“Can I get you boys something to eat? Or should I go over there and see if my grandson wants another glass of milk?”
“I…we just…I’m sorry, Raynelle,” the troublemaker said, removing the offensive cap and dropping it in the chair next to him. He looked back over at the boy who had prompted his earlier laughter. “I didn’t know he was your grandson.”
She took his menu and smacked him on the head. “It shouldn’t matter whose grandson he is. You know better than to act like that. You just be glad it was Jackie over there and not AJ’s mama. If Rosemary had heard that, I’d be mopping your guts off the floor by now.”
“Sorry.” He directed his apology this time to AJ, Jackie, and Abigail.
“Now how about I fix you boys an iced tea to go and you come back another day?”
They nodded and stood, hanging their heads as they walked between the tables to the cash register near the door.
“What’s so funny about my hair?” AJ asked, rubbing his head.
“Nothing, except it’s got pancake syrup in it now, silly,” Abigail answered, reaching over to wipe a glob of the sticky goo from his crown. “Come on, let’s go wash it out.”
Jackie stood up to let her out and sat back down just as Raynelle dropped into the booth across from her.
“That was good, you standing up for Antoine like that.”
“I can’t stand those redneck assholes.”
“They’re never going to change, Jackie. They straighten up when you box their ears, but it runs too deep to last very long.”
Jackie chuckled. “You’re pretty good at that ear-boxing, Raynelle. I’m just glad it wasn’t mine for a change.”
“You haven’t done anything stupid lately, at least not anything I’ve heard about.”
“Then you better wish me luck on the Irish setter we’ve got down at the shelter. His time’s up on Monday and I’m not about to let him go down.”
Raynelle shook her head. “What are you going to do with another dog, Jackie? Abigail’s gonna walk right out that door.”
“No, she won’t. But she’ll be madder than a shaved cat for a while, so you better get used to seeing my face at the counter.”
“You’ve got a good heart, Jackie. But Abigail’s right. You two are going to have to start being smart about your money, or you’re gonna wind up just like me—old and wore out, with nothing but a rundown doublewide to show for it.” She nodded her head in the direction of the bathroom to indicate the return of Abigail and AJ. “I want better than that for my girls—and that means you too.”
Jackie nodded sheepishly. “I know. We’ll get there, Raynelle.”
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Raynelle announced as she stood, clearing the way for AJ to slide back into the booth. As she walked away, she turned and said one more time, “I’m proud of you, AJ.”
“What did you and Mama talk about?”
Jackie shrugged, unable to hide her now-sullen mood, but not yet ready to bring up the subject of Danny Boy again. “Rednecks.”
“You ready to go?”
“Sure.” Jackie turned over the check and looked at the total. Then she pulled a twenty from her wallet and set both under the saltshaker.
“Don’t you want change? That’s a four-dollar tip,” Abigail whispered.
“It’s for Wanda. She’s working hard. She deserves it.”
“You work hard too, Jackie. You can’t just go giving your money away like that.” Abigail dug two-fifty in change from the bottom of her purse and dropped it on the table. “Every little bit helps,” she added, handing the twenty and the check to Jackie as they walked toward the cash register.
“I need to stop off at the Kwik-Mart for some milk. Do we need anything else?”
Abigail shook her head. “No, but don’t buy a big one. I’ll go to the grocery tomorrow, and I can get a whole gallon for what the Kwik-Mart gets for a quart.”
“I’ll be home by seven.”
“I know,” Abigail said. Jackie hardly ever missed Jeopardy!
***
Jackie pulled up to the gas pump at the Kwik-Mart, waving at the clerk inside as she got out of the truck. As she filled her tank, she pondered Abigail’s observation about convenience store prices. What she didn’t understand was why gas was cheaper here than over at the service station, but everything else was more expensive. And did it make sense to drive all over town to get the best price if you always ended up here putting the money you saved into your gas tank?
When the pump stopped, she hung up the nozzle and headed inside. “Hey, Robin.”
“Hey, Jackie.” The clerk was watching three teenagers who were clustered in the comic book section. “Y’all are supposed to buy them books before you read ’em. Now pick one and bring it over here or get on out.”
Jackie grabbed a quart of milk from the cooler and headed back toward the counter, where the boys were pooling their change for a single book. “You short?”
One of the boys nodded grimly. “About fifty cents.”
Jackie looked at the cover price. “Two twenty-five! I can’t believe those things cost that much. I remember when they weren’t even a buck apiece.” She dug into her pocket for some change. “Here you go.”
“Thanks!”
“No problem. Just do something nice for somebody and we’ll be even.”
The boys grinned and headed out.
“Is that all you need, Jackie?” Robin took the milk carton and scanned it with her barcode reader.
“Yeah, I guess.” Her eye caught the lottery machine. “What’s the Powerball up to this week?”
“Somebody won it so it’s back to ten million.”
“I could use ten million.”
“Couldn’t we all? That’s a dollar ninety.”
Jackie pulled out three wadded singles from her front pocket. “Here’s another buck. Might as well throw in a ticket.” Just like that, she had squandered the dollar and a half Abigail had taken out of Wanda’s tip.
“Here you go. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Jackie shoved the ticket into her wallet and headed home. If she got there before Abigail, she could take the dogs out and straighten up the house a little. That might help her case if Danny Boy didn’t find a home tomorrow.
***
Rosemary trudged into the small living room of her tidy three-bedroom house and plopped down on the sofa, unconsciously assuming the same slouch as Abigail. The two were unmistakably sisters and, though a year apart, almost identical except for Rosemary’s bright red hair. “I hate ‘girls night out,’ Abigail. I don’t know why I go. All they want to do is get picked up.”
“Ah, the mating ritual. If it’s any consolation, it’s worse with lesbians because everybody in the room has been with everybody else.”
“That would suck.”
“Did you at least have fun at dinner?” Abigail had jumped at her older sister’s request to keep her nephew while she went out with some girls from work. Rosemary had hardly socialized at all since Antoine died, and it was nice to see her do something with her friends again.
“It was all right. Marlene’s funny as hell anyway, and watching her drink three beers just about makes it all worthwhile.” Rosemary leaned back and rubbed her eyes. “I just wish I felt more like…I don’t know…I don’t care about meeting anybody right now.”
“It’s only been what? A year and a half? That’s not all that long, Rosie.”
“It seems like a lifetime to me,” she said sadly.
“I know. But we’re all here for you, whatever you need.”
She chuckled. “AJ told me Jackie got up and yelled at some assholes at the restaurant.”
“Did he actually use the word assholes?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry about that.”
“What happened?”
“They were just a couple of rednecks.”
“AJ said she told them about Antoine.”
“Yeah, she pinned their ears back pretty
good. Then Mama came over and smacked them with a menu. They apologized and left.”
“It never stops, does it?” Rosemary sighed and threw one of the couch pillows across the room.
Abigail didn’t have any words of comfort for what was obviously a fact of life—at least a fact of Rosemary and AJ’s life. Most people in Sumter, or anywhere else in Tennessee, couldn’t accept a white woman marrying a black man, and they had nothing but pity and contempt for a child of mixed race. It didn’t matter what sort of person Antoine was, that he had loved his family dearly, or that he gave his life for his country.
“Some days I feel like just picking up and moving back to California, where people won’t stare at AJ like he’s got some sort of disease.”
“You can’t take AJ away again unless you have room for all of us to come live with you.”
Rosemary laughed and got up to retrieve the pillow, fluffed it, and placed it neatly on the couch. “You and Jackie would like San Diego. People are open and accepting.”
“It’s not all that bad for us here. All the people we care about are okay with who we are, and we don’t give a shit about the ones who aren’t. It isn’t anybody else’s business.”
“I don’t give a shit about those people either, Abigail. But it’s different with a little kid. I can’t stand to see how they look at him and turn up their noses.”
“What would you do if you could do anything?” She and her sister had played this game since they were little girls.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“I’d buy a house over in Burnsville and put AJ in the Christian Academy.” The quickness with which she delivered her answer told Abigail that she had been thinking about it for quite some time.
“That sounds like a workable dream.” For both of them, real dreams had to be within reach, things they could make happen. All the others were silly and a waste of time. “What would it take for you to do that?”
Rosemary shook her head. “I don’t want to move to a dump, and that’s all I’d get in Burnsville if I sold this place. And I’d need a better job at the bank to pay his tuition.”
“Don’t you still have some money from the government?”
“That’s for AJ’s college. I’m not going to touch it.”
“Yeah, that’s how we are about our savings. I’ve put about a thousand dollars in there in the last three years.”
“That’s the money for your house, right?”
Abigail nodded. “But at the rate we’re going, it’ll be an old folks’ home.”
“So what would you do?”
“If I could do anything?”
“Anything.”
“I’d quit work and go to school full-time so I could get a job in radiology.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“You’re kidding, right? About a thousand dollars a month in bills coming out of twelve hundred in take-home pay.”
“But you and Jackie pool your money, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but she has her truck payment—”
“On that old bucket of bolts?”
“It’s new to Jackie. She’s only had it a year and she had to finance it for three. And in case you forgot, we have a whole house full of dogs and cats that cost more to feed than we do, and Jackie brings home less than I do.”
“You need to get rid of those animals.”
“Tell me about it. I’m going to talk with Jackie this weekend and see how she feels about us tightening our belt for a couple of years, maybe taking on a part-time job. It would help a lot if we could get rid of some of the zoo.”
“Look, Abigail…you know I like Jackie. But if you guys are going to stay together, you’re going to have to put your foot down about those dogs and cats or you two aren’t ever going to have anything but a houseful of cats and dogs. That’s no way to live.”
“I know, I know, I know. I just need to talk to her about it is all.” Abigail stood up and reached for her coat. “We had a good time with AJ. You call me anytime you want to do something and I’ll pick him up. And if I can’t, Jackie will.”
“Thanks, kiddo. Good luck talking with Jackie.”
***
Jackie worked at the shelter alone on Saturdays, tending animals, cleaning cages, and greeting those who came in looking for a new pet. All in all, it had been a pretty good day, though the icy rain had cut the usual number of visitors in half. Two small dogs, a rat terrier and a poodle mix were spoken for, along with six of the seven new kittens.
But it hadn’t been a good day for Danny Boy. Mindful of his impending deadline, Jackie had pushed him out there to all four of the families that had come by hoping to adopt a new dog. Sure, he was a beautiful animal, everyone had agreed. But he was too large for an apartment, too old for the kids who were looking for a puppy, and too longhaired for the woman with the nice house.
In the pit of her stomach, Jackie was starting to dread what she knew was going to be a tough sell at home. It was her own fault—she would admit that. She hadn’t followed through as promised with finding homes for Sweet Pea, the beagles, or any of the cats. It wasn’t that she hadn’t looked, or even that she wanted to keep the animals for herself. It was that she had gotten to know each one, and now she was determined to find not just a home, but the perfect home. And she had already begun to feel felt that way about Danny Boy.
***
Abigail heaved a sigh of relief the moment she spotted Jackie’s truck pulling into the front yard so she wouldn’t block the gas truck in the driveway. They met at the kitchen door.
“Boy, am I glad to see you. I didn’t have enough to pay for this.”
“What’s up? What’s the gas company doing here?”
“I tried to call you at the shelter, but you’d left already. We’re empty. The house started getting cold this afternoon and I played around with the thermostat. Then I went to heat up some water and the stove wouldn’t light.”
“How can we be empty already? We just filled up a couple of months ago.”
“That’s what I thought too, but they said it was October the last time they were out here. I guess we just lost track.”
“How much are we getting?
“A full tank.”
“But it’s almost March. It won’t be cold that much longer,” Jackie argued.
“I know. But they won’t give us a partial tank. It’s all or nothing.” She grabbed her checkbook and studied the ledger. “He said it would be about three hundred dollars. Can you cover half?”
Jackie sighed. “I guess. But there goes your new battery.”
“It’s more than just my battery. It’s grocery money for the next two weeks,” Abigail snarled, not bothering to hiding her frustration.
“It’s okay, babe. I happen to like peanut butter.”
Abigail pulled away from Jackie’s outstretched arm. She was in no mood to be comforted. “I get so tired of this. Every time we take one step forward, we get knocked two steps back. We never have anything left over.”
“We’re getting there. We’ve got…what…eight thousand in the bank.”
“Yeah, exactly what we had six months ago, because neither of us has had an extra nickel to add to it since then.” She bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that Jackie had contributed nothing beyond the seven thousand from when her mother died. She had no savings plan at all.
“We’ll get by, Abigail. We always do.” Jackie fished her checkbook from the kitchen drawer. “Besides, once we win the Powerball, we’ll have an extra ten million dollars.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re throwing your money away on lotto tickets.”
“Just one. I got it last night when I stopped for the milk.”
“Jackie! We’re never going to get out of this hole if you keep flushing money down the toilet. That lottery’s a scam. It’s like a tax on poor people.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because the only people that ever play are the ones who
can’t afford it. They tell you it’s for education, but you don’t see any millionaires contributing their share.”
“Makes sense to me. They don’t need the money as much as poor people,” Jackie answered. “The way I look at it, somebody has to win. It might as well be us.”
“Yeah, that’s what the other twenty million people say too.”
“Well, you never know.” Jackie looked over Abigail’s shoulder into the backyard. “Where are the dogs?”
“In the bedroom. I couldn’t deal with them right now with this guy here.”
Jackie strode down the hallway and opened the door, freeing the frenzied pack, which set off a cacophony of barking from one end of the small house to the other.
“Jackie! I said I didn’t want to deal with them. Couldn’t you just leave them in there?”
“I’ll let them out in the yard.”
“You can’t. He’s back there filling the tank.” Abigail could feel her anger rising, and the pressures of the moment were too much for her to hold it in check. “I used to think you didn’t listen when I told you something bothered me, but now it’s like you listen but you don’t even care what I think.”
“Of course I care. I just don’t see what the big deal is.”
“That’s the point, Jackie. You never do. As long as everything is just the way you—” Abigail suddenly noticed the gas man standing at the open back door.
“Excuse me,” he said meekly, clearly embarrassed at being witness to their argument. He held out a bill. “I topped it off. It comes to three-twelve.”
Abigail quickly scribbled her check. “One-fifty-six, Jackie.”
“I can do math,” she grumbled, picking up the pen as soon as Abigail put it down. She ripped out the check when she finished and stormed past the serviceman into the backyard with all the dogs in pursuit.
Abigail paid the man and showed him to the door. No sooner did he leave than Mango appeared from under the couch and began weaving through her legs. “You better watch out, furball. I’m on the warpath and I’m not taking any prisoners.”
She folded her arms and leaned over the sink to look out into the backyard, where Jackie was throwing a tennis ball for Wally to chase, a game the mutt could play endlessly. Even from this distance, Abigail could see the scowl on Jackie’s face, an obvious remnant of their quarrel. It wasn’t at all how she had hoped their weekend would go. They needed to be able to talk without arguing if they were going to make any real headway on solving their financial problems for the long haul, and she needed Jackie’s support in a big way if she was going to cut her work hours and go back to school full-time.
Luck of the Irish Page 3
