by Lisa Smartt
But Uncle Bart took on the role of unpaid security guard when young Jimmy Brennan drove up on his motorcycle and requested a kiss. Uncle Bart scowled and put his finger right on the P of Aeropostle which was plastered across Jimmy’s tiny chest. “Don’t make me call your Daddy, Jimmy. Now high-tail it on outta here.” That’s when Uncle Bart decided to miss the shower and just watch the door. His exact words were, “I know er’body in this town and I know who’s supposed to be in here and who ain’t supposed to. And Lord knows we can’t trust Jerry Conner to keep the peace seein’ as how he crashed his patrol car into the reindeer float in last year’s Christmas parade. Mt. Sinai Assembly of God could’a sued him too, coulda sued him good. Thank God they turned the other cheek.”
When most of the hub-bub had died down in the church parking lot, Ashley grabbed the jug of punch and one of the presents out of the trunk of the car. Doug carried the other two presents and the diaper bag while I held James’ hand and explained about the big party for Uncle Dusty and Aunt Clara. Doug and I didn’t take a present because we bought furniture instead. Two white twin beds and a dresser for the girls’ room and a nice black bunk bed and dresser for Will’s room. They were to be delivered on Tuesday.
Ashley had visited our home many times over the years and had always found a special kinship with Dusty and Clara. She wanted to buy something special for the shower, but didn’t want to be showy and ridiculous. I don’t like it when rich people are showy and ridiculous and neither does Ashley. It would be so disrespectful to the people of Sharon if Dusty and Clara opened up a $10,000 check from Ashley Harrison and then opened a case of Cheez-Its from Chester and Mrs. Ida a minute later.
So Ashley bought the three brightly-colored kid comforters from the Wal-Mart registry and wrapped them in bright purple paper and white bows for the shower. She would later discreetly hand Dusty and Clara an envelope from the bank where she’d started a college fund for each of the kids. I didn’t ask how much money she put in. It was none of my business.
By 2:45 men, women, and children were filing into the church basement even though the shower didn’t start until 3:00. I was glad we decided to invite men, women, and children. The social worker recommended we not bring Will, Mandy, and Molly as it could easily be overwhelming. We would shower Dusty and Clara this afternoon and then they would move all the cool stuff into their rooms and have it waiting there for move-in day next Saturday. The social worker had also explained that all of them would need to be in counseling for a very long time. Dusty and Clara were more than willing.
When the church secretary, Mrs. Elizabeth, heard that the kids love Cheez-Its and raisins, she spread the word. It caused a small town raisin shortage too. I know that for certain ‘cause Mrs. Ida said her oatmeal-raisin cookies were without raisins because of it. People in the community brought clothes, toys, and practical things like towels, rubber boots, and bottles of kid shampoo.
Mrs. Gaines was always in charge of shower decorating and it had been like that for as long as I could remember. She was at least 110 years old, give or take a few years, and she typically put out those little paper decorations from the Dollar General. You know, like a baby carriage where the handle is made of colored cardboard but the carriage itself is made out of thin pink fluffy paper that pulls out and makes a cheap and comforting accordion-like display. But this time Mrs. Gaines outdid herself. She covered all the tables with yellow paper and put Lego sets and My Little Pony dolls on the tables making the most impressive displays which would later serve as gifts for the children. Mrs. Louise decorated a huge lemon cake in lavender and pink. The almost illegible inscription read: “Dusty, Clara, Will, Mandy, and Molly…Family. Thank you, God.”
Soon every metal chair in the room was full and the conversations blended together to create a happy buzzing sound. The toddlers were running around making high-pitched noises that made some of the old people scrunch up their noses as though they smelled a skunk.
Brother Dan opened with a prayer of thanksgiving for the soon-to-be-received son and daughters. Dusty looked handsome in his dark jeans and white shirt. He expressed his appreciation with a mere “Thank you, everybody. Thank you so much.” Clara blushed with all the attention. Her beautiful red hair looked like she had just been to the beauty shop, which was impossible because Charlene had closed the shop today in order to be at her cousin’s wedding in Memphis.
Mrs. Gaines shouted, “Everyone, make a plate! Let’s let Dusty and Clara go first.”
Ashley stood near the water fountain and pretended she was listening to every detail of Chester’s story about how he played Joseph in the Christmas play at the one-room school outside Palmersville. And how everyone in Palmersville told him he was a natural and should be in the movies. But he chose to serve in the Korean War instead. Chester didn’t exactly choose to serve in the war but I’ve found it’s best not to correct old people when they tell stories.
Occasionally I’d watch Ashley scan the room. I knew she was looking for Dave. So was I. It wasn’t like him to be late. I also knew that’s why Ashley wore her new black jeans and a lavender sweater that made her brown eyes pop. She didn’t wear a scarf for reasons I don’t have time to go into right now. Oh, and she used hot rollers to make those big loose curls that men like but women think look too much like Farrah Fawcett hair. Yep. Ashley was definitely on the lookout. And she wasn’t looking to cast Chester for her next movie either.
When Dusty and Clara started opening gifts, it was 3:40, and I sent Dave a text. “Where are you?”
“Collin just woke up. Tell McConnells sorry I had to miss.”
“We should be home by 5:30. Come to supper, just sandwiches. Ashley’s here.”
“Both of us are tired. Maybe another time.”
Tired? No. Dave wasn’t tired. And Collin just got up from a nap. Mrs. Elizabeth stood near the cake and made a short touching speech about the importance of parenting. Brother Dan presented three Children’s Bibles. Mrs. Gaines presented the Lego sets and ponies as though she had endowed a hospital with a new cardio wing. When everyone started cleaning up, Chester and Mrs. Ida took home the leftover spinach dip and the cookies and the sausage balls and some of the cake.
I cornered Doug and showed him the texts. “So what is this?”
“Maybe he really is just tired.”
“Well, maybe so. But Ashley has to go home on Monday and time is a’wastin’.”
We gathered our things and headed for the car. The short drive home was quiet except when Ashley sang Itsy Bitsy Spider to James. Someday James would realize that a woman who was preparing to star in an Alistair McCutcheon film was the same woman who so cheerfully sang to him in the backseat of the car. She even did the little hand motions. But I knew she was disappointed. Other than a few fan pictures, her hot roller hair had been completely wasted. Or maybe I was the disappointed one.
We had a light supper and put James to bed at 8:30 even though he cried saying, “Ashwee, do dat spider.” Ashley had done the spider song for James at least fifteen times. Sixteen times would have put me in long-term therapy. The three of us drank coffee and ate small pieces of mashed shower cake. But oh, how I hate it when there’s an elephant in the room. I always feel compelled to go in for the kill. “Okay, guys. I think we should call Dave.”
Doug put his arm around me. “And why would we do that?”
“Well, because this is just weird. That’s why.”
Ashley took a drink of coffee and pulled a big UTM blanket around her shoulders. “Just throw in the towel. Clearly, he’s not interested.”
“Throw in the towel? Are you kidding? What’s up with you two? Put away the white flag and let’s show a little fight, yes?”
Ashley stood and gathered her coffee cup and plate. “My fight’s about gone. I know it’s early but I’m hitting the hay. Last night’s flight is catching up with me. Don’t worry. I’ll be up bright and early in the morning, but as Daddy always said, ‘I’m ready to give this day back.’”
“Oh yeah, no problem. I’m gonna take a shower and I need to return some e-mails. It’ll be 10:00 before I actually get to sleep anyway.”
When Ashley closed the guest room door, I had my speech ready. “I love you, Sweetheart. I do. But I’m worried. If we could just drive by and check to make sure they’re okay. Well, that would make me feel better.”
Doug had already put on his camo Crocs and was grabbing our jackets. “I know. And the more I think about it, I feel the same way. It seems kind of odd that he didn’t want to come to the shower or even come over for supper.”
“Right. We’ll just drive by and if it looks like the lights are off and they’re asleep, well, that’ll be a sign to let sleeping dogs lie, or let sleepy dads rest.”
The house lights were all off but the dim porch light was on and we could both see Dave’s shadow sitting in the lawn chair by the door. Doug pulled in the drive and said, “Let’s get out a minute.”
I had on pink flannel pajamas under my jacket, but I pretended I had on the appropriate clothing for a proper porch visit. I also pretended it was a balmy Saturday afternoon and we were just dropping by for a lemonade. “Hey, Dave! Just thought we’d come sit on the porch a minute.”
Dave spoke but it didn’t sound like his voice, “Well yeah, come on up.”
As we approached the porch, Doug held my hand tighter and whispered, “Let me handle this.” I could smell Jim Beam from the sidewalk. Dave was wearing a faded green t-shirt and gray sweat pants. He held up the bottle. “Ready for a drink, Doug? ‘Cause I was. I was ready for a big drink. I don’t have a glass to give ya but you can do like me and just turn it up.” He turned the bottle up for a drink but some of it spilled out the corner of his mouth and onto his shirt. I sat down in the lawn chair next to him and Doug sat on the gray concrete step in front of him.
Doug replied in a calming tone. “No. I’m fine, Dave. I’m good.”
“Well, I’m not fine. I’m drunk.” His voice got a little louder and his words slurred. “Did you hear me? I said I’m drunk.”
“I did hear ya. And yes, I agree you’re pretty drunk.”
He held up the bottle again. “This’ll help me sleep, y’know?” He put the bottle on the rusty white table and grabbed his head with both hands like he already had a headache. Then he stared at Doug and said through tears, “If you killed your wife, you think you’d need help sleeping, Doug? Huh? I’ll tell ya. I’ll tell ya the answer. It’s yes. Any man who kills his wife is gonna have a lot of trouble sleepin’. But not me.” He held up the bottle again. “Cause I got some sleepin’ medicine right here.” More tears were flowing down his unshaven face and his eyes were drooping. He looked like the picture on an anti-drug campaign poster.
I remained silent as I was confident of Doug’s ability to handle the situation. He stood up and spoke calmly as though he were talking about a golf game or plans to see a movie. “Yeah. Sleep actually sounds like a good idea right now, brother. Why don’t we get you inside and let’s get on that sleep project.”
“Project?” He looked up at Doug with a distorted smile. “Yeah. I’m your project, Doug. You and Carlie got a project with me ‘cause I’m drunk and I kill people.”
“Yes, you are drunk. But no, you don’t kill people. Here. I’m gonna help you up.”
“You should help me up ‘cause I can’t walk ‘cause I killed someone.” His voice grew louder. “Say it, Doug! Everybody here knows it! I killed my wife! I’m a killer!” His voice grew soft and his crying more powerful. “I killed Shannon. But I don’t wanna kill you. I don’t…and I don’t wanna kill my boy.” Dave could hardly walk.
Doug handed me the cap to the whisky bottle while he helped his friend find the door. He slowly escorted him to his bedroom. I went in Collin’s room and while the room smelled like dirty diapers, Collin was clean and sleeping well.
After I washed up the dishes in the sink, Doug came out of the bedroom but he didn’t close the door. He walked up behind me, put his arms around my waist and said quietly, “He’ll be fine. He’ll sleep it off. But I better stay here and sleep on the couch. If Collin needs something or if Dave gets sick, well, I’ll need to be here. I’ll call you in the morning.”
I hugged him and whispered in his ear. “You’re a good friend, Honey. A real good friend.”
Doug straightened a stack of mail and put the can opener in a drawer. “It’s not hard. He’s like a brother, y’know?” His voice cracked as he emptied a bowl of rotten apples into the trash can. “When I was in there praying for him, he was crying so hard and it was just so…ugly, well, it reminded me of the times he’s been there for me doing that very same thing. He and Shannon met me in some dark places. Some bad places. After my parents died.” He managed a smile. “Oh, and then I was in love with this good-lookin’ famous woman but was too chicken to pursue her. And Dave and Shannon, well, they pushed me. And they were right.” He pushed the kitchen chairs under the table and straightened the salt and pepper shakers.
“I happen to know for sure that the big famous woman had the hots for you, Doug Jameson. You were smokin’ hot in her book. Still are.”
He poured a glass of water and smiled as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “It goes both ways.”
I asked, “How long do you think he’s been drinkin’? I mean, is this a ‘one bad night’ deal? Or has he been doing this every night?”
“I have no idea. He seems fine when he comes to work every morning. Maybe it’s just the weekends. Or maybe it was just tonight. I don’t really know. And I’m not gonna ask, not this time. I’ll give him some time.”
“I love you. I better get back to the house. Call if you need anything.”
He put his arms around my waist and kissed my neck gently. “Thanks for wanting to come check on him tonight. This must have been one of those women’s intuition things.”
“That. Or I’m just a terribly nosy neighbor. Either way, it worked.”
When I pulled into the driveway of our farm house, I sat there for a few minutes listening to Conway Twitty and wondering why Doug had the radio on Classic Country. I dreaded going in. Surely Ashley would ask what happened to Doug. And what was I supposed to say? And how was I supposed to say it? A familiar squeaking sound announced my presence as I walked into the kitchen. Ashley came walking out of the guest room wearing navy blue sweat pants and a gray hoodie that read “Bama” in huge crimson letters. Her hair was wet and she was applying lotion to her face.
“Where’s Doug?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
She laughed as she moved toward the bar stool. “You’ve only been gone an hour. It can’t be too long a story.”
“He’s spending the night at Dave’s house.”
She looked like someone had just told her the world was flat. “Dave’s house? That’s where you guys went? No offense, but aren’t you in your pajamas?”
“Yeah.”
“And then you’re saying Doug and Dave, well, they just decided to have a sleepover?” She laughed, “And people claim Hollywood is weird.”
“There was a little bit of an incident and Doug needs to stay over. That’s all.”
“What kind of incident?”
I knew she’d ask. I’d have done the same thing. I started loading the dishwasher and spoke as though I were talking about the weather, “Dave was pretty drunk when we got there. Sitting on the front porch. Doug needed to stay over for Collin’s sake, and well, for Dave’s sake too. It’s gonna be fine.”
Ashley looked exactly the way my baby brother looked when Daddy told him our puppy had gotten run over by the ice cream truck. There was a moment of silence before she spoke. “I didn’t know he was much of a drinker. I’ve never seen him drink much. I mean, maybe one glass of ch
ampagne at the Oscar party, but no, I guess I didn’t know about…and with Collin there, Gosh, that’s…”
“Thankfully, Collin was sound asleep. Dave’s been having trouble sleeping and he’s…anyway, it’ll all be fine.”
“He’s what?”
I turned to face Ashley. “He’s feeling guilty. About the wreck, about Shannon. We all know it was just an accident but when he gets sad and lonely, well, he goes to a bad place with a lot of ugly blaming and it’s bad. We’re not defending what he did tonight. There’s no defense for it. We’re just trying to help him. We love him, Ashley.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Ashley looked troubled, disappointed. “I need to hit the hay. I’ll see you in the morning.” She reached out for a hug and then moved toward the guest room. As I walked up the stairs, she turned and called out, “Carlie?”
“Yes.”
She looked straight at me. “I need you to know I can’t do this, the drunk thing. I can’t. My grandfather was an alcoholic. My brother’s in rehab right now. I just can’t go there. So you and your matchmaking thing? Well…you need to count me out on this one, ‘kay?”
“Yeah, I know. G’night.”
Chapter 13 CARLIE: Apple Jacks and Second Chances
Doug and Dave were sitting at the kitchen table eating Apple Jacks and drinking coffee when I walked in the door carrying Doug’s clothes on a hanger. I had determined to be upbeat and cheery without being loud. That’s no easy task for me. “Good mornin’ boys.”
Doug met me halfway with a hug and kiss. “Thanks for bringing the clothes, Honey. I guess Ashley’s with James.”
“Actually, no. I figured that kid is two years old and he needs to start developing some independence and a plan for his life. So I left him to fix his own oatmeal and get himself together for church. Gosh, I hope he puts in a load of laundry and a roast in the crock pot.” I smiled and patted Doug on the butt. “Yes, he’s with Ashley.”
