A Box Full of Trouble

by Carolyn Haines

  The temperature hung in the low eighties, the best he could ask for in late June. He almost felt guilty to be enjoying the ride and the beautiful weather. He couldn't wait to bring Erin out on the bike. When all this stuff was over, he imagined them maybe riding down to Kentucky Lake for the weekend, or to horse park near Lexington. Later, he could ride over to see her at U.K. What if he could get in there himself? It was a dream that had begun to feel more possible.

  He reached the sagging, open farm gates of the jamboree within the half hour. A woman and two men, all in black leathers, sat around a bright white folding table just inside. Noah idled his bike without entering and texted his father that he'd arrived. The road leading into the jamboree had once been paved but was now broken up and mostly uneven gravel, hell for motorcycles. But one of the men, a bearded guy in a leather vest without a shirt beneath it, got up and waved him in, smiling. Noah thought about refusing, but decided it wasn't a good idea.

  "How can we help you?" the woman asked after Noah parked and walked over to the table. Though she was wearing leathers, her lips were bright pink and her chin-length hair was blonde with pink stripes in it. Her face was round, and her bosom pressed upwards out of her bright pink shirt. Except for the leathers, she looked like a kindergarten teacher. "Do you have a ticket?"

  Noah didn't see event signs or any suggestion that there was any kind of festival going on. The men watched him silently.

  "You know, I'm just dropping something off for my dad. Jeb? Daly?"

  His father's name didn't seem to ring any bells. At that moment Noah's phone vibrated. His father was asking him to ride down and meet him. Noah said as much to the people at the table, and one of them nodded and stepped away to talk on a radio. Within two minutes, Noah was on his bike making his careful way down the hill.

  The jamboree had definitely seen better days. He rolled past a weedy parking area that was populated with several dozen pickup trucks and vans. Quite a lot of the vehicles were new and shone in the summer sunlight, but the rest were dusty and covered with decals and Confederate battle flags and skulls. He wasn't stupid. He was getting a bad feeling about the festival, or whatever it was.

  As he turned on a wide curve, he heard distant metal music. The festival area spread out below him contained dozens of more trucks and at least a hundred motorcycles. A crowd of people was gathered in front a huge stage where the band was playing, and music echoed through the bowl-like hollow. An enormous banner with the words UNITY BROTHERS printed on it fluttered above the stage. At one end of the banner was a white fist outlined in black, and at the other a swastika.

  Oh, shit.

  Of course he'd heard rumors about white supremacists, but he'd imagined that they were all from somewhere else. In fact, many of the license plates he'd passed were from out of state. This wasn't the Kentucky he knew, and it made him sick. Then he saw his father being driven toward him in a golf cart by a homely young blonde with a badly receding chin. She looked at Noah shyly, but he found it impossible to smile back at her. He raised one hand in a half-wave.

  "You made it, son! Come on down and have a beer with the old man." His father patted the girl on the knee and swung out of the golf cart. The girl pulled forward and circled to go back down the hill. A sign reading STAFF hung from the back of the cart.

  Noah parked the bike. "What the hell is this place? What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, jaw clenching.

  His father put an arm around him and squeezed, hard, a broad, fake smile on his face. "You and me got a lot of catching up to do!" Pulling Noah closer, he said, "Got the package? It took you long enough. People are waiting, and they aren't patient."

  Noah shrugged off his father's arm and started taking off the backpack.

  "Not here, you moron." His father jerked a thumb at a copse with an unlit fire pit. Logs and long, forked sticks had been arranged around it. Were they setting up for s’mores later in the evening? Noah wanted to laugh, imagining skinheads like the Attwell brothers roasting marshmallows, but he kept his mouth shut.

  In the copse, he squatted with his open bag in front of him, digging out the package. Before he handed it to his father, he carefully peeled off the delivery label—which he was certain was as fake as the delivery guy had been—and stuffed it in his pocket. "Why'd you get me involved in this? I'm not going to jail because of you and your asshole friends. You know probably half the guys here are Feds, don't you?" He shoved the package at his father.

  His father was on him like a striking snake, grabbing Noah by the collar of his T-shirt. But Noah was unbalanced and fell backwards, his father landing on top of him. "You don't sass me like that, son. Ever. You live in my house and eat my food and sleep in the bed I got you when you were too little to wipe your own backside. You do what I say, hear me?"

  His face was so close Noah could smell the cigarettes and beer and lunchmeat on his breath and was sickened. He could also feel the hard pressure of the gun in his father's waistband. There was a greater cruelty in his father's eyes than he'd ever seen before. Jeb Daly was desperate, and Noah knew it.

  Noah maneuvered his father off with a move he'd learned in high school wrestling, and now he was looking down into his father's startled face. "Don't ever grab me like that again. You're the one who doesn't belong in our house, and I'll leave only if I think Mom is safe around you. And that time hasn't come yet. I don't know if it ever will. Leave me alone, and leave her alone, or I'll kill you." He was breathing hard, expecting his father to resist. But now he saw a brief flash of fear before it was quickly replaced with mocking bravado.

  "Well, looks like the little boy's balls dropped after all. Get off me, faggot."

  Noah got up quickly and grabbed his backpack. Slinging it over one shoulder, he didn't look back at his father but strode out of the copse.

  "I know where you live, you little prick!" his father called after him. Then he began to laugh, and the sound of that laughter followed him, haunted him, even after he started his motorcycle.

  The people at the gate were busy with a line of incoming cars and paid no attention to Noah leaving. But Noah had plenty of time to check out the cars and, in one truck, he saw a man he recognized—Earl, from the service desk. He didn't think about it until much later, but was fairly certain that Earl wasn't there to buy drugs.

  * * *

  Noah’s mother, Annette, as she'd asked Erin to call her, handed Erin a glass of lemonade. "I think there's only one kind of lemonade, and that's fresh-squeezed. You know when you go to a fair or festival, and you see those vendors saying their lemonade is fresh?" Erin nodded. "Well, they put almost half a cup of sugar in the water and just a tiny bit of lemon. Which you wouldn't think because sugar isn't that cheap and lemons aren't that expensive when they're in season. You can hardly drink it, it’s so sweet."

  Erin took a drink from the glass she'd been handed, praying the lemonade wouldn't make her tongue curl. To her relief, it wasn't too tart at all, but simply tangy with a hint of sweetness. "It's delicious. Thank you."

  Annette sat on the other cushioned porch chair. The chairs’ paisley green cushions looked stiff and new against the well-used, gray chair frames, but Annette herself was relaxed. Erin was grateful because she was nervous. It felt good to stay away from home for a while. In her shift at the shelter, she'd cleaned half the cat kennels, wearing a special vest in which snuggled a tiny, orphaned kitten that needed constant body warmth. Then she'd walked a couple of the dogs and took a greyhound out for a run. Shelby Rae was in the bedroom with the door closed when she stopped home to shower and change and feed Trouble, but she didn't bother to talk to her. Things had ended okay with her the night before, and there was no need to push it.

  Where was Noah?

  Annette looked at her watch as though she'd just read Erin's mind.

  "Noah said he'd be home right after work. Said he had a stop to make at the store, but it shouldn't be taking this long. I'm sorry. You seem to be stuck with me." Annette smiled.

>   Erin worried that she was making Annette uncomfortable. The two things they had in common were Noah, and the crime that had gotten her mother killed. Neither seemed perfect subjects for conversation.

  "Noah said you're manager at your store, now? How long have you worked there?" Erin occasionally stopped at the big store to get gas on her way out of town, but she'd never run into Annette because she always paid outside.

  "It took quite a while. Seven years. I like the regular hours and the benefits. So many different people—we've got our regulars, but since they put in the lot and pumps for the semis we see people from all over. You'd be surprised how many women drive trucks or work in pairs with their husbands." Annette paused. "You know, before that I worked at the salon here in town."

  "Really? I didn't know that." Erin was surprised.

  "I did nails and maintained stock and kept the books." She lowered her voice a bit. "Shelby Rae always used to come in back then. Very particular about her hair and nails. I did her nails, but she probably doesn't remember. I gather she goes out of town for her hair now, and to that new spa up the road to get her nails done."

  Erin suspected that Shelby Rae remembered exactly who Annette was but only pretended not to. She didn't remember them speaking at the party. "I don't have any idea where Shelby Rae goes. Probably somewhere they charge her a lot of money so she feels special."

  Annette laughed with some relief. "She's insecure, I think, living in that big house. Married to your dad. I remember she talked about feeling nervous in town, living alone."

  "Why was that?"

  "It was probably because she was used to having people around. After her aunt died, she could've gone back to Louisville, but she decided to stay, and just moved out of her uncle's house."

  Erin grimaced. "Uncle Travis. He gives me the creeps."

  "Unfortunately, sometimes we can't pick our family."

  Erin thought of Noah and his father. But Annette had chosen to marry Jeb Daly.

  "Did Shelby Rae date anybody around here back then? I never heard about anyone, and it would be weird I guess to ask her now. It's not really my business." Julie Berry had been certain Shelby Rae was having an affair, and sometimes old boyfriends could be new lovers.

  Annette furrowed her brow. She looked like Noah when she was thinking hard. "You'd imagine a pretty girl like Shelby Rae would cut a swath through the town, but she really was kind of quiet that way. Very self-possessed and proud. There was a teller at the bank, I think, and a teacher at the high school. Then there was one guy she talked about but it seemed to be more a—what do they call it now? Friends with benefits kind of thing. One of those it's complicated relationships like you used to see on Facebook. You don't really see that anymore. Facebook isn't as fun as it used to be."

  Erin struggled with the notion of Shelby Rae as self-possessed and proud. She'd spent so long thinking of Shelby Rae as a little trashy that she sometimes forgot she had been so kind and very normal after her mother died. She’d even been admiring of Shelby Rae's skill with make-up and girly things. Her mother had been pretty and tailored and had worn very little makeup. So different. "Do you remember if she ever talked about my dad? I mean, after my mom died, of course."

  Annette looked abashed. "Oh, of course after. She wasn't like that at all.”

  Erin twisted the cocktail napkin Annette had given her with her lemonade. "I guess I was so young, I didn't really know what to think."

  "You were just a little thing. I felt so bad for you. So responsible."

  This was a discussion Erin dreaded. She wasn't there to make anyone uncomfortable, so she turned the subject back to Shelby Rae. "The guy that was complicated about with Shelby Rae. Did their relationship go on any longer? I mean, like after she started dating my dad?"

  "I'm sorry, I don't remember the details very well. I do remember being surprised when I heard the guy she was dating told her he just wanted her to be happy, and that she deserved to have everything she wanted." Annette frowned. "She wasn't very nice about it, I'm afraid. At least that's what I heard. I really shouldn't repeat salon gossip. It was so long ago."

  Worried that she'd embarrassed Annette, Erin started to reassure her, but they heard the rumble of Noah's motorcycle coming down the street. Annette looked relieved. But Erin’s thoughts about Shelby Rae were confused. Had she been reading her wrong all along? And who was the guy who was so chill about Shelby Rae pursuing her father?

  * * *

  Noah greeted them, saying a surprisingly shy hello to Erin and kissing his mother on the cheek. He carefully removed a slender bouquet of purple irises from his backpack, and handed it, with a bag of asparagus, to his mother. "Oh, damn. I forgot the bread. I'm an idiot." He shook his head.

  "Don't be silly." Annette opened the storm door and took the asparagus and flowers inside. "I'll make some biscuits. Won't take fifteen minutes."

  "I hope you don't think biscuits with tuna noodle is too weird," Noah said. He looked tired to Erin, the corners of his mouth tight with stress.

  She smiled. "I love biscuits and tuna noodle. My mom used to make tuna noodle all the time, but Shelby Rae's a hopeless cook, and my dad could never quite get my mother's recipe right. I've made it, though. Even though Shelby Rae says it's white trash food." Realizing what she just said, she colored and was glad Annette had gone inside. "Seriously, I love it. If that makes me white trash to Shelby Rae, whatever." But Noah seemed more distracted than bothered.

  "Give me ten minutes, will you? I just need to get cleaned up real quick."

  Erin thought he looked fine in his white T-shirt and jeans, but she didn't say anything.

  "Will you keep my mom company in the kitchen?"

  She followed him inside. The air was fragrant with the casserole in the oven. Annette already had the ingredients for the biscuits in a bowl and was mixing them together.

  "I'm just doing drop biscuits. Why don't you grease that sheet for me, and take the casserole out and set it right on top of the stove?" Erin did everything Annette asked her to do. It was comforting to be around calm and efficient Annette. There was no obvious sign that Jeb Daly was living in the house at all.

  * * *

  Erin wasn’t sure if dinner was particularly delicious, or she was simply happy to be there with Noah. He seemed anxious that she should like the asparagus and was delighted that she ate the undressed, steamed stalks with her fingers. Asparagus wasn't her favorite vegetable, but she ate everything on her plate, including two biscuits dripping with butter.

  After Noah cleared the table, Annette cut two large slices of peach pie that she'd gotten at a local Amish stand, and put them on the table. "Why don't you two take your pie out to the porch, and I'll clean up in here. There's a radio drama on the public station on in a few minutes I want to listen to.”

  Noah laughed. "Mom, I told you I can get that on a podcast for you any time so you don't have to listen when it's on."

  "Just go outside, Noah. I swear, sometimes you can't take a hint." She smiled, and Erin blushed and picked up the plates.

  On the porch, they sat side-by-side on the glider in the faded sunlight. Children rode bikes up and down the street, shouting to one another. When she and MacKenzie were kids, MacKenzie had also lived in a neighborhood, and Erin loved to visit her there. Erin’s family’s house by the lake was isolated and she’d often felt lonesome.

  "I don't know if I can eat all this," Erin said. "I haven't had biscuits in forever and couldn't stop eating them."

  "No worries. I'll help you out." When he grinned, his eyes smiled too, and Erin was doubly glad she'd come to the house. It was really the first time they'd been alone and relaxed since they’d sat on the dock together. She hadn't thought about Shelby Rae or her father or Julie once since they'd sat down at the table.

  "So, that was Katelyn today?" she asked, playfully. "I remember her from school, but we didn't hang out with the same people."

  "Yeah. Wanted me to service her car. Sorry about that." Noah shook hi
s head. "I had no idea. I haven't seen her in months."

  "Why should you be sorry? Oh, here." Erin switched plates with him, making sure he got the bigger piece of pie. The biscuits had been delicious and filling. "She didn't look very glad to see me."

  Now Noah laughed. "I was very glad to see you. What was that about, anyway?" He looked straight at her, his eyes questioning. "Did you mean it, or were you just messing with her?"

  "Mean what?" she asked, playing dumb.

  Noah put their plates on the low table in front of him. "This." He kissed her gently, and Erin felt as though her heart would burst.

  * * *

  Erin was dreamy about Noah and their kiss all the way home. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. But the spell was broken when she opened the door from the garage and her father came hurrying in from the kitchen. He was still dressed in the sport coat he’d worn to work.

  "Oh, it's you." His mouth wore a disappointed frown.

  "Gosh, thanks, Dad," Erin teased. Then she realized he was genuinely distressed. "What's wrong?" She followed him into the kitchen. An open bottle of scotch sat on the island, an empty glass beside it. Touching the bottle lightly she said, "Is this dinner? Where's Shelby Rae? Her car's gone."

  "Damn straight her car's gone. She texted me about an hour ago saying she decided she was driving up to the hotel at French Lick for a couple days to recover from the kidnapping. I don't know what's happening, here. Maybe Julie was right. Maybe she is having an affair. I should go after her." He put a hand in one pocket and took out his car keys.

  "Oh, no you don't," Erin told him. "You've been drinking. You don't need to be out on the road. Shelby Rae's a big girl."