She found, however, that rejoining Pink and Grayson, trying to make a trio out of their duet, was easier said than done. Despite Pink’s professed desire for her attention, she felt like an intruder between them. You’ve let them drift so far away from you, she thought. They don’t even need you anymore.
Their major plan for the week was to go to the men’s store in town and buy Grayson a suit. Lillie brightly suggested that she go along with them, and she tried to ignore the unwilling look that passed between them at her suggestion. “It’s a men’s store,” said Grayson.
“That’s all right,” Pink amended hurriedly. “They allow women.”
Lillie tried not to be stung by her son’s reaction. It’s your own fault, she thought. You have been so preoccupied with your job, with Michele, and then with Michele’s death that they’ve come to prefer being without you. When the shopping day came, she was ready early and she chatted cheerfully on the way to town.
Once they reached the store, it required some effort for her to hold her tongue when Grayson chose the most expensive suit on the rack and Pink applauded his choice. She tried to be tactful, pointing out a few other options, but Pink announced grandly that he did not bargain-hunt when it came to his son. She decided not to protest when Grayson could not decide between two new shirts and Pink insisted that they buy them both.
When they got home Grayson tossed the expensive suit and shirts on his bed and went off to watch television. Lillie picked up the suit and hung it on the closet door.
Then she picked up the shirts and opened the bottom drawer of his bureau. When she looked in she saw a dozen new shirts, still in their bags, arrayed before her.
“Grayson,” she cried.
She stood up as the young man entered the room and pointed to the drawer. “What are these?” she demanded.
“Shirts,” he said pleasantly.
“What are you doing with all these new shirts? You haven’t even worn them.”
Grayson studied the bags in the drawer with an impassive expression. “In some cases,” he said, “I don’t have the right thing to go with them.” He bent down and picked up a yellow pinstripe. “This really needs a navy blazer, I think. And the one I have doesn’t look right in the shoulders anymore.”
“Where did you get the money to pay for these things?” Lillie asked. “You don’t even have a job.”
“I tutor sometimes,” he said defensively. “I told you that.”
“And you made enough for all these? Or did your father get them for you? And why in the world did you need two more shirts today?” she insisted.
“None of these goes with the suit,” Grayson said, closing the drawer with his foot. He turned and looked at his mother. “I thought you wanted me to look good for the dinner. 1 guess I misunderstood.”
Pink, who had heard their voices raised, appeared in the doorway.
“I do want you to look good. But this is wasteful, Grayson. You’ve got a closetful of clothes…”
Grayson turned to Pink. “Mom doesn’t think I need these clothes. Maybe we better just take them back.”
“You’re not taking anything back,” Pink said angrily, gesturing for Grayson to leave. He turned to his wife. “Would it be impossible for you just once to say something to him without criticizing him? Good God, most mothers would be bursting with pride over a boy like that. All you can do is pick at him.”
Lillie’s cheeks were burning. “I didn’t say he had to take the clothes back. I just wanted to know where he got the money for all these clothes in here. If he didn’t get it from you…”
“He didn’t get it from me,” Pink said sarcastically. “He tutors. And he likes to be properly dressed. If you paid attention, you’d know that.”
“But what does he need with so many?” Lillie protested.
Pink waved a hand at her in disgust. “Go back to your dream world, Lillie. I knew this would never work. Go back to your memories and your obsessions about Michele. Leave us be, will you?”
Lillie turned away from him, gripping the packaged shirts to her chest. Part of her wanted to scream at him, but another part thought that, in a way, he might be right. For such a long time she had not paid enough attention to her son, because of Michele, and now there was a lot about him that she didn’t know. She promised herself to try, from now on, to concentrate only on loving her son. And her husband. What they needed from her was attention and interest, not disapproval.
In the following days, the effort she made seemed to pay off. She began questioning Grayson closely about his days at school. He was suspicious at first, but her lavish praise made him garrulous about each day’s accomplishments. She learned from Grayson that he and Pink had had lunch twice together in the school cafeteria. If he was embarrassed to have his father come to school like that, he did not reveal it to her.
In keeping with her resolve, Lillie did not mention Michele’s name. When thoughts of Michele and nagging suspicions about her death began to buzz in her head, she redoubled her focus on her family. Her living family.
The night of the banquet she was ready early and it was Pink who had to be hurried along. Grayson looked sleek and elegant in his new suit. Lillie admired him effusively and he seemed to bask in her compliments.
The banquet was being held at the Briar Hill House. As they drove up its winding driveway, the old mansion glowed warmly ahead of them. But Lillie shivered at the sight. They got out of the car and stood for a moment in the damp night air, which smelled of moldering leaves. Lillie looked over at Pink, wondering if he was thinking of their last trip to this place. He avoided her gaze, turning instead to Grayson and beginning to inspect the boy’s tie, his collar and cuffs.
“He looks fine,” said Lillie. “Very handsome.” They started to walk through the decaying leaves on the lawn toward the brightly lit house.
“I’ve really been looking forward to this,” said Pink.
“So have I,” Lillie said. “Although I do dread going in there a little.”
She was immediately aware of a chill in the atmosphere. Grayson stared stonily ahead, and Pink let out a noisy sigh. All week her silence on the subject of Michele had gained their tacit approval. She could feel that her remark had offended them, as if she had broken some unspoken agreement.
“Well,” she said brightly, “this is a great occasion. May I take the arm of the guest of honor?” Grayson looked at her warily but proffered his arm. Lillie patted his cool hand as he led her into the foyer of the building.
The committee of wives had decorated the old mansion in a harvest motif, with arrangements of mums, pumpkins, and Indian corn. On the balcony, which overlooked the foyer, Gay Jones, the music teacher, was playing a piano. The love theme from Romeo and Juliet, which the spinsterish Miss Jones played with admirable flourish, wafted down and was picked up by many a hummer.
They each took a ticket for the door prize, hung up their coats, then joined the social hour, which was in full swing. Punch was being poured in the so-called library, which no longer held books but served as a perfect spot for a makeshift bar. Lillie peeked into the ballroom as she returned from the ladies’ room and saw Loretta and Brenda putting the last touches on the round tables set up there. It was a longer walk to the kitchen, but it was deemed more elegant than the cafeteria dining room for a grand occasion such as this.
‘This looks great,” Lillie said to Brenda, who kissed her cheek. “I just feel guilty that I didn’t help.”
“Don’t worry. We’re not putting up with these excuses much longer, right, Loretta?” said Brenda.
Loretta giggled and congratulated Lillie on the award Gray was getting. “And you look real pretty.”
“I’d better get back,” Lillie said. “See you later.”
She walked out of the ballroom and back toward the front rooms where the social hour was going on. As she came up from behind she saw a familiar stiff-backed figure standing in the shadow of one of the arched doorways. He was wearing a suit, and his s
hort crew cut looked as if it had been starched.
“Royce,” said Lillie, before she could catch herself.
The sheriff turned and looked at her with grim, unsmiling eyes. “Hello, Lillie.”
She felt guilty looking him in the eye, given all the ugly thoughts she’d had about his son. At the same time she could not help but wonder. Was it possible? Did he know? He looked so uncomfortable and lonely standing there. He rarely went to social functions since Lulene died, unless, as in this instance, his presence was virtually required. Leave him be, she thought. He had always been such a decent man. But she couldn’t help herself.
“How is Tyler doing at the Sentinel?” she asked in a voice that she tried to keep very neutral.
She noted the slight hesitation, the way he turned his eyes away from her. But his voice was calm. “Tyler is having difficulty adjusting, I’m sorry to say. But that’s the story of Tyler’s life.”
It was the only time she had ever heard him refer, even obliquely, to his disappointment in his son. Although it was no secret. How could it be? It seemed cruel to press the point, but she felt as if she must.
“It was just so sudden the way you took him off to school. Had you been planning that for a while?”
Royce’s eyes looked haunted in his leathery face. “Let’s say it had been coming for a long time,” he said evenly.
“You know, I never realized that he and Michele were close until recently.” Lillie could feel herself trembling as she said it.
“Tyler and Michele?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lillie said brightly. “I believe she was quite fond of Tyler.”
“I didn’t know that either,” said Royce. “I wasn’t aware of anyone who was fond of Tyler. Except for myself, of course,” he added in a flat voice.
Lillie almost wished she had never spoken. She felt so sorry for him again, and she felt guilty for even thinking such terrible things of him and his only child.
“We haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said.
Royce looked into the crowded foyer, but his gaze was distant. “I have not forgotten Michele,” he said, “if that’s what you mean. She is always on my mind.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Lillie said gently. “I know you’ve been working on it. Will you excuse me, Royce. I have to talk to some people.”
“Oh, sure,” said the sheriff. “It’s a big night for Grayson.” She thought there was a bitter note in his tone, and she looked back at him. He was pushing his way in the direction of the bar. With a son like Tyler, she thought, no wonder he was bitter.
She entered the room and, in a moment, was swept up in a welter of greetings and handshakes. The social hour passed swiftly, and then everyone surged into the ballroom and took seats at the assigned tables. Grayson was seated at the head table. Lillie and Pink found their seats near the front. As everyone took their places, the CC president, Sterling Grisard, tapped his glass for attention. The room quieted down and he thanked them all for coming. Promising speeches for after dinner, he introduced one of the two men in clerical garb at the head table, the Reverend Ephraim Davis, who would say grace.
After the black preacher stood up and delivered a brief prayer in a deep voice, everyone began eating. As the din of conversation rose, the woman beside Pink said, “How about that. A black preacher saying grace. He doesn’t even have his own church here. He’s just filling in over at Mt. Olive.”
Pink drained the wineglass beside his plate and looked around the table for the bottle. “Well,” he said, “you know the Chamber’s got two black members this year.”
“Who’s that?” asked the woman.
“They own the Crispy Chicken franchise out on Route Thirty-one.”
“Oh, yes,” said the woman. “I guess I saw that in the county paper.”
“They’ve got a Pakistani this year too,” Pink said. “He and his wife own the motel out on Crystal Lake.”
The woman buttered a hot roll and plunked it down on her plate. “Next year they’ll be saying grace in Hindu.” She sniffed.
Pink chuckled and then leapt from his seat as he saw Brenda passing by with a wine bottle in her hand. “Can I get a refill?”
Brenda came over and rolled her eyes at Lillie. “I gotta tell you, this is some job. I’ll be glad when you’re back. Grayson looks so handsome up there. Is that a new suit?”
“He just got it.” Lillie nodded.
“I swear he’s the handsomest guy in the room.”
Lillie smiled and looked proudly at her son, who was conversing earnestly with the businessman next to him.
The dinner progressed pleasantly and soon it was time for speeches and presentations. They sat patiently through the introduction of new members, a memorial for a recently deceased Chamber “ambassador,” a speech about economic growth in Cress County, and finally they came to the leadership awards. Pink, who had been refilling his wineglass at every opportunity, applauded loudly as Bomar Flood took the podium. Lillie could see that the back of Pink’s neck was red, and beads of perspiration shone on his shiny forehead.
“…a young man who has distinguished himself in his schoolwork, school activities, on the playing field, and in the family circle,” Bomar said. “We are proud to present him with this award.”
As warm applause rose and Gray stepped up to the podium, Lillie saw Bill and Betty Starnes get up from their table and walk to the door, their faces solemn. Lillie blushed with embarrassment as her son started to speak.
Grayson raised the plaque and took his time giving it an appreciative glance. Then he leaned over the podium. “Did I really do all that?” he asked in an ingenuous voice. The women giggled and the men in the audience shifted in their seats. “Well,” he said, “I am deeply moved by this honor.” His speech was brief and selfless, emphasizing service and duty. When he was done, Bomar patted him on the back, and they shook hands again, to more applause. Grayson sat down and Lillie felt herself relax. He had done well. He had sounded a little smug at first, she thought, especially after the Starneses’ silent protest, but everyone seemed to like the speech.
Pink turned and looked at her, his eyes glistening in his florid face. “It’s all worth it,” he said, his voice slurred a little. “It’s worth everything.”
“What is?” Lillie asked as the woman next to Pink said, “You should be very proud of that young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Pink assured her. “We are very proud.”
The remaining speakers droned on until Lillie thought she was going to doze off, and then, suddenly, it was over, and people were getting to their feet. Friends and neighbors came around, congratulating Lillie and Pink. At the edge of the group Loretta, still in her apron, stood talking to the clergyman who had given the invocation. Lillie noticed that no one else seemed to be talking to them. She excused herself and went over to Loretta.
“Loretta,” she said, “excuse me. I just wanted to say how lovely it all was. You guys did a great job. You sure you two still need me?”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” said Loretta. “That was a beautiful speech your boy made.”
“Why, thank you.”
Loretta gestured toward the clergyman beside her. “Lillie, I want you to meet a dear old friend of me and my family, Reverend Davis. Reverend, this is Miz Lillie Burdette.”
Lillie shook hands with the old preacher. “It’s nice to have you here, Reverend.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Burdette. You’re often in my prayers.”
Lillie looked at the old man in surprise. “I am?”
“Your family, I mean. Your daughter.”
“Oh, thank you, Reverend,” said Lillie. “That’s kind of you.”
“Has the sheriff been able to make anything out of what I told him, do you know? I never heard back from him.”
Lillie frowned and shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand.”
The old man tried to brush it off, slightly embarrassed.
“Oh, it’s nothing,
” he said. “It must not have been important.”
“No, please tell me what you mean,” Lillie insisted.
“Well, I simply told the sheriff how I saw your daughter that night—”
“The night she was killed,” Lillie interrupted.
“Yes, walking alone toward the road to the Arches. I was lost on the road, you see…”
Lillie felt as if a fist were tightening inside her. “She was alone? Walking along alone?”
“Well, yes. But then I saw a young man down at the Arches. Didn’t the sheriff mention this to y’all? He must have cleared it up right away.”
Lillie’s hands were icy and her knees felt as if they could scarcely support her. “What young man?” she asked quietly.
“He was down by the bridge. She was a lovely girl, Mrs. Burdette. She gave me directions on the road and then, as I turned into that dirt road to turn around, I caught sight of a young man down there.”
Lillie struggled to keep her voice calm, casual. “What did he look like?”
The reverend rubbed a grizzled cheek nervously. “Well, I only saw him for a second. He looked to be a tall, well-built boy. Black hair. Kind of longish. Didn’t the sheriff tell you all this?”
Lillie shook her head. Loretta peered into her face. “Honey, you don’t look too good,” Loretta said. “Why don’t you come sit down.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Burdette,” said the Reverend Davis. “I shouldn’t have reminded you of all that on this happy occasion.”
Lillie squeezed the old man’s hand as if she were gripping it for support. “No,” she whispered. “Thank you for telling me.”
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