by Sharon Sala
He grinned. “I remembered too.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before Johnny got up to refill his coffee and topped hers off too.
“Thank you. And thank you again for getting the high chair. It’s going to make such a huge difference for me,” Dori said.
“The boys picked it out,” Johnny said, eyeing the blue-and-white stripes on the back and seat. “They said it had racing stripes.”
Dori laughed again, and it was all Johnny could do not to get up and kiss her. Instead, he took a drink of coffee and then carried his bowl to the sink and rinsed it.
“You have my number. If you need anything, just call. I don’t know where I’ll be working today, but it’s so wet that if they’re not through fixing my dozer, I might wind up working on it down at the garage with the mechanic.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said as she rinsed her bowl and stacked it in his. “I’ll wash these after I come back from taking the boys to school.”
He nodded, then stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from putting them on her.
“You can wake them up about 6:30 and drop them off at school anytime after 7:45. School starts at 8:00.”
“I remember,” she said. “Some things never change.”
“So, I guess I’ll be leaving now,” he said.
“Don’t forget your lunch,” she said and handed him the red Tupperware container.
“Right. So, I’ll see you this evening,” he said and headed for the door.
“Johnny?”
He stopped and turned so fast he nearly dropped his lunch. “Yeah?”
“Have a good day.”
He smiled. “Yeah, you too.”
Chapter 17
Dori was hesitant to wake up the boys, but as it turned out, they were on their best behavior. She suspected that when Johnny had put them to bed last night they’d heard a speech about cooperation. They dressed without fanfare, combed their hair before they came to the table, and when she put their oatmeal in front of them and served it correctly without their input, they were elated. Raisins for Marshall. No dried-up grapes for Beep. As they ate, they watched her feeding Luther with great interest.
“Hey, Dori, didja hafta teach ole Joe there how to swallow, or did he come knowing how to do that?” Beep asked.
Dori stifled a laugh. Ole Joe. That was priceless.
“Well, he came knowing how to swallow milk, because he lies down in my arms when I feed him his bottle, but he is learning how to swallow sitting up, which is a whole other thing, see?”
Beep’s eyebrows arched. “Oh yeah! I guess Mama had to teach us the same thing.”
Dori sensed his need to maintain any kind of connection to the woman who was gone from his life.
“Yes, she sure did. She had to teach Johnny and Marshall and you.”
He and Marshall looked at each other and burst out laughing. When they did, Luther Joe laughed too, spitting oatmeal everywhere, which caused even more laughter.
“What was so funny?” Dori asked as she began wiping up the oatmeal Luther had spit out.
“That Johnny didn’t know how to eat either.”
She grinned. She guessed the image of their big, strong, take-charge brother not being able to spit or chew was funny.
“Nobody knows how when they’re born. That’s stuff everybody has to learn. Now hurry up and finish your cereal and go brush your teeth. I don’t want you guys late for school.”
They quickly did as she asked, leaving their bowls rinsed and in the sink before they left.
Dori made a face at Luther as she spooned up the last of the oatmeal for him to eat.
“Now if I could get you to be as polite as those two, I’d be in business.”
He made a face back at her and gobbled down the bite, then she began cleaning him up.
“We’re going for a ride, little man, and I need you to be a good boy.”
Luther didn’t seem ready to object, and when Dori lifted him out of his high chair and plopped him on her hip, he grabbed at her ponytail.
“And no hair in your mouth either,” she muttered and flipped her ponytail away from his grasping fingers.
“We’re ready!” the boys yelled as they came barreling into the living room.
“Don’t forget your lunches,” she warned as she picked up Luther’s blanket and the diaper bag.
They grabbed their lunch boxes and followed her out the front door. She buckled Luther into his little car seat and made sure the boys had buckled up as well.
It was straight-up 7:45 a.m. when she started the car and backed out of the driveway.
“Do you know the way to school?” Marshall asked.
“I sure do. I went to the same one you’re going to. I know the parking rules and the unloading zones and everything. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this,” she said.
Marshall nodded, seemingly pleased that his need to be involved in this process was unnecessary.
Dori drove straight to school without incident and wheeled into the unloading zone. The boys unlocked their seat belts.
“Both of you get out on the same side,” Dori said. “Marshall, you’ll have to scoot around Luther’s car seat. Have a great day, okay?”
“Okay,” they said, shutting the door and waving before running into the building.
Dori waved back and then put the car in gear and drove away.
“One job down, one to go, Luther Joe. We’re going to the grocery store. I’m making a special supper tonight and breakfast tomorrow, and it’s not going to be oatmeal.”
* * *
Peanut Butterman was in the bank waiting with Herman Lewis, the vice president, to go through Meeker Webb’s safety-deposit box. They, along with Lewis’s secretary, were standing inside the vault, waiting at a table for the clerk to bring them Meeker’s box. Since the owner was now deceased, it had to be opened in front of witnesses, and the contents identified and listed.
“Here we go,” Lewis said as the clerk brought the box over to the table. “Butterman, you do the honors.”
Peanut opened the lid and, at first sight, saw it to be an odd assortment of items.
Peanut eyed the secretary. “Are you ready?”
Her fingers were on the keyboard of her laptop as she nodded, so he picked up the small jewelry box that was on top.
“Okay…we have one diamond ring with rubies.”
She began to type.
“A property deed for plat 10, lots 22, 23, 24, and 25 in the town of Blessings, Georgia.”
“Got it,” she said, continuing to type.
Peanut pulled out a few more items, mostly what he identified as family keepsakes. The last thing in the box was a large manila envelope. He took it out and then pulled out the folder inside and began to read. A few moments later, he paused and let out a slow whistle.
“Hey, Herman, get a load of this,” he said and handed it to Lewis.
The vice president glanced at the file and then his eyes widened. “Did you know about this?” he asked.
Peanut shook his head. “No. Is the name of the stockbroker listed anywhere?”
“There’s a business card on the inside flap,” Lewis said as he handed back the file.
Peanut glanced at the secretary. “The last item to the list is one stock portfolio purchased eighteen years ago and belonging to Adorable Leigh Grant. Contact information: Myles Goodman, stockbroker. This would have been when she was born,” Peanut said.
The secretary frowned. “Adorable?”
“That’s what it says. I guess Dori is a nickname. As soon as you get that typed, I need a copy that has been witnessed and certified.”
“She’ll get right on it,” Lewis said.
“In the meantime, I’m taking the contents to my office and following up with the stockbroker.”
* * *
Dori had Luther down for a nap. There was cookie dough chilling in the refrigerator, and she was mopping her way through the house. She’d just finished the living room and was getting fresh water to do the kitchen when she heard a knock at the door. She dried her hands and went to answer.
Dori took one look at the heavyset, middle-aged woman on the threshold and felt uneasy.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Dori Grant?”
Dori frowned. “Yes, and who are you?”
She whipped out a card and handed it to Dori as if she were flashing a badge.
“Ethel Carter, DFCS. May I come in?”
Dori’s heart skipped a beat.
“What for?”
“I’m here to investigate a complaint lodged against you and Johnny Pine.”
“A complaint? What kind of complaint?”
“In these instances, I’m the one who asks the questions.”
She pushed past Dori and strode into the house without waiting for a proper invitation.
Dori didn’t know what was happening, but she wasn’t doing this alone. She pulled out her cell phone and sent Johnny a text while the woman was circling the room like a bloodhound trying to pick up a scent.
Caseworker from DFCS here. Complaint filed. Can you come home?
Then she dropped the phone in her pocket and closed the door.
Ethel Carter turned at the sound, and as she did, Dori’s phone signaled an incoming text. She read it, then put the phone back in her pocket.
Ethel’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is Johnny Pine?”
“He was at work, but he’s on his way home. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll both wait for him. In the meantime, could I get you something to drink? I have water, coffee, and Pepsi.”
Ethel blinked. The girl was brazen, not the least fazed by her appearance.
“How did he know I was here?”
Dori held up her phone.
“While you were investigating the living room, I sent him a text.”
Ethel flinched. That almost bordered on sarcastic, but the girl didn’t appear defiant or defensive.
“Nothing to drink for me,” Ethel said and then strode across the room and took a seat in the easy chair, leaving the sofa for them.
Dori sat with her hands in her lap and struggled to keep her composure, but her head was spinning. If someone had filed a complaint against them, then she would bet money it was Pansy Jones.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who filed the complaint?” Dori asked.
“That’s none of your business,” Ethel said.
“Well, actually, it is indeed my business, since whatever was said seems vile enough to warrant your presence. But since you feel you can’t divulge that, it doesn’t matter. The only person in Blessings who has an ax to grind with me is Pansy Jones, so I’ll assume it was her until someone tells me different.”
Ethel was surprised that the name had come out so easily and wondered if something else was going on that she didn’t know about.
Dori’s heart sank when she saw the reaction. Damn Pansy, anyway.
“I see I was right.”
And then she heard a car speed around the corner and knew it was Johnny. Moments later, the tires squealed as he hit the brakes and then turned up into the drive. Her fear eased.
“It appears our wait is over. I believe Johnny is home.”
* * *
Johnny was underneath the dozer when his phone signaled a text. He pushed himself out, and when he saw it was from Dori, he smiled. But when he read the text, his heart nearly stopped.
“Oh Jesus,” he muttered and sent a three-word text back.
On the way.
“What’s wrong?” Clawson asked.
“A caseworker from DFCS is at the house. I’ve got to go.”
Clawson frowned. “DFCS? What the hell?”
Johnny was already cleaning his hands. “I don’t know, but I’ll be back when they’re gone.”
He took off at a lope and drove home, trying not to panic. But when he saw the strange car parked beside the rental, he got a knot in his gut.
“Please, God, please don’t let this be bad,” he said and then got out of the car with his shoulders back and his head up. Whatever was happening, he couldn’t show fear.
As he walked inside, his gaze went first to Dori and then to the woman sitting in his chair, and for a moment, his heart literally stopped. Taking a slow breath, he laid his cap on the side table as he closed the door behind him.
“Miss Carter, as I live and breathe. What brings you back to my home?”
Dori was shocked. He actually knew this woman? And then it hit her. This must be the woman involved in his custody battle to get his brothers. She looked at the woman again, trying to gauge her reaction.
Ethel was surprised by his attitude. This wasn’t the green kid she’d seen in court. She’d lost track of how old he would be now, but he looked and acted like a man.
“I’m here to investigate a complaint,” she said.
“Pansy Jones made it,” Dori said. “I knew when I caught her telling lies at Granddaddy’s funeral that I’d made her mad. I didn’t think she would be this low.”
Ethel frowned. “I never said who filed the complaint.”
Johnny sat down on the sofa with Dori. He saw calmness on her face, but there was a tiny muscle jumping near her left eye. She was as scared as he was.
“Well, we’re here, so let’s get this over with,” Johnny said.
Ethel pulled a file and a recorder from her briefcase.
“I will be recording this interview,” she said and then waded in.
“Miss Grant…it is miss, right?”
“Yes.”
“My information states that you are underage.”
“No, ma’am, that’s not correct. I’m eighteen.”
Ethel frowned. Pansy had that wrong, but it didn’t change the basic reason she was there.
“Mr. Pine, state your age.”
“Twenty.”
She frowned. He’d been eighteen…barely when they’d met in court.
“And how long have you been living together?”
“Five days,” Johnny said.
Ethel blinked.
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that please?”
“Ever since last Thursday,” Dori added. “That’s when my granddaddy’s house burned down.”
“Why were you living with your grandparents?” Ethel asked.
“Because my parents died when I was nine. My grandmother died a couple of years back. There was just me and Granddaddy left.”
“And where is he? Why aren’t you still with him?”
Dori took a deep breath. “Because he—” Her voice broke.
Johnny answered for her. “Because he had a heart attack and died the night of the fire.”
Ethel frowned. Ordinarily, this is where Ethel would have gotten up and walked out of the house without a backward look. But this was Johnny Pine and the grudge still rankled, and there were still the children to consider.
Ethel ignored Dori’s tears.
“I understand you are an unwed mother.”
Dori inhaled sharply, but Johnny was already pissed on her behalf.
“Excuse me, Miss Carter…surely to God that cannot be of concern considering most of the people you do business with are in the same boat and worse.”
Ethel glared.
Dori clasped his arm.
“No, no, Johnny, it’s a fair question and not like I haven’t heard that said before. Yes, Miss Carter, you are correct. I have a child. He’s six months old and taking a nap.”
“Where’s the father?”
“I ha
ve no idea nor do I care. He has no part in our lives,” Dori said.
“Mr. Pine, I assume your little brothers are in school?”
“Yes.”
“How old are they now?”
“Ten and seven.”
“According to the complaint, you had an altercation with the law regarding the youngest one a few weeks back. Is that correct?”
Johnny’s heart was hammering against his chest so hard he felt sick.
“Inadvertently, that is correct.”
“What do you mean ‘inadvertently’? Either you were in trouble with the law or you weren’t.”
“We were not. My youngest brother was the victim of an assault at his school. The perpetrators have already been found guilty and sentenced. He’s healing, thank you for asking.”
Ethel frowned. Damn Pansy Jones for twisting facts. Ethel was a stickler for proper procedures.
“Yes, well, I’ll be checking into the court records,” she said.
“You might save yourself some time and talk to my lawyer, Peanut Butterman,” Johnny offered.
Ethel blinked twice. Butterman was well-known within the county, and the man cost money.
“Do you have a job?” she asked.
“Yes. The same one I had last time we met. I drive a dozer for Clawson Construction.”
“And you, Miss Grant. Do you work?”
“I did until the fire. Granddaddy kept the baby. Now I don’t.”
Johnny had heard enough.
“Exactly what was the nature of the complaint?”
“That you are corrupting the children under this roof by the lascivious behavior you display in front of them.”
Johnny’s face went blank and then he stood up.
“That’s a lie, and an ugly one at that. I would like to see proof. I want to know exactly what was offered up to you to speak such slanderous statements.”
“An accusation does not demand proof. That is why I’m here. To find the proof for myself.”
Dori stood up beside him, her hands clasped in front of her belly. Her voice was shaking and her eyes were, once again, filled with tears.
“Five days ago, I was washing dishes in the restaurant downtown, and then I went home and went to bed and woke up to a house on fire. I watched Granddaddy die in front of me while the firemen were trying to put it out. The crowd of onlookers was large as they watched my world go up in flames, but not a one of them offered me and my baby shelter. Johnny Pine and his little brothers saw the fire, and they saw everybody walk away from us. He offered shelter. I took it. My house burned Thursday. I buried Granddaddy on Saturday. I have cried most of the time I’ve been here, and now I am to sit here calmly and listen to you accuse me of having wild sex with a man who, up until Thursday, I knew only through school?”
