Mississippi Nights

by D. M. Webb

  “Nope.” She waved her hand at him. “Never too much.”

  “Good.” He reached to his side and shifted his radio over. The dang thing kept poking him in the side. “I don’t like having dinner with a picky eater.”

  “Oh? Then you’ve had lots of dinners with picky eaters before?”

  “Too many. All disasters.” He accepted the cold glasses of sweet tea from the waitress, giving her a smile that made her blush. “But those are stories for another time.”

  “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

  He pushed her glass of tea toward her as he sipped his. “What?”

  “Smile at the girls.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “You send them all into a twitter. Even Poppy was speechless when you smiled at her that day in church.”

  “Blame my dad. Inherited his charm.” He gave her his brightest smile. “Is it working?”

  Maggie giggled. “No. Boyish charms don’t work on me.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. The noise of the café dimmed as he stared deep into her eyes, watching a flood of emotions swirl in their depths. What was she thinking?

  Her lips parted as he asked, “How about my appeal?”

  She rose slightly, bringing her eyes level with his. Her tongue peeked out and wet her bottom lip. Somewhere he had lungs, but they had left him.

  Her voice was soft as she asked, “How about mine?”

  Slam. Her eyes twinkled like a dozen sapphires as she leaned back in the booth. David shook his head. The sounds of the café sang into his ears with their noise. Silverware was back with their symphony of clattering dishes. Quiet voices echoed.

  “Touché.” He sat back with a smile. “At least I know that you’re here because of me and not because of my smile.”

  Maggie toyed with her straw. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

  He laughed again and looked away. “Well, at least–”

  His radio squawked. He hung his head with a sigh as it sounded off in the café. “Station One, Station Two, report of a two car accident, possible injuries, Thomas Drive. Please respond.”

  Maggie waved at him. “Go. Go. I’ll see you again.”

  David forced a tight smile. “May I call you?”

  Her response was lost as his radio blared again. “Station One, request from PD, Rescue One needed.”

  No time to waste. He jumped to his feet and bolted, leaving Maggie at the booth. He hightailed it across the street to the firehouse, his lungs burning as the adrenaline pulsed through him. His mind replayed her look. She seemed to have been expecting something.

  Rescue One barreled out of the bay, barely slowing as he hopped up on the running board and pulled open the passenger door. Toby never spared a glance as he pulled out onto the road heading for Main Street.

  David gripped the radio as he settled onto the captain’s seat. “Dispatch. Rescue One en route times two.”

  With Engine One behind them, sirens screamed as they flew down the main strip heading for Thomas Drive, taking David farther and farther away from Maggie.

  : : : : :

  Maggie sat there. It was there on his face, his desire to kiss her again. She smiled. She’d let him, eventually.

  The waitress came to her table. “Do I need to cancel the orders?”

  Maggie shook her head. “No. Make them to go, please. And can you get me some to-go cups for the tea?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The girl bounded away, her ponytail swinging. Within moments, the girl had two large cups for the tea, the to-go containers steaming with the dinners, and a plastic carry bag. She gave Maggie the ticket.

  “Wait.” Maggie held the ticket out. “This is two meals. I’m only charged for one.”

  The girl shrugged. “Jack said to charge half price.”

  “Tell Jack I said thank you. And here.” Maggie held out a ten and five. “Keep the change.”

  A smile spread across the teen’s face. “Thank you.”

  As she fairly skipped away with the ticket and payment, Maggie bagged her items and left. The night turned a little chilly as the wind picked up. She could smell rain on the wind. For once, the forecasters actually got the weather report correct.

  Same as last night, the gates stood gaping wide open. She entered the quiet bay and tiptoed her way to the office. A fat ceramic pig, dressed in red fire gear, propped open the door. She chuckled as she passed it.

  The container almost tipped open as she pulled it out of the bag. Oops. She would hate for him to have to eat it off the desk. Hopefully, it would not cool off too much before he made it back. She dug through her bag and found her butterfly notepad. At the bottom was her pink sparkly pen.

  “David. Here’s your dinner. Guess it’ll be another rain check. See you Saturday at the riverside picnic. Maggie.” She slid it between the flaps of the container so that David couldn’t miss seeing it. “At least I didn’t put love on this one.”

  As she left the firehouse, her phone chimed. She pulled it from her pocket. “Hello?”

  “Miss Maggie?”

  “Poppy? What’s wrong?”

  She could hear the little girl sniffle. “Grandmamma’s not home.”

  Maggie held back her sigh. Poor girl. Third time this month. “Okay. Keep the doors locked. Don’t open for anyone but me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Okay, Miss Maggie.” The line clicked.

  She hurried across the street and around the corner to her truck. Anger ate at her. What kind of woman would leave a ten-year-old home alone? That woman didn’t deserve to have her granddaughter. At least Poppy had Maggie. She set the bag of food on the bench seat and started the truck.

  With a rumble, she pulled away from the small parking area, calling her dad as she drove. Agitation tangoed with her anger. She had to find some kind of balance before she picked up Poppy.

  He answered on the third ring. “Maggie, how’s the dinner?”

  “David got called out. But that’s not why I called, Dad. Josephine went off again.”

  His heavy sigh hissed across the phone. “You going to get her?”

  “Yeah. If it would do any good, I would have DHS out there, but you know they’ll just take her away. Poppy doesn’t need that.” Maggie bit back her tears. “How could the woman be like that?”

  “Honey, not everyone can love like you. Just pick up Poppy. I’ll get the couch prepared.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She closed her phone. Ahead, she could see the flashing red lights of emergency vehicles. Lights from cars and the streetlamps reflected off the firefighters’ gear and the police officers’ jackets. She sighed. And her night had seemed so hopeful.

  She took the right turn, leading her away from the rescue scene and farther into the poor side of town. Neglected houses stood in ragged formation along the street. Some yards sported clean, if not empty, yards, while others sported weeds, bare spots of ground, and junk as decorations. She shook her head; there was a difference between living in poverty and wallowing in it. Josephine Littleton wallowed in it.

  She pulled her truck into the narrow driveway and regarded the yellow stone house. Paint peeled at the window sills. Duct tape ran a spider web pattern across one of the living room windows. There was barely any grass to talk about. A long time ago, the chain link fence had fallen away, but no one had bothered to fix it or remove the sections that slumped to the ground.

  A curtain in the living room moved as Maggie exited her truck. Broken concrete jutted up from the sidewalk. Maggie sidestepped it and stumbled as her foot sank in the soft dirt. Her ankle popped.

  She hobbled up the steps. Poppy had the door opened before Maggie could knock. The little girl threw herself into Maggie’s arms. Her body trembled.

  Poppy’s voice spoke through Maggie’s shirt. “Thank you, Miss Maggie. I asked God to help me remember the number you gave me. Then I remembered it was in the little pink Bible. Then I couldn’t find my little Bible. Then I remembered I had to hide it from Grandmamma, so I put
it in my toy box.”

  Maggie closed her eyes against Poppy’s litany. Oh, Lord, she needed strength and calmness. She pulled the girl’s little, thin frame to her, holding tight.

  “God answered you, Poppy. Come on. Let’s get your clothes.”

  Poppy shook her head and hiccupped, tears brimming in her blue eyes. “I don’t have any clean. Grandmamma didn’t wash any. And the others, she took to sell.” She slipped from Maggie’s arms and rushed to the back door. “I’ve got my bag. Toothbrush, hair brush, and Sorta.”

  “Sorta?” Maggie followed her. Nestled against the small canvas bag was a black and white kitten.

  “Yeah. It’s a sorta cute kitten. I found her yesterday in the backyard. But, Miss Maggie, I don’t have any milk for it.”

  Two little outcasts. Maggie scooped up the kitten, cradling it in her hands. Fleas crawled over the poor creature. It mewled softly, nosing around. Maggie fought back another heavy sigh. The poor thing was barely even weaned.

  She stood. “Come on. Have you eaten yet?”

  Poppy picked up her bag. “Grandmamma left yesterday. I ate the last of the cereal this morning.”

  Heaven help her!

  Maggie bumped the door open with her hip and ushered Poppy outside. “Use the passenger side, Poppy. And there’s food on the seat.”

  The little girl ran to the side of the truck and climbed in. By the time Maggie made it to the truck, Poppy had the container opened and was digging into the mashed potatoes. She looked up with a big smile, her innocent eyes beaming as she shoveled the food into her mouth. So much for Maggie’s meal, but the little girl needed it more.

  Maggie set the kitten on the floorboard.

  Mashed potatoes flashed in Poppy’s mouth as she asked, “Will Sorta be okay down there?”

  “She’ll be fine. She can eat some of Samson and Delilah’s food when we get to the house. After we give her a bath.”

  Maggie backed out of the driveway and headed home. Poppy smacked away at her food, her bony, jean-clad legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the seat. Maggie fought the impulse to hold her nose. The poor girl must have been too afraid to take a bath while alone. Bet she didn’t go to school today, either.

  When she paused at the stop sign, she turned on her right blinker and prayed that the wreck wasn’t gruesome. As they pulled out onto the main strip, Maggie glanced over at the rescue trucks. Only a few remained. David was still there. She knew that stance. The red and blue flashing lights silhouetted his body. An officer directed them past the wreckage.

  Poppy, like all children, sat transfixed by the scene. She gasped and pointed. “Look, Miss Maggie! There’s Mr. David. Isn’t he handsome? You think he’s the boss? He seems like the boss. See, he’s pointing at the other man. What’s he saying? Can I hear what he’s saying?”

  Maggie laughed. From the look on David’s face, it was better she not hear his words. “No. And yes, he’s the boss tonight.”

  “Can we stop to say hi?” Poppy stuck another mouthful of potatoes in her mouth.

  “No. He’s too busy at the moment. It was a terrible wreck.”

  “Should we pray for them?”

  Maggie eased over to the other lane and sped up, away from the wreck. Away from David. “Yes. Prayer is always good.”

  She took a deep breath and drove home. Prayer was always good, but was it a sin to pray for someone’s punishment? She stole a quick glance at the little girl, now happily munching on the steak. Such a beautiful child to have such a horrible grandmother. She didn’t deserve to be alone.

  : : : : :

  Jeremy pulled his squad car up to the front parking space at Second to None. The lights were on, and there was movement inside the shop.

  He touched his radio. “J forty-nine. Ten-six at Second to None.”

  “Copy, J forty-nine.”

  He stepped out. The humid air of the night stuck to him. He glanced around. No one was about this time of night. His eyes traveled to the firehouse. The bay doors were closed. Guys were probably sleeping after that last call.

  A movement by the window caught his eye. He climbed the steps to the door and rapped on it, peering through the glass. The movement stilled. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the streetlamps and squinted. A shadowy figure made its way to the front.

  He pushed the tab off his holster and rested his hand on the butt of his gun. Relief surged through him as Maggie stepped into the light. Her body slumped in apparent relief.

  She turned the lock and opened the door. “Jeremy. You gave me a fright.”

  He smiled at her as he eased into the store. “What are you doing here so late?”

  Maggie relocked her door. She waved for him to follow as she retreated to the back. “I’m trying to find Poppy some clothes. She’s so skinny, and it’s hard to find something that fits properly, especially pants.”

  “Poppy?” He peeked into the box that she piled pants and shirts into. “What’s happening now?”

  “Josephine is in Memphis. I finally reached her an hour ago. She said she wouldn’t be back home until Sunday. Can you believe that?” A pair of pants shot into the box, rocking it back with its force. “The woman supposedly had a baby sitter for Poppy, and supposedly the baby sitter called and said she couldn’t make it.”

  Maggie threw another set of pants into the box. Jeremy took her hands and held them. “She left Poppy alone?”

  Maggie nodded. Tears brimmed her eyes. “I won’t call DHS, Jeremy. They will take Poppy away to some home or whatever. Josephine asked me to keep her ‘til Sunday. I’ll do it for Poppy, not for that hateful, old woman.”

  Jeremy put his arms around her shaking shoulders and held her. Tears soaked his uniform as she cried against his shoulder. He could think of nothing to say to her. There wasn’t anything to say. Some people were just like that. Never a thought about anyone else. “You have Poppy at your house?”

  Maggie pushed away, wiped her eyes, and continued packing. “Yeah. The stupid woman took her clothes to sell. So, here I am, finding–or at least trying to find–something for her. All I got at the house for her is the black and white dress. I keep it there for Poppy to wear to church. Too afraid to let that horrid woman get her hands on it.”

  Jeremy propped himself against a clothes rack. “What size is she?”

  “Oh, about an eight. And that’s with a belt. Sevens are too short. Unless we find a capri.”

  Jeremy held up his hand. “Stop. I have no idea what a capri is. Have you called Sarah?”

  Maggie stopped. “No. I didn’t want to bother her. It’s so late.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. “I think she still has a few of Sophie’s old clothes. Let me see.”

  “Oh, thank you, Jeremy!” She turned to her box and started closing the lid.

  Sarah answered. “Hey, baby.” A yawn escaped her. “You on your way home?”

  “Just about. Had one more stop to make.” He walked toward the front door. “Listen, Maggie has Poppy for a while, but Poppy’s grandmother took her clothes. Do you still have any of Sophie’s old ones?”

  “Yeah. I have them in the garage. They probably need washing. I’ve been meaning to give them to Goodwill. Just been forgetting to grab them.”

  “A reason for everything.” He nodded to Maggie as she approached with her box. “Sarah’s got Sophie’s clothes.”

  “Are you at Maggie’s?”

  “At the shop. Saw the lights on.”

  “Hand her the phone.”

  Jeremy held out his phone. “Here. Sarah wants you.”

  Maggie took it from him. She strolled toward the back of the store as she talked with her cousin. Jeremy sighed. What a night. First the wreck. Then his meeting with the informant. And now this.

  “Maggie, I’ll be at the car.” He slipped out. There had to be something on that woman. He opened his car and leaned in, pulling his terminal closer. He typed in Josephine’s name and address and glanced around the quiet and dark downtown squa
re. Nothing moved. All was quiet. The terminal beeped. He looked at the screen and sighed. Nothing.

  He leaned back. At least it was a blessing that Poppy had Maggie.

  She exited the building with her box. Jeremy unfolded his frame out of the car and accepted his cell phone. “Sarah said she’ll bring the clothes to the parsonage tomorrow. They should fit. If not, I can alter them enough.”

  Jeremy nodded. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I will be. Sarah said she’ll pick Poppy up from school. That helps since I only have one helper at the store. Ms. Axelbury only works on Fridays and Saturdays.”

  He took the box from her hands. “Where’s your truck?”

  She waved at the side facing the firehouse. “Over there.”

  He followed her. When she opened the door, he slid the box onto the seat. “You call us if you need anyone?”

  “I will, Jeremy.” She glanced at the firehouse. Her face creased in a frown before turning to him and forcing a smile. “I’d better let you get home before Sarah starts to think I’m trying to steal her man.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Okay. Come here, man stealer.” He wrapped her into a hug. She sniffed once and pulled back. “We’re here if you need us.”

  She climbed up into her truck.

  Jeremy walked back to his car and fell into the seat. Poor Poppy. He shook his head. He’d make sure that his routes carried him past the Littleton house from now on. It was the least he could do for the little red-headed sweetheart.

  He backed up his car, waved at Maggie as he drove by, and pulled into the station. He touched his mike. “Dispatch. J forty-nine at station.”

  He ignored their reply and pulled his gear from the side seat. Home was calling him. All he wanted was to curl up next to his wife and sleep for a thousand years. The cool interior greeted him. Five more minutes and he’d be out of here.

  : : : : :

  David parked the company car by the building. He rubbed at his eyes. B shift was not a well-oiled machine, especially Station Two. He dragged his body out of the car and rounded the corner.

  A flash pierced dark. The light at Maggie’s store flickered off. He frowned. She walked down the steps, carrying a box to a squad car sitting at the curb. Jeremy.