by Sharon Sala
* * *
The next day for Jake started out as the last one had ended—back with the family. There was more food, more stories, more laughing, and more weeping. By the time they left for the cathedral, he was emotionally exhausted. He’d been told what to expect, but the ornate countenance of the old Catholic church was far grander than anything he’d ever worshiped in, and the ceremony was lost in his wish that it was over.
The family had spoken with the priest and requested certain aspects of the service be given to any of his friends who wanted to speak of how they knew him, and so they came, one by one to the front of the church, and were handed a microphone to speak. Some were sad. Some brought laughter. Even the priest told a story of Joaquin’s years as an altar boy and getting caught tasting the wine. It was the laughter that Jake held on to, because he knew his time would come when there was little to laugh at.
And then Sophia reached out and patted his arm, and he stood. By his uniform, he was marked as someone from the place where Joaquin’s life had ended. But it was with respect and not anger that his presence was received.
“My name is Jacob Lorde. Joaquin called me ‘Georgia boy,’ because that’s where I’m from. I have no words to explain what he meant to me other than he was the brother I never had. He saved my life. Twice. I would have given anything to return the favor. I didn’t know what had happened to him until right before Sophia sent me a package. In it, her letter said she had promised Joaquin that if anything ever happened to him that she was to send me a bottle of tequila, a plane ticket to his funeral, and to remind me that I owed him five dollars.”
The congregation was in tears, and then they laughed. When Jake took a folded-up five-dollar bill from his pocket and laid it on the altar, they were crying all over again. “Here you go, DeSosa. Now all I owe you is my life.”
Jake was shaking as he walked back to where he’d been sitting. He had no memory of the end of the service or of going back to the hotel. He sat in the hotel bar alone later in the evening and ordered a shot of tequila, then looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and lifted the shot glass in a toast.
“To you, my brother. You are loved. You will be missed.”
He downed the drink and went straight to his room and packed, set the alarm, and sent Laurel a text. Home tomorrow. Today was hard.
Her text came back quickly, as if she’d been waiting to hear from him. Tomorrow will be better. We will be waiting.
He exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath and then lay down on the top of the bed, fully dressed in what he intended to wear home tomorrow. He was wasting no time.
Daylight couldn’t come soon enough.
* * *
Laurel got up the next morning with a feeling of anticipation and, at the same time, one of dread. She had a pie in the oven before daylight, and as soon as she got Bonnie off to school, she loaded up the warm pie and headed north.
She drove through Blessings with a knot in her stomach and kept driving until she took the turn that would take her back to her past. When she reached the road where all of the Payne family lived, she started to shake. Twice she almost turned around and went home, but each time she reminded herself that life wasn’t about doing what was easy. Life was about doing what had to be done.
She knew the turnoff to Beverly’s home by heart, and when she got there, saw the yard was packed with cars. Dogs began to bark when she drove up and parked, and children who’d been playing out in the yard stopped to see who was arriving. She recognized her nieces and nephews and was shocked by how much they’d grown in the past two years.
Dreading the next few minutes with all her heart, she picked up her pie and slid out of the car. The air was sharp, and the sun wasn’t shining. The only thing positive was that the warm pie felt good in cold hands.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at the men standing around beneath the bare-limbed trees, as if they were still in need of shade. She was scared half out of her mind at how she would be received, but she kept telling herself this was the right thing to do.
She had just reached the porch when the front door suddenly opened. Beverly came out wearing an apron over what Laurel knew was one of the dresses that she probably wore to church. A half dozen women came out behind her. Laurel recognized every one of them.
The look on Beverly’s face was one of shock, but Laurel came up the steps until they met on the porch. For a few strained moments, she looked at each without speaking.
And then Laurel stated the obvious. “I brought a pie. I am so sorry for what’s happened to your family.”
Beverly burst into tears, took the pie out of Laurel’s hands, handed it off to one of the others, and threw her arms around Laurel’s neck. They cried together for all they’d lost—for the family and for the years of rancor between them—until they couldn’t cry any more.
“Will you come in?” Beverly asked.
Laurel wiped her eyes and shook her head. “No. I have two houses to clean before Bonnie gets home.”
Beverly saw how thin Laurel was compared to before. But that determined look was still in her eyes, and she wouldn’t say more. “I understand. Thank you for coming. This means the world to me…to all of us.”
“And to me,” Laurel said, but when she turned around to walk back down the steps, David was standing between her and her car.
She glanced back nervously at Beverly. “It’s okay,” Beverly said. “We’ve all had our come-to-Jesus meeting this week.”
Laurel went down the steps with her head up, but instead of trading angry words, David hugged her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Please forgive me.”
Laurel was struggling with what to say when she began seeing pieces of Adam in her brother-in-law’s face. “You should be,” she whispered, and then hugged him back. “What on earth were you thinking?”
David was struggling not to cry, but he managed a wry grimace. “You already know the answer to that. None of us had a thought in our heads unless Mama put it there. Just know that I will regret what we did for the rest of my life.”
“Beverly came to my house the other day. Bonnie didn’t know who she was. Is that how it’s going to be?”
David looked horrified. “No, no!” Then he shook his head in disbelief. “She didn’t know her?”
“She won’t remember any of you. She was four when Adam died. Two years of absence in a toddler’s life is a lifetime, so if you want a future relationship with your niece, you will have to rebuild it.”
“For sure,” David said. “Luke and I will make this right.”
“He’s going to be okay?” Laurel asked.
David’s shoulders slumped. “His body will heal long before his heart does. I’m sure you know that better than most.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. So, I need to leave now. Work is always waiting.”
“Let us know if we can help.”
A twinge of anger shot through her that she was finally hearing this so long after the fact, and then she let it go. “We’re okay, Bonnie and I. My mom and dad are getting up in years, but they’re still a lot of help.” And then she thought of Jake and decided they might as well know now that her life was her own. “And Mr. Lorde’s son moved home. He’s nearby and has been unexpected, but much appreciated help.”
“Luke told me that he was the first one on the scene at the wreck. He said Jake saved his life by putting a tourniquet on his leg. It kept him from bleeding to death.”
“Jake told me that it was bad. He has some issues with PTSD, and so all of that was like taking a step back into the war for him.”
David’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know. I will make a point to thank him for that next time I see him.”
“I better go,” Laurel said.
David reached out and momentarily grasped her wrist. “Be happy, Laurel. Adam would want that.”
“I know.”
And then she was gone, but her presence there on the mountain had served the purpose for which she’d gone. The ill will was over—dead with Adele. It was past time for joy to come home.
* * *
Truman was in the bushes behind Laurel’s trailer when he saw her drive away. Since she was gone and Jake Lorde was gone, he figured he could pilfer anything his heart desired without fear of being caught.
He slipped through the trees to the first building and saw one chicken in the little lot, scratching in the dirt. He saw the name painted on the threshold above the door to the coop and grinned. “So your name is Lavonne! I once screwed a girl named Lavonne,” he said, and then laughed as if he’d said the funniest thing.
But the chicken meant nothing, and he didn’t want to cook, so he paused, trying to decide what to do next. He saw the trailer. It was an older one. He could break into the back door easily without being seen from the road, but he knew the bitch was poor. Probably wasn’t worth the trouble. It would be easier to move on up the road to the Lorde property. There was plenty there to be had. He just had to make sure what he took couldn’t be traced back to Jake. Not only was he scared of going back to prison, but he was also scared of Jake Lorde. After all, the dude had gone to war and came back crazy. He did not want a piece of that.
He noticed a shed that had seen its better days. There might be something in there he could haul off for good money, so he headed that way. He noticed, as he drew closer, that there was some kind of paper tacked to the door. When he finally got to it, he had to squint and get closer to read what it said.
It appeared to be a note from the local vet to Laurel Payne that he’d removed the carcass and was taking it back to the lab for testing. If it turned out to be rabid as suspected, they would let everyone know an animal in the area had been diagnosed with rabies.
It was the word rabies that finally got his attention.
“Holy shit!” he yelped, and yanked away from the doorknob he’d been holding on to and wiped that hand on his pants.
He pivoted in a panic and began looking at every bush and tree, imagining some loco animal coming after him. All of a sudden, the thought of pilfering anything on this property took a dive.
Once he realized he had a clear shot to the path leading back to the creek, he took it. He ran through the trees and bushes, scrambling down the creek bank, splashing through the water and then scrambling back up the other side, and didn’t stop running until he reached his truck. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with his keys, and then finally, they were in the ignition, and he was gone.
He kept telling himself that it wasn’t like he was giving up on ruining Jake Lorde’s life, but he had plenty of time to enact revenge. He’d just wait until this rabies scare died down.
* * *
Jake wouldn’t let himself sleep on the plane home for fear he’d have a dream and freak out the passengers. He changed planes in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and then had a nonstop flight from there to Savannah, Georgia.
The last leg of the flight was like the first. He’d bought a book in the Tulsa airport and then felt like a dinosaur reading the paperback when nearly all of the other passengers were using technology. But the truth was, he didn’t mind. He’d never much cared what anyone else thought about him, and he liked the feel of holding a book. Turning the page was part of the experience, like walking through another door in a house you’ve never seen, wondering what was in it—what happened next—and holding the book left him in control.
Later, landing in Savannah was a huge relief to Jake. He was this much closer to home. He got his luggage, retrieved his truck from airport parking, and started home.
The day was chilly, and the sky was gray. When it began to rain, he didn’t even care. He’d take rain any day over a damn sandstorm. He knew the way home, and the windshield wipers had his six.
Chapter 14
Laurel kept an eye on the time as she stopped at the Piggly Wiggly for groceries. She had just dropped her last item in the basket when she heard a familiar voice.
“Laurel! Hey, honey.”
She turned, smiling, and gave her mother a big hug. “Mama! You look good. Are you feeling better?”
Pansy Joyner patted Laurel’s cheek. “Yes, I’m finally better. That flu bug took a big bite of me, for sure. How’s my other girl? I haven’t seen her since just after she got her stitches out.”
Laurel grinned. “Bonnie Carol is fine, and her scar is now a badge of honor. You and Dad need to come over some night and eat supper with us.”
“That sounds great. You name the night, and we’re there,” Pansy said.
“Well, today is Thursday. I work late tomorrow, so why don’t we say Saturday around six? I’m home all day. That will give me time to make something good.”
“Okay with me,” Pansy said, and then took her daughter by the hand and gave it a little tug. “So, do you have anything you want to tell me?”
Laurel frowned. “Tell you? Are you talking about the feud finally ending between me and Adam’s family?”
Pansy gasped. “No, I didn’t know about that. Thank goodness. You’ll have to tell me all about it Saturday. I was talking about the date you had over the weekend.”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “Mama, having a meal with our next-door neighbor is hardly a date.”
“Well, he’s obviously around you enough that you’re comfortable going out with him, and we didn’t know anything about it.”
Laurel wasn’t surprised this conversation was happening, but she wasn’t happy about it either. “Let’s see, Mama. Let me think. Oh, he loaned me his truck the day Laurel cut her chin because mine went flat in front of his house. He’s returned some of my mail that wound up in his box, and… Oh yes…this is the real kicker. He shot a rabid raccoon at my house Sunday.”
“Rabies?”
“We think so. It was acting really strange. Bonnie was outside when she saw it. It’s a miracle she wasn’t bitten.”
Pansy shivered. “Oh my, I’m so glad she wasn’t.”
“Me too. I know I could have called Dad, but I was afraid the animal would run off before anyone could kill it, and then we’d all have to be worried about some rabid animal on the loose. I took a chance and called Jake because he was closest, and he came.”
Pansy listened, but she knew her daughter. “So, do you like him?”
Laurel shrugged. “What’s not to like, Mama? He’s kind to both of us.”
“He was a soldier, too,” Pansy said. “What if he—”
Laurel frowned. “Stop right there, Mama. You’re better than that. Daddy fought in the Vietnam War. Are you going to tell me he didn’t have bad times after he came back?”
Pansy flushed.
“Look,” Laurel said. “I’ll see if Jake will come to dinner Saturday night. But you both need to keep in mind, he’s not a stranger. He’s older than me, but he belongs to Blessings just like the rest of us. Now, I have to hurry. I have to be home before Bonnie gets off the bus. I love you, but you have to remember, I’ve been married, birthed a baby, and I have seen the devil and survived my own kind of hell. You have no say in how I live my life because I am an honorable woman. It is just your job to love me, understand?”
Pansy took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll bring dessert,” she said.
“Good. I like your cooking better than mine anyway,” Laurel said, then kissed her mother on the cheek and hurried to check out.
Pansy Joyner saw the bounce in her daughter’s step. She hadn’t seen that in years. Laurel liked Jake Lorde, whether she knew it or not.
* * *
It started raining while Laurel was in the grocery, and now she was getting soaked putting groceries in the backseat. By the time she got in the truck, she was shivering and started the engine so she could turn on the heater.
She
thought about the route Bonnie’s school bus would take and then glanced at the time. If she hadn’t stopped to talk to her mother, she would have had been able to pick Bonnie up from school, but now, it was too late. She would just have to hope the roads didn’t get too slick before the driver could get the kids home. Even though their road was blacktopped, half of the route it took was on dirt back roads. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been stuck.
She drove out of town with a knot in her stomach and knew part of it had to do with her mother. The questions had made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like being forced to justify her actions to anyone. She would do what she felt was right, and if she wanted to see Jake Lorde anytime he was in the mood for company, then that’s what she would do.
She drove home in a snit, and when she passed Jake’s house couldn’t help but look for his red truck under the carport, even though she knew it was too early for him to get home. Still, she felt a surge of excitement just knowing he was going to be back within reach.
She got to the trailer and unlocked the door, then left it ajar as she ran back for the sacks. Both hands were full as she ran to the house, tracking mud and water as she went. She kicked off her shoes as she shut the front door and then headed to the kitchen to put up groceries. She stripped in the utility room and then ran naked to her bedroom for dry clothes, turning up the thermostat as she went.
Later, Laurel drove the pickup up the long drive to the road to get Bonnie off the bus. The rain was still heavy, and her driveway was mud. She had already fed Lavonne, gathered her egg, and then shut her up for the night. There was soup thawing on the stove and a load of clothes in the washer. Everything was in order. After surviving what Adam had done to their lives, she needed order to be able to function.
Sitting in the truck and listening to the rain hammer on the roof was making her sleepy, so when the bus finally appeared, she was glad. She jumped out, comfortably waterproof this time in rubber boots and a raincoat. And she had an umbrella to keep Bonnie dry until she got her in the truck.
