with the season," I said.
We finished the garland, and I threw myself down into a rocking chair. "Break time. Let's rest a minute."
He went to the kitchen, took the quart of eggnog from the fridge, and poured two glasses. He handed me one and settled into a rocker. "It's looking good. Last year Gert just wanted a little two-footer, and we set it on the dining room table. She'd just gotten the news about the cancer, but she put on a good front. She probably wouldn't have even put up a tree, but she kept up appearances for me"
"You were good for her. I feel guilty that I didn't put forth more effort to be around her."
"
Gert understood. She knew you a lot better than you realize. I might have been good for her, but it was a two-way street. She was good to me. I loved that sassy old girl."
I'd finished most of the eggnog when the doorbell rang. Figuring it was a salesman or a religious group playing on the season for a donation, I dragged myself up out of the chair and hitched up sweatpants that were hanging off my hips. That alone was a Christmas present. Just that morning I'd looked in the mirror and found the hip bones I hadn't seen in at least fifteen years.
A cold north wind whipped around the edge of the house and through the doorway when I opened it. Crystal stood there like a stone statue.
I stared at her as if she was an apparition.
"Momma?" she whispered.
Her pretty blond hair, usually cut and highlighted to perfection, hung in limp strands. Swollen, red eyes and a fresh blue bruise across one cheekbone were the only things that gave color to her face. She wore sweatpants cut off raggedly right below her knees and old rubber flip-flops. She hugged herself in an attempt to keep warm.
Her voice quavered. "May I come in?"
I grabbed her arm, pulled her inside, and slammed the door. "I'm so sorry. You surprised me. Get in here out of the cold. You want some hot chocolate or coffee? Here, let me get you a quilt to wrap up in. You're trembling like a leaf. Have you got a fever? Where is your coat?"
"In the car with everything else I own, which is precious little."
I yelled toward the living room. "Billy Lee, it's Crystal!"
He peeked around the edge of the door.
I turned back to Crystal. "We're putting up the tree. Let me make you something hot to drink, and then you can help us, if you're staying that long."
She hung her head, and my heart went out to her. Who on earth had broken my spirited child down like this? If I found the sorry sucker, he was taking a midnight swim in Lake Texoma with a pair of concrete boots and a .38 slug between his eyes.
"Hot chocolate, please," she mumbled.
I went to the kitchen, and they both followed me. "Chocolate will warm you up. You're frozen"
She sat down at the table. "I need to talk to you."
Billy Lee pulled out a chair and sat down.
The Ladies' Room Page 17
