Mississippi Nights

by D. M. Webb

  She didn’t know what to say. To have lived with that pain. The torture that he put himself through. Her brows drew together. No matter what, he needed her.

  She grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his face. Tears enhanced his eyes, darkening the lashes. “Come here.”

  With slow movements so the boat wouldn’t tip over, she knelt in front of him and brought his head to her chest. His arms encircled her, holding on for life. She laid her cheek against his head, the hair tickling her nose.

  He needed another haircut. She buried her fingers in the long strands and kissed his head. Her David. So much hurt and pain consumed him. She looked heavenward. Oh, please let him find peace. Let him see that someone loved him.

  “It ate at me.”

  “It will when you keep it to yourself, love. David, look at me.” She pushed him away.

  He lifted his face to hers. His finger reached out and traced her lips. “You don’t think badly of me?”

  “Oh, sweetie, no.” She captured his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips. Tears slid down the side of her face. “You grieved for Rebecca, but you never allowed yourself to grieve for your child. It’s time. You need to let go of the pain. Let God heal you, love.”

  Fresh tears pooled in his eyes before, one by one, they trickled down his cheeks and over the faint bruises. “You’re too good for me.”

  “Shh. No such thing. We were brought together for a reason. Now, cry to your heart’s content. Let the pain go.” She pulled him to her again and held him. Her arms held him against her chest. His body shuddered with each wave of pain.

  Time slowed.

  The sun broke through. Its bright rays played against the water, glinting into her eyes. Ducks in the distance glided towards them, calling out in greeting.

  His shudders slowed until they stopped completely. Her shirt stuck to her chest, wet and hot. He sniffed.

  “They want bread.” David pulled away. He swiped at his cheeks and gave her a trembling smile. “Mom’s been feeding them.”

  “And that’s why you brought the stale crackers along?”

  “Well, if I didn’t, they wouldn’t leave us alone.”

  Maggie laughed. “You did it because you like feeding them.”

  He ducked his head as a blush colored the tips of his ears. “Don’t tell Mom. I enjoy giving her a hard time about the quackers.”

  She brushed a thumb across his cheek, wiping away a trail of wetness. A softness dominated his eyes now. “Better?”

  “I am now.” He captured her hand and held it, threading his fingers through hers. “I . . .”

  Maggie placed a hand on his mouth. “Shh.”

  He tensed for a second as her hand left his mouth and her lips met his, but he sighed and relaxed. His lips moved with hers in a gentle, soft kiss. The first one they shared since he left the festival.

  She smiled against him, her hands still looped around his neck. “Let’s feed the ducks before they climb into the boat.”

  : : : : :

  Jeremy waved to Maggie as she drove away. A clatter echoed from the garage. He stepped over Fat Tom and spied David in the corner, head buried under the hood of his Fastback.

  “You think you’ll get it running?”

  David’s head popped up and whacked the hood. He grimaced and threw him a hard look. “Eventually. What’s up? You checking up on me?”

  “That. Plus, Sarah asked me to drop off some stuff for Mom. Scrapbooking things.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Maggie took. “You and Maggie good now?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah. We worked it out.” David reached for the bottled water and took a swig. He sighed and returned to the motor. “She had to go check on Mrs. Axelbury at the store.”

  Jeremy stepped up to the car. The oppressive heat in the garage prickled his skin. His department hadn’t released the summer uniforms, and rolling up the sleeves didn’t help one bit. He picked at his uniform and pulled it away. “Anyway, I was heading in to work and thought I would see how things were going with you.”

  David sighed. “I’m fine. I won’t lie and say that I don’t crave a drink. I do. All the time.”

  “Dad said you had a bad night the other week.”

  A scowl marred David’s face as he took another drink from the water bottle. “Did he? Should have known he would tell you.”

  Jeremy leaned his hip against the side of the black car. “He called Darlene too. For prayer, stupid. Not to gossip.”

  He hopped away as David swung a greasy wrench at him.

  “David.”

  “Jeremy.” A malicious smile flitted across David’s face and disappeared, but a hard look still gleamed in his brother’s eyes.

  “I’m heading into work. Don’t mess with the uniform, man. We’ve got inspection today.”

  David snorted and resumed his engine work. “Well, be a good boy and head on to work.”

  “You’re really out of sorts today.” Jeremy arched his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the plastered shirt off his back. David’s water bottle sparkled in the sunlight and overhead lights. “Why didn’t you just push the car outside to work?”

  “Shade in here.”

  Jeremy picked up the bottle. He frowned. “It’s not cold. Whatdja do? Just get it from the pantry?”

  “Mom didn’t have any cold ones, but that’s fine with me. Learned to drink what I could get.” He made a grab for it.

  Jeremy pulled away from his greasy hand. “Hold up. It’s hot. Just want a drink.”

  As he unscrewed the top, David gritted his teeth.

  “There’s a cold one inside. I put them in earlier. Go get one.”

  “Nah. Just need a swallow is all.” Jeremy lifted the bottle. David’s hand closed over it just as the hot, burning liquid coursed down his throat. Jeremy gasped and ripped the bottle from his brother’s hand. He slapped his palm against his brother’s chest. “Vodka!”

  David closed his eyes. “I just needed a small drink. To calm my nerves. That is all.”

  Jeremy closed his fist over David’s shirt and pulled him closer. “You can’t have any drink whatsoever. Don’t you understand that?”

  David slapped at his hands, knocking them loose. He made a grab at the bottle, but Jeremy threw it across the garage and into the driveway.

  “You–”

  A fist slammed into his face.

  Jeremy fell against the concrete floor. Just when his lip had healed. He spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. David strode across the garage toward the bottle.

  Jeremy jumped up, grabbed his brother by the back of his shirt, and hurled him into the wall. He pressed David against it, his arm across his throat. “You are so dumb. How are you going to quit if you keep slipping in drinks?”

  “I can. I need it every once in a while.”

  “You idiot.”

  Jeremy doubled over as a knee rammed into his stomach. David’s fist slammed across his cheek.

  David sprinted over him, but Jeremy grabbed his brother’s leg and sent him sprawling over the floor. He jumped to his feet and approached David, who staggered to stand.

  Jeremy cut his brother’s curse short with a quick jab to the face. David rolled with the punch and delivered a wicked blow into his side.

  Jeremy grappled with David, each trying to find a good hit. Jeremy took another blow to the side. He snarled and sent David stumbling into the driveway with a push.

  David clenched his fists and glared as he approached.

  “Stop it, David.” Jeremy stood his ground. He winced. It was going to hurt taking his brother down this time.

  David swung a right hook at him. Jeremy blocked him and grunted as David’s left connected with his ribs. He ducked another swing and delivered his own blow against his brother’s ribs.

  David fell to the side, holding his ribs. Yeah, not completely healed yet. Jeremy grabbed David’s shirt and rammed his knee into his brother’s face. He snarled. His stu
pid brother needed to be taught a lesson, one way or another.

  David grabbed his leg. His breath left him as he landed on his back.

  A fist hammered down on him. Jeremy took a blow to the chin, parried another, and then captured his brother’s fist in his hand. He jacked a leg up into David’s back and sent him into the ground behind his head.

  He rolled over and pinned David down, his legs holding David’s down. He had almost two inches on his brother, and he’d use every last one to keep the hothead under control. David’s head banged against the hard ground as Jeremy plowed his fist into his face. His knuckle opened a cut on his brother’s face. Then he was on the ground.

  Jeremy bounded up to leap back at his brother and faltered midstep. His father stood there. Red anger flushed his dad’s face. David gingerly picked himself up from the ground. He spat a wad of blood from his mouth.

  “What is going on?” Dad’s bellow scattered the birds from the oak tree. He moved to stand between them. His arms splayed to his sides at chest level, keeping them away from each other. “Jeremy?”

  “He’s drinking again.”

  “You–” David leapt for him, but his dad’s hand held him back.

  Dad pulled David closer. David grabbed at his father’s hand and looked away. “That true?”

  “Big deal. I watered down the vodka.” David sagged against the hold on his shirt.

  Jeremy snarled. “You idiot. It’s still alcohol.”

  His dad’s hand slammed into his chest and hauled him closer. “You, shut up. Alcohol addiction isn’t easy.”

  He pushed at them. They stumbled back. “David, Jeremy, with me.”

  Jeremy looked at his brother as he skirted a wide path around him and followed their dad. His dad found the bottle, half empty on the driveway. He picked it up and handed it to Jeremy.

  “What do you want me to do with this?”

  Dad faced him. No emotion showed. A coldness from his eyes raked over him. “You will hold it.” He turned to David, who stood well behind them. “And you, where are the rest of them?”

  David glared at Jeremy and then limped forward, hands in pockets.

  “Jeremy.”

  He glared at David’s back and followed, pouring out the watered-down vodka as he went. Dumb-headed brother. Always causing trouble. David stopped in the corner of the garage and pulled a bottle out of the small toolbox. He handed it to their dad. Jeremy accepted it when it was passed his way.

  Without a sound, Jeremy followed David around the house as he went to the old grill. Another bottle of liquor was passed to him. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at the label. José Cuervo. Good tequila.

  Soon, four hiding places later and with Jeremy’s arms laden with bottles of liquor, David turned and shrugged. “That’s all.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes for a moment and then turned to Jeremy. “I want you to carry your brother’s burden to the laundry room. There you will hold them until he empties every last one.”

  Their dad walked past the hedgerow. Jeremy turned his gaze to David. His brother stared back through a dust-covered face.

  The bottles stacked in his arms were at risk of falling to the ground. They needed to get this over with so he could clean up and get to work. “After you, dear brother.”

  David scowled. Jeremy followed him through the patio door, past the kitchen, and into the laundry room. Jeremy started to put the bottles on the counter, but his mom’s voice spoke from the kitchen.

  “Your dad just called from the pond. He said that you had to hold them. You cannot put them on the counter.”

  She peeked around the door jamb. “And David, you have to pour each of them out. Go ahead.”

  “You’re watching?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s for you two to do alone.” Her eyes traveled from one to the other. “Remember when you two used to fight growing up? So many fistfights, until one day, your dad sat you down and explained the role of brothers.” She smiled softly. “I love you two, but y’all are really trying my patience. You need to find your peace or I swear, I will take you to task.”

  Jeremy hid his smile. His little mamma whooping up on them drew a reluctant smile. He glanced up at David, who pressed his lips tightly together. A faint dimple in his cheek was the only indication that he was hiding his own amusement.

  David met his eyes. Jeremy couldn’t help it. He smiled and then started laughing. David joined in.

  His mom glared at them. “Men!”

  She stomped off. “And make sure you wash it out of the sink. I won’t have my laundry room smelling like a brewery.”

  They chorused. “Yes, ma’am.”

  David drew in a breath. “Guess I should get started?”

  Jeremy stepped closer to his brother and the sink. Dad and his lessons. First the Bible school lesson and now this. He nodded at the far right bottle of Bacardi. “Take the rum. It’s about to fall, and then we’d be sweeping and mopping. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to add housework to the list.”

  David drew the bottle from the pile and twisted off the top. He upended it. The brown liquid splashed into the sink. “Neither do I.” He threw the empty bottle into the trash can.

  Jeremy nodded to the tequila bottle. “That’s the next one.”

  David pulled it out of his arms. “I’m sorry. I really am trying.”

  Jeremy heaved a sigh. “I believe you. Just don’t mess up again. You can do this. Okay?”

  His brother’s back tensed as he poured the drink down the drain. “I hear you.”

  Jeremy handed him a bottle of Glen Livet. His brother sure had expensive tastes. He gazed at David as he opened the bottle and pulled the cork. David might have heard, but did he listen?

  He looked at his arms, holding his brother’s liquor bottles. He heard his father’s lesson. Apparently he was to be his brother’s keeper. Just great. Just absolutely great.

  Chapter 18

  “WE’RE LEAVING NOW, SON.” David’s dad pulled open the door and regarded David while he sat in the easy chair, reading a magazine.

  “Okay, Dad.” He didn’t look up from the page.

  “Enjoy your day off, sweetheart.” His mom kissed the top of his head.

  David smiled up at her. “Oh, I will. I shall enjoy my time away from fire, smoke, car wrecks, and washing trucks.” He patted her hand. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m okay today.”

  She smiled, but the worry still lingered in her eyes.

  “Come on, Leigh.”

  His mom shuffled out, carrying a large bag filled with scrapbooking material for his sister, and his dad stared at him.

  David smiled and poured all the charm he could muster into his expression. It had to reach his eyes. “Have fun at Darlene’s.”

  “Want us to bring you anything?”

  David shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. I’ll fix a sandwich or something. I just plan to sit back and relax today, maybe go fishing. Heading to the pool later with Maggie.”

  “Okay. Love you, Son. Call us if you need us.” With one last look, his dad closed the door.

  David waited until he heard the motor of their car start and the crunch of the gravel. His magazine hit the floor as he hurried to the window. The sheer curtains in the living room billowed slightly from a breeze. His parents’ car disappeared around the curve, and he counted out one full minute–just in case Dad fully read him. No car came back.

  The longing called out even louder, and he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Shame knocked at him, but he pushed it away and turned his back. Not this time.

  He was smarter now. He had been more careful about where he stashed his bottles. His mom and dad still searched periodically in the house for any of his drinks.

  He whistled as he turned and walked out the back door. Plenty of time for a quick drink before Maggie came to get him for their date at the pool. Fat Tom hopped up on the wrought iron patio table and gazed at him through slitted eyes. David narrowed his eyes at
the feline. Dumb cat acted as though he could read David’s mind.

  David ignored him and trotted to the storage building, the grass cool under his bare feet. He pushed open the door. The ladder hung on its hooks along the side wall, and he wrestled it down. It left marks along the floor and in the dirt as he dragged it out and around the back of the building.

  Pieces of black shingles broke off as he leaned the ladder against the wall. He shook the ladder once to settle and balance the feet and then climbed. The bottle gleamed under a few leaves. David knocked the leaves away and grabbed the bottle with his right hand.

  A grin stretched its way across his face. Talk about being in the gutter. He climbed down, bottle safely gripped in his hand.

  His chaise lounge sat at the water’s bank, and David walked to it, his opened shirt flapping out behind him. He fought the impulse to look over his shoulder. No reason to feel guilty. No one else was there.

  The chair creaked slightly as he settled onto it. It was still early morning, and the sun hadn’t popped over the trees yet. Quiet permeated the small pond. Even the pesky mockingbirds were not around. He heard a quack. There they were. His mom’s ducks regarded him with doleful eyes and swam past, quacking at each other.

  His gaze returned to the bottle in his hands. He got it. Now to drink some of it. His hands shook as he peeled the label off the top. Just a small drink. One little swallow and then back into hiding.

  The clear bottle glinted at him, and David brought it to his lips. His hand shook harder.

  He hung his head. What was he doing? He couldn’t have a drink. Not now. He had been dry for two weeks. He promised his parents–and Maggie. She would be here later. He couldn’t disappoint her.

  But hadn’t he been disappointed before and lived through it? Yeah. Better to quench that small thirst than to waste his energy fighting it. Save his energy for his time with Maggie. Maggie and her little pink one-piece. Besides, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Buck up!

  The pungent sweet smell of the rum reached him. David closed his eyes and inhaled. Such a soothing aroma.

  The liquid shot straight into his bloodstream. A small bit dribbled down his chin. Oh, how he missed that feeling. That buzz. He wiped off the drop and took another sip. It wasn’t as smooth as Jim Beam or vodka, but it felt good.