Whiskey Sunrise

by Missouri Vaun

  “I don’t want you hanging around Lovey. I know what you’re up to, Royal Duval, and I’m here to tell you that Lovey is my intended and I don’t want you anywhere near her!” Joe jabbed his index finger in the direction of her face as he spoke.

  Well, clearly Joe wasn’t up on current events and didn’t know that Lovey had already given Royal the heave-ho. For some reason, Joe still believed that Royal held some threat to his relationship with Lovey. That was an interesting bit of news, but likely false.

  Royal was angry on so many levels she didn’t know which to tap into first. That Joe had the nerve to say anything to her about Lovey when he’d clearly already won that fight, made her angry. But equally galling was the fact that he thought he could tell her who she could and couldn’t spend time with in the first place. What an arrogant asshole. She would choose her own friends, by God.

  “Joe Dawson, you don’t tell me how to spend my time or who to spend it with. I’ll socialize with who I damn well please.”

  “Royal, don’t test me. I’m serious. You stay away from Lovey.”

  Royal shoved him with both hands. “Make me.”

  “Don’t make me hit you, Royal, ’cause I will.”

  Even in the low light from the gas lamp overhead, Royal could tell Joe’s face was flushed. He was angry too and trying to hold back. So of course she shoved him again. Part of her wanted him to fight. At least then she’d have some physical outlet for the rage and hurt she was feeling. And he was the perfect target because all of it was his fault.

  Joe shoved her backward. She stumbled but then ran toward him, jumping on him and causing him to fall backward. She punched him once, twice in the jaw before he grabbed her by the shirt and threw her off.

  He was so much bigger and stronger than she was. He got to his feet and had Royal in a headlock trying to spin her around while she attempted to land a few blows to his ribs. They were both winded and stirring up dust. And then something else happened.

  Two other fellows had stepped into the alley, and Royal just caught a glimpse of them headed her way with a wooden club when she saw Ned intervene.

  “Stop! Joe, let me go!” She was trying to break free before the two men descended on Ned, but Joe was too drunk and his reflexes were slow. Plus, his back was turned toward Ned so he couldn’t see what was happening.

  Royal saw the one man swing and hit Ned in the side of the head, sending him backward so that he landed against the edge of the raised porch of the Mill.

  Royal pushed furiously against Joe just as the man raised the club to swing at Joe. Joe still had one arm around Royal but released her as he blocked the blow with his other arm, then turned and landed a solid left hook under the man’s chin, sending him to the ground.

  Royal pushed past the second fellow to where Ned lay motionless on the ground.

  “Ned! Ned!” She dropped to her knees beside him.

  His eyes were open, but he was deathly still. She tentatively touched the back of his head, and when she pulled her hand away it was covered with blood. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to look back at Joe. He was holding the wooden rod in one hand and the man by the front of his shirt in the other.

  All at once, Royal’s foggy brain called forth the memory of these men. They were two of the men who tried to assault Grace that night. They’d obviously come back to settle the score with Royal and instead Ned had gotten in their way.

  “Royal? Is Ned—?” Joe held the squirming man firmly as he spoke.

  Royal shook her head as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

  The second man who’d been standing nearby finally spoke.

  “We didn’t mean no harm to the boy. It were an accident. We didn’t mean no harm.” He lingered for a moment and then took off running, leaving his friend behind.

  “Help! Help! We need a doctor out here!” Joe was yelling as he pinned the other man against the wall. He was the one who had swung at Ned, and Joe held on to him.

  Royal pressed Ned’s limp hand against her cheek. This was all her fault. All her stupid, stubborn, prideful fault.

  “Oh, Ned, don’t do this. This can’t be happening.” She laid her ear on his heart, but she heard nothing.

  A couple of people from inside the tavern now appeared at the entrance to the alley as a result of Joe’s shouted requests for help. One of them knelt next to Ned and felt for a pulse. The other went to assist Joe with the struggling culprit. Then more people came. Gentle hands pulled Royal away from Ned’s body as several men lifted him into the back of a car.

  “They’re gonna take him to Doc’s place, Royal.” June pulled Royal along with an arm around her shoulders. “Come inside, honey. There’s nothing you can do for Ned now.”

  Royal looked back as Ned’s lifeless body was carried to a waiting car and laid across the backseat. His head bobbed limply to one side, and someone gently turned it so the car door would shut. June half carried her back inside as the car carrying Ned pulled away.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lovey saw the postman’s carriage pause near the end of their drive before proceeding. Maybe she’d gotten a letter from Dottie. She’d been missing her friend and longed to catch up with her. Things were going well for Dottie, and Lovey wouldn’t mind basking in the glow of her good fortune for a little while. Even from a distance.

  When she reached the post, she saw that there was a letter addressed to her with no return address. The handwriting looked somewhat familiar, and the moment she opened the envelope she knew it was from Royal. She unfolded the ivory paper and turned it over in her hand. There was no note, despite the fact that the name on the envelope had been hers. A single poem had been typed, centered on the page:

  Desire’s flame burns my skin

  I long for the relief

  Only your lips can bring

  My body holds a space for you.

  Released

  Through your window

  Into darkness and stiff shrubs

  Crossing the dew-laden lawn in sock feet.

  Now, settled in my car

  I try to imagine my future without you.

  I can’t.

  I won’t.

  What resides in my chest is real

  Set against the relentless unreal.

  Defying convention.

  Only an unfeeling world refuses

  To see what we have seen.

  Brilliant. Iridescent. Eternal.

  Love.

  Her hand began to shake so that she could no longer make out the words. Lovey covered her mouth with her other hand as she began to sob silently. Why would Royal send such a poem except to torment her? Did Royal not realize the impact sentiments such as this would have on her?

  She folded the letter and shoved it in her pocket.

  For a moment, she struggled with what to do. Tightness in her chest made it hard for her to catch her breath. She thought if she walked back into the house she might suffocate.

  Lovey began to walk down the road, taking deep breaths, willing the sobs to subside. She was almost to the curve where she’d met Royal that first night before she realized how far she’d gotten. The memory of that night started the sobs again.

  She stepped off the road and stumbled down to the edge of the pond where Royal had tended to her bee stings on a blanket spread on the grass. She dropped to the ground, lay on her side, pulled her knees up to her chest, and cried. She had not given herself permission to fully grieve, but now that she’d gone over the edge, she was lost in the sea of it. Her sorrow washed over her again and again like waves on a shoreline.

  She wasn’t sure how long she lay in the grass. At one point she rolled onto her back and watched the sun’s rays pass through the broad poplar leaves swaying in the breeze above her.

  Eventually, her emotions settled enough that she thought she could face returning to the house. She saw her father enter the house ahead of her and was struck by how much she’d agreed to settle for this life. Even though this was not the li
fe she’d envisioned for herself. And even as she realized this, she knew that only she could change the course her life had taken.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Lovey was still in terrible spirits two days later when Joe stopped by to sit with her on the porch. He seemed oddly quiet. It was just as well because she had decided to break things off with Joe. She was miserable, and she guessed that she must be making Joe miserable, although he hadn’t said as much.

  She might as well just be alone. If she couldn’t have what she wanted, the person she truly desired, then she would rather have no one. She would rather be alone.

  She was getting ready to say something to Joe when he spoke first.

  “Something terrible has happened, Lovey.” He held his hat in his hand as he sat beside her on the rocker.

  A small table between them held a pitcher of lemonade that she’d carried out just after he arrived. She set her glass there and looked at Joe. She really looked at him. He was obviously burdened with something, and she’d been too distracted with her own melancholy to notice.

  “What is it, Joe?”

  “Two nights ago, at the Mill…there was a terrible accident.”

  Lovey’s already unsettled stomach churned. Oh God, please don’t say something happened to Royal. She waited for him to continue as her mind raced ahead to think the worst.

  “Royal and I got into a fight and—”

  “You hurt Royal?” The pitch of Lovey’s voice went up an octave.

  “No, but there were two other men, and Royal and I were wrestling and we didn’t see them coming. But Ned did and he stepped in front of them.”

  “Joe, what happened?” Lovey’s heart pounded in her chest and in her ears like thunder.

  “Ned was killed. One of the fellas had a wooden club. He was about to swing at us, but Ned caught him first. The blow knocked him back, and when he fell he hit the edge of the raised porch. The fall broke his neck.”

  Lovey covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. Royal must be crushed.

  “I guess these fellas had tried to hurt Grace Watkins before and Royal had stopped them so two of them had come back to get even with her, only they hadn’t counted on Ned or me.”

  “Oh my God. This is terrible.” In her shock, Lovey continued speaking without remembering to filter what she was saying. “I was with Royal that night. The night she stopped those men from hurting Grace.”

  As soon as she spoke, she realized she’d revealed more to Joe than she’d intended. She looked over at him and couldn’t quite discern his reaction. He didn’t seem surprised.

  “Lovey, I know something happened between you and Royal.”

  “How—”

  “Laurel Lee told me. She knew the day that Royal came to the church lunch.”

  Lovey didn’t know what to say. She studied her hands folded in her lap. She waited for Joe to become angry. She waited for the words of recrimination to come, but they never came. Instead of reproach, his words only carried kindness.

  “If I hadn’t called Royal out to tell her to stay away from you, then Ned might still be alive. I shouldn’t have tried to control things. I should have listened to my own heart.”

  Lovey felt tears gathering around her lashes. “And what does your heart tell you, Joe?”

  “It tells me that you’re in love with someone else and that I need to let you go.” A tear slowly trailed down his unshaven cheek, and Lovey brushed it away with her fingers.

  “Oh, Joe.” She took his hand in hers, feeling truly connected to him for maybe the first time. “I never meant to lead you on or be dishonest. I just…”

  “I know, Lovey. The world ain’t always fair. But you can’t help who you love. And right now, Royal needs you.” He brushed at another tear as it fell. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t say this to you and try to make things right.” He stood abruptly. Lovey stood also and pulled him into a hug.

  “Where is she?”

  “The funeral was gonna be this afternoon. I’m guessing she’s at the cemetery up at the Hill Church.” Joe stepped off the porch and pulled on his hat. It had started to rain. “I can take you there in the buggy if you want.”

  Lovey nodded and without hesitation followed Joe to his carriage and climbed aboard.

  ❖

  The mourners had come and gone. Standing in the rain under a darkened sky in their black clothing, her uncle had stared her down with his silent rage. She knew he’d wished she was in the pine box, under the dark earth instead of Ned.

  Her mother had been the last to leave Royal’s side. She’d taken Teddy home to meet others at the house who were bringing food and anything else they could that might provide some comfort, but there was no comfort.

  The preacher had said the things he knew he should say. The things people expected to hear on a day such as this. That mankind in our smallness cannot know the mind of God in workings such as these. That we must all trust in the Lord’s divine plan for our lives even when things seem terrible or unfair.

  How could Ned’s death be God’s will?

  This was nothing more than accidental chaos inflicted on the innocent. With Royal lay all the blame. She should never have started a fight with Joe. She should have listened to Ned. She should have let Lovey go and moved on. She’d pulled everyone down with her grief, and Ned had paid the ultimate price.

  Royal stood rock still in her black suit at the gravesite, letting the rain flood her senses. The previously sun-warmed, freshly turned earthen mound beneath which her cousin Ned took his final rest was steaming in the cool, summer shower. She studied the dark earth, watching small rivulets develop and run along the raised mound. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She silently recited a poem she’d written. Words she’d been carrying since Ned’s fateful fall.

  The end of all things comes swiftly

  Without warning

  Without empathy

  Cold, black, nothingness arrives complete.

  Others left to feel the absence

  That I will not perceive

  I am no more

  All that might have been, abandoned.

  Everlasting nothing

  Moonless midnight

  Selfless at last

  All my worries forgotten, forevermore.

  She didn’t want to leave Ned alone. She was the last witness to remain at the site of his eternal sleep and found herself unable to walk away.

  ❖

  Lovey hugged Joe and thanked him before she stepped out of the buggy.

  “Do you want me to wait?”

  “No, you’ve done enough. Thank you, Joe.”

  He touched his hat and snapped the reins, leaving her standing in the rain to look for Royal. The funeral must be over. Only Royal’s car remained, a car with a dented front fender and broken headlight, and a single bullet hole. Royal had to be here somewhere.

  After searching for a few moments, she found Royal lingering by the fresh grave, rain soaked and forlorn. Lovey stepped close, but Royal didn’t seem to notice her.

  Grace and Sam stood twenty feet away or so, under a black umbrella. Silent sentinels bearing witness to Royal’s grief from a respectful distance.

  Lovey reached out and touched Royal’s face with her fingers and only then did Royal turn and notice her presence. Her eyes were dark and clouded with grief. Her long lashes laden with raindrops.

  “Come with me, baby,” Lovey whispered to her, caressing her cheek softly. She took Royal’s arm, and as they turned toward the car, she nodded to Grace and Sam as if to say, I’ll take care of her.

  Lovey opened the door of the black Ford and waited until Royal was settled before she circled the front of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. The keys were still in the ignition. She cranked the car and eased the heavy auto off the soggy grass back onto the muddy unpaved road.

  Royal slumped against the window. Raindrops streamed down the glass past her reflection. If she was surprised to see Lovey, it did not registe
r on her face. They rode in silence as Lovey drove them back into town. After parking out of sight behind the tavern, she took Royal’s hand and they solemnly climbed the stairs to Royal’s place hand in hand.

  Once behind the locked door, Lovey stepped close to Royal. She slipped her hands inside Royal’s dark, sopping wet suit coat and eased it off her shoulders, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. Then she took a towel off the stand near the basin and began to gently dry Royal’s hair. Royal seemed lost. She didn’t speak, and she made no move to assist Lovey with her task. Her face was wet with rain or tears or both. Lovey’s damp dress clung to her body, causing her to shiver. But she needed to tend to Royal first.

  Lovey kissed her cheek and whispered, “Let’s get you out of these drenched things.”

  As Lovey began to unbutton the sagging starched white shirt, Royal covered her eyes with the palms of her hands and sobbed quietly. There was no sound, only the shaking of her shoulders. Lovey pulled Royal’s hands away from her face, dabbing at the tears with the towel, and then shifted Royal’s arms so that she could remove the wet shirt. There was a damp undershirt to pull over Royal’s head before she was bare chested in front of Lovey.

  She saw that Royal had bruises on her forehead and around one eye. She wondered if that was from hitting the tree with her car or from the fight with Joe. She traced a fingertip around the outside edge of the bruises.

  Lovey softly stroked Royal’s arms. She pulled Royal close and kissed her along her jawline and then down her neck. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against Royal’s neck.

  “What are you doing here?” Royal’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

  “I knew you needed me. Oh, Royal, I’m so sorry about Ned. I’m so sorry about everything.”

  Righteous anger had allowed Royal to create distance between them, but underneath her rage lurked a heavy unrequited want, a need to be known, a need to be held by Lovey. Royal knew a touch would be all it would take. One brush of Lovey’s fingertips in just the right spot and Royal knew she would burst into flame for her. She wanted to be wholly consumed, to bury herself in the depths of her. She stood at the edge of darkest grief. Did Lovey sense her longings?