Crain's Landing

by Cayce Poponea

  “This is my street. The hospital is only two more blocks that way.” He pointed to the front of my car and then gave me a knowing glance. “Just keep following this road as it curves around.” This town was looking to be relatively easy to navigate.

  As we turned the corner, I noticed a small crowd standing on the sidewalk of a two-story white house. “That’s me, the third one on the left.” Dad kept his eyes on the road as we pulled past the crowd and into the drive.

  “What’s this? My welcoming committee or the town lynch mob?” I asked, only half-kidding. Late nights up either studying or rocking a teething baby gave me plenty of television time. I’d watched my fair share of Southern based movies, laughing at the dialect and silly antics. This, however, was real. These people would have an active role in how my daughter perceived the world.

  “Remember, Natalie, this is a different kind of life down here.” I knew what he was saying; he spoke fondly of all the little idiosyncrasies this town held for him. Boasting about the low crime rate and the spirit it possessed. Before I could get my seatbelt off and get out of the car, the screen door to his house flew open and a beautiful silver-haired woman came running down the front steps. The hem of her flowered dress flapped in the breeze behind her. Her short hair was curled tight and the frilly lace apron was neatly pressed and covered her clothes. A small strand of pearls decorated her neck. Black pumps glistened in the sunlight; she was June Cleaver in the flesh.

  “Oh, you’re home! You’re home!” The woman wrapped her arms around my dad and he her. They kissed, breaking only to look longingly into each other’s eyes. I blushed as I turned to open the back of my car.

  What I had assumed to be the neighbors waited patiently at the end of the drive. I counted seven of them, two ladies and five gentlemen. If I had any hopes of fitting in down here I was going to have to assert myself. Tucking away the inner child, who wanted to hide behind my father’s pant legs, I, instead, plastered on my best smile and extended my hand to the closest man who stood before me.

  “Hello. I’m Natalie Reid, and you are?” The silence that followed was brief and excessively uncomfortable. Instead of a handshake though, a pie was thrust into my hand.

  “Maybelline Dorchester, this is my husband Harold.” Maybelline resembled the lady who was currently occupying my father's attention. Her dress looked to have been sewn from the same bolt of fabric. Her bright red hair, obviously a wig that was older yet well-cared-for, had silver wisps of hair sticking out near her temple and ear. Where the lady, who now bounced with joy as my dad took Peyton out of the car, wore heels, Maybelline sported a pair of white canvas lace up shoes. Not a speck of dirt tarnished their brightness.

  “This rhubarb pie was made fresh this very mornin’. I had to wrangle it away from Harold here.” She nudged her head in her husband’s direction. “Now, Ms. Connie down at the diner will tell anyone who will listen that her pie is the best.” Her words emphasized with a flick of her glove-covered hand. “Lord knows that when she met her husband, the poor girl could burn water. I taught her ever’thing she knows ‘bout baking.” Maybelline spoke with such a deep Southern accent that I had to concentrate to understand what she was saying. Though just like one of those dashboard figurines, my head nodded and my smile stayed in place despite the humidity around me.

  “Mayor Marshall you better bring that baby over here.” Harold, the husband, finally found his voice and ignored his wife’s continuation of how she takes home every blue ribbon during the local festival.

  Maybelline thrust the pie into my hands and shoved past me to get to my daughter. I wasn’t completely certain how Peyton would react to having a stranger come at her. When Maybelline dropped to her knees and came face to face with my daughter, it was as if something magical happened. Peyton looked strangely at the perfumed and powdered person who spoke to her in such soft and yet completely adult tones. I listened in earnest as she questioned if her puppy had a name? Telling Peyton that when Mommy got settled she could come by and see all of her puppies that lived in her barn. A throat cleared beside me ending the moment and Maybelline returned to her spot next to her husband.

  A large, callused hand suddenly appeared in my field of vision. “Reverend Porter, First Baptist church here in town. I take my job as the town spiritual leader very seriously. Service is at nine every Sunday mornin’.” His words were so quick and rehearsed, I wondered if he practiced in the mirror every morning? “My eldest daughter works over there at the library for you, good girl that one. I ‘spect you to keep it that way.” His words were as firm as his handshake. I wondered if he was one of those shouting and pounding preachers that I had witnessed in movies. Made my decision to avoid his sermons a solid one.

  “Natalie, let me just introduce you to everyone real quick.” Dad had Peyton in his arms, a smile plastered to his face. I wondered if this smile was really there all along, waiting to come out after he and my mother split, or was it something he picked up after he won his election; perhaps it came after the welcome wagon left me. “You’ve met the Reverend. This handsome fellow is Gunny Stark, retired Marine.” Gunny stood proud in his starched khaki T-shirt, his bucket hat sitting atop his head, Marine insignia standing proudly in the center.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.” Gunny’s voice was deep and raspy, his handshake not as firm as the good Reverend’s, but it felt real.

  “The pleasure is all mine…Gunny. Is it all right that I call you that, Sir?” His face cracked just a little, his head nodded in affirmation.

  “My first name is Walt, but I do prefer Gunny. Spent so much of my life in the Marine Corp that I forgot I had a first name.” Shaking his hand, returning his genuineness.

  “Colton Barnes, I’d like you to meet my daughter and our new director.” Looking at Colton was a challenge in self-restraint. Judging by his attire, he loved the game of golf. From his short pants that ended where his knee socks met just at the top of his calf, to the knitted cap complete with colored tassel balls. His argyle vest of blue and yellow matched his pants a little too perfectly. His sunglasses were clips that snapped to his regular prescription eyewear. But it was his handlebar mustache that had me holding my breath to keep from laughing.

  “Pleasure.” That was all he allowed me.

  “Next is Beauregard Davis, owner of the local supermarket and gas station.” Beauregard Davis raised his eyes from his cell phone, gave me the once over as a twinkling began deep in his brown eyes.

  “Darlin, your daddy said you was pretty, but you my dear are enchanting.” The last word was emphasized with a kiss to the back of my hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” I pulled my hand out of his grasp before he could pull me in for a hug or, heaven forbid, kiss me.

  “Last, but certainly not least, Molly Hart.” Where the other women wore frilly dresses, Molly wore overalls and a straw hat. Her face lacked any makeup and wrinkles decorated her eyes, years of laughing and squinting evident. Her silver hair was collected in a thin ponytail that draped down her shoulder.

  “Now, honey, don’t you let ole Beau here make you want to cut off your own hand. He’s harmless.” She cast a warning glance in his direction. “In the off chance that he ever gives you any trouble, you give me a call.” Molly was the type of lady I could become friends with.

  “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” I winked in her direction as the sound of a siren came from behind us.

  I turned to my right and jumped back as a police car came to a screeching halt, lights and siren still going, the smell of burning tires flooding the air around me. Just like a scene from a tongue in cheek parody, the car door opened and out came the deputy. Long legs, wide brimmed hat, aviator-reflective glasses and a mouth full of chewing gum. He left the door open and the lights whirling, but thank God the siren had been turned off. He stood before us, hands on his gun belt, chin moving side to side with his chewing. “Mayor.” He spoke with what I could safely assume was the best bad assed voice he had in his repertoire.
For the second time today I found myself holding back my laughter.

  “Ah, Natalie. Allow me to introduce you to one of the city’s finest, Sheriff Dale Chisholm.”

  He tilted his hat in my direction and removed his glasses. As he lowered the frames, I noticed he came complete with the pork chop sideburns. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Mayor, I had some wise acker kids thinkin’ they owned the road over near the Johnson place.” The wad of gum glided from side to side as he spoke.

  “Good to know you’re keeping the peace,” Dad replied, his words seemed honest and I knew there was a story there. “Now, Natalie, Sheriff Chisholm will meet you at the library on Monday to give you the keys and a tour of the place.” I smiled at the two of them, nodding my head in external agreement; inside I had completely different plans.

  After many more handshakes and instructions on how to heat up the pie, the council members took their leave. I turned to my father, who had already begun to remove his items from the back of my car. It seemed there were things my dad had neglected to tell me. I wasn’t mad; he deserved to be happy after what she had done to him. He was far braver than me if he was willing to open himself up for heartache again.

  “Natalie,” Dad called my name as he walked hand-in-hand around my car with the woman. Peyton had fallen back asleep and I hoped she would stay that way long enough to get home. “Natalie, this is Peggy, my girlfriend.”

  He didn’t look at me as he introduced her; their eyes were once again locked in a moment. I could remember looking at Holden that way once. I shook the thought from my mind and turned on my smile, extending my hand out to shake hers. She had other ideas, though, and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

  “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than your pictures.” She hugged me tightly and rocked me back and forth.

  I looked at my father over the top of her shoulder; he only smiled wider as he watched us. She finally released me, but kept both hands on my shoulders.

  “Marshall, she’d be perfect for my nephew Josh.” She placed her hands on my cheeks, squeezing until my lips pursed. The smile on her face was so big it could have its own zip code. “Look at those perfect teeth. And her hips,” Her hands shaking her hips, nearly knocking me over from the movement. “Oh, the beautiful grandbabies we would have, Marshall.”

  Before I could protest, she threw her hands in the air excitedly and began speaking so fast I was hard-pressed to keep up. “I know...I’ll make my corn bread and have everyone over for dinner. It’ll be perfect as they stare at each other longingly. It’ll be a May wedding; she can wear an off-white dress since she clearly isn’t a virgin.” I was certain she was no longer speaking to me, more like about me.

  “Natalie, you’ll have to forgive Peggy, she reads far too many romance novels,” Dad mused as he pulled Peggy from her fantasy wedding. They both began to laugh as Peggy completely admitted she did indeed read them far too much, yet reminded him of the benefit he received from her hobby. I cringed at the thought of what the two of them did behind the closed door of his home.

  Peyton remained asleep as the adults spoke. Peggy insisted that “you never woke a sleeping baby, yet reserved a play date with her later.” I gently closed the back door and bid my father and Peggy goodbye. She had insisted I take a Tupperware container of food home so I could just relax after our long drive. I thanked her and escaped once again from her bear hug.

  I had placed my new address into my GPS when I first got the car back in New York. I hit the find button and discovered my new home was just around the corner. I was happy, but still leery, as I feared Peggy would feel the need to mother me. A mother was the last thing I wanted right now. I slowly backed out of the driveway and headed home. I checked my rearview mirror confirming Peyton was still asleep and sent up a silent prayer she would stay that way until I pulled into my new driveway.

  I turned onto my street and noticed the houses were a bit larger, but also nicely kept. I smiled when I pulled into the drive, thankful the leasing office had sent the garage door opener and keys with my father. I stopped the car and for the first time in a long while, I felt like things were going to be all right, as if I belonged here. After pulling into the garage, I removed my sweaty, sleeping baby out of her car seat. The motion caused her to open her eyes and a huge smile broke across her face.

  “Well, hello, my love.” I kissed her rosy cheek as she began to rub the sleep from her eyes. I shut the car door and slid the new key into the locked door and led into the kitchen. The property manager had explained the owners had purchased this house at a bank auction and then remodeled it. She’d sent me several photos of the home, but none of them had done it justice. I’d really lucked out when the agent told me it came fully furnished and decorated if I wanted.

  I ran my hand over the polished, granite countertops in the eat-in kitchen. The house smelled of new wood and fresh paint. The kitchen looked as if it were ready to be photographed for a magazine, instead of the spot where Peyton would decorate it with her spaghetti. I walked out of the kitchen and into what, I assumed, would be my new formal dining room. It was simple, yet decorated nicely with neutral accents. The next room was the living room, where the high ceilings and skylights made the room bright and inviting. The fireplace sat clean and ready for a roaring fire. Although, with the heat and humidity currently present outside, I doubted it would get much use. Down the hall I found a bathroom that was decorated in beige and white. It was classic and elegant. The next two rooms were empty and smaller. I decided one would be Peyton’s room and the other a playroom. I had gotten rid of her crib as I had plans of getting her a bed she could grow with. I had found one in a catalog that would be perfect and, according to the tracking site, it should arrive tomorrow. So for tonight, she would sleep in her playpen. The next room I was certain had been designed to be a den, but the owners had made it into an office. I loved how it looked out into the backyard. It was then that Peyton noticed the large play area out there.

  She pointed at the swing and shouted, “Me!” I relished in her joy and agreed with her, it would be hers while we lived here.

  The next room blew me away. It was my bedroom, decorated to look so sophisticated the massive size of it was quite impressive. The king-sized platform bed was the focal point and set against the far wall. The dark wood of the bedroom furniture only highlighted the blues and grays in the bedding and draperies. The head of the bed was covered in a mountain of pillows. I looked to Peyton as I walked hurriedly over to the bed. We both laughed as I flung us onto the mattress and into the pillows. I turned her on her back and began to tickle her and blow raspberries on her belly. After we’d roughed up the bed, enjoying the playfulness of tickling and singing her favorite songs, I glanced out the window noticing that daylight had drifted into dusk; the purple and gold hues biding the last remains of the day goodbye.

  I pulled Peyton from the bed and walked back into the kitchen. The Tupperware container Peggy had sent over held the makings for a large turkey and cheese sandwich, chips, cookies, and two juice boxes. The rhubarb pie would have to wait for another day. The thought of heating up that oven and in turn this house, was out of the question. As we sat at the kitchen island and shared the food, I couldn’t help but think that a slice of turkey had never tasted so good.

  After I cleaned up our mess and unloaded the car, the exhaustion of the day finally found me. I filled up the large tub in my bathroom that came complete with jets. I sat Peyton in the warm water amidst the mountain of bubbles, her toys joining her in the fun. She giggled and splashed before beginning to rub her sleepy eyes. I drained the tub, then dressed her in her pajamas. I lay beside her in my bed as she took a strand of my hair and quietly played with it. It was calming for not only her, but for me as well. Once she was snoring softly, I placed her in her playpen so I could go in and take a hot bath.

  I kept the jets off and the door open in case Peyton woke. There were candles around the tub, so I lit them and leaned back, enjoying the silence of the house.
Tomorrow I would need to hit the grocery store and see if I could find a discount store. I also needed to go visit the daycare center where I had enrolled Peyton. But most of all, I was dying to walk into that library.

  The next morning, bright sunlight streamed in through the blinds that I had completely forgotten to close last night. Peyton was still sleeping soundly in her playpen and I was shocked she had been able to sleep so much. I guessed the traveling was exhausting for her too.

  I decided to jump in the shower since I had a lot of things I needed to do today. I wanted to kiss the person who had decided the waterfall and side-spraying shower nozzles were a good idea, as I enjoyed possibly the best shower I’d ever had. Ready for my day, I found my sweet baby girl babbling away to her puppy my dad had given her. Once she saw me standing in the doorway, her arms went up and she smiled her famous happy smile at me. I quickly pulled her from her playpen and showered her with kisses.

  Peyton loved Pop-Tarts and I allowed her to have them only once in a while and usually in a pinch. With the grocery situation as it was, today would be one of those days. I had just finished cleaning her up and had my keys in hand to head out when my doorbell rang. I rolled my eyes as I thought it might be Peggy making an early morning visit.

  The heavy wooden door had the most beautiful cut lead glass inserts, causing the light coming in to be distorted. The two long windows on either side matched the glass. I opened the door, not to find a waiting Peggy, but the tallest blonde woman I had ever seen. She stood at my door looking like she was ready to walk the catwalk. Her clothes were a bit risqué for my taste, as her shirt barely held in her ample breasts. Her midriff was on full display and her short skirt…well, I was certain Peyton could have worn it and it might have even been small on her.