"Maybe I'll go see, too,” Miss Laura said to nobody. But as no one appeared to be paying her any particular attention and Maggie had already disappeared she was left to just awkwardly smooth her skirt, sitting forward and crossing her legs with nowhere to go.
Lee grabbed his Coke from the tray and sucked at the straw, letting the soda draw up to his mouth and then fall back into the glass. The bubbles teased his tongue. If he'd done this at a restaurant or the diner Maggie would have killed him, as she called it slurking, and that was almost as bad as playing with food. Maggie was really putting on the airs tonight; he'd never remembered having a straw at home before.
Lee watched as Miss Laura eyed the chips. Then delicately, as though she was plucking a butterflies’ wing rather than a piece of fried potato, she retrieved a chip and ever so gently dipped it into the onion dip. She removed Charlene's pacifier, and holding it and the chip in one hand, she daubed just a touch of dip to the rubber sucker part. Sticking the thing back in the baby's mouth, she took the tiniest bit of a nibble of chip for herself. Through the whole process, as Lee watched, she kept her little finger arced out in a dainty curve.
Miss Laura, as she insisted Lee call her rather than the stuffier sounding Mrs. Miles, was a throwback to a genteel and more reserved era in the South. She had an air about her; there was no mistaking it. When she came into a room it seemed like the whole world slowed down and took a long, lazy step back. Along with her delightfully honey-thick southern belle's drawl, she was the living picture of what his father meant when he said that Ed had married a rich, hoity-toity sorority girl. Whenever Lee thought of Miss Laura, he remembered a picnic quite a few years back. Miss Laura had been sitting alone on a red and white checkerboard table cloth they'd spread out on the grass. She was wearing a broad, lacy, white hat with a pair of pink ribbons trailing off the back and a beautiful yellow and white skirt and blouse. The skirt was spread about her as though she was sitting in the middle of it. God, she'd been beautiful, just like a picture. Balanced on her lap was a paper plate surrounded by a slew of napkins. She was eating a fried chicken drumstick with a knife and fork, dissecting each and every morsel as delicately as if she was performing surgery. He'd told Ronnie about it, who'd immediately called him a liar. Ronnie said nobody ate fried chicken with a knife and fork.
"So, how's that T.V. been working?” Ed asked.
"Great,” Ted replied. “No complaints at all. You know, we even pick up channel eight."
Maggie came back in and took her place next to Ted. All eyes followed her as she made her way around the table.
"Patty tripped on something and fell down,” she announced to everyone's questioning looks. “She's okay, but you should see that room. You'd never know I had it spic and span this afternoon. It's just a disaster."
"Here,” Ted handed Maggie her drink. “I think you need this. Did you put any rum in?"
Maggie cast back one of those questioning looks Lee never could really understand and then took a sip, though unlike Miss Laura she never lifted her finger. “I only put in this much.” She pinched a thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, and held it up as she took another long drink, her cheeks dimpling as she sucked at the straw. When she was done she put the glass on the coaster, taking time to set it squarely in the center of the coaster. She exhaled, then added, “Now all of y'all know I'm not much of a drinker."
"So you even get channel eight?” Ed switched back to talking about the T.V. “Incredible. It's got to be that monster of an antenna you tricked me into helping you install.” Ed scooted forward to get closer to the chips. “You're probably the only family on this side of the valley that can pick up channel eight."
"Ed, I'm telling you it's been a godsend,” Maggie chimed in, lighting one of her Kools from the pack on the coffee table. “With us having just moved over here, there aren't any other little kids around here for Patty to play with. I think she'd drive me nuts if she couldn't watch T.V."
"You shouldn't let her watch too much,” Miss Laura offered, settling back in to lean up against the high back of the sofa and keeping her drink aloft so Charlene couldn't get a hold on it. “Most experts agree that children shouldn't be allowed to watch more than two hours a day."
Lee quickly looked over to Maggie to gauge her reaction. He knew her well enough to know that she didn't give a damn what experts from some college said.
Maggie kept her eyes on her glass as she sipped, holding her cigarette, as well as the straw, between two fingers and pulling the straw lightly up and down in the ice. When she'd had enough, she looked up and said more than a little icily, “I'm sure I'm the one who knows what's best for Patty.” Then Maggie looked straight at Miss Laura, adding brightly, “Her favorite show is Lucky Pup. She absolutely lives for it. Come four thirty, it's always Lucky Pup."
"I remember that show.” Ed was obviously trying to lighten the growing tension. “I mean, I didn't ever watch it, but my little sister did. I was a little too old for it. You know though,” he shook his head and looked a little confused, “I'd swear that show was cancelled ‘bout ten years ago."
Maggie concentrated on her glass again, not looking up. That icy tone was back. “Well, it's not cancelled now. We get it here."
"I like to let the girls watch a little afternoon T.V.,” Miss Laura said. “Mary Jane's Magic Castle is on in the afternoon. It really is quite a good and educational children's program. They don't just have cartoons or silly puppets beating each other.” She sat up and put her drink on the table, then as an afterthought, scooted it out of reach of Charlene. “They actually try to help the children learn something. I really do prefer programs that don't just spoil children and talk down to them. Now I'm not saying anything negative about Lucky Pup, mind you, Maggie. I'm not familiar with it is all. What channel did you say it's on?"
"Eleven, I think,” Maggie replied. “Yes eleven."
"Can't be eleven,” Miss Laura came back immediately. “Mary Jane's Magic Castle is on eleven at four thirty."
"If you like, you can go ask Patty.” Maggie finally looked up, no mistaking the frost in her glare. “As I said before, I know what my daughter watches."
"No. No. It's not important.” Miss Laura had grabbed the baby's hands and was patting them together. “It's just I'm careful about what I let my girls watch.” She switched to baby talk. “Aren't I Charlene, baby. You know mommy loves you."
Lee quickly looked back to Maggie. Though she wasn't looking at him, her thoughts were reviled by the manner in which she ground out her cigarette, crushing it into the pile.
Ed interrupted. “You know, I'm positive that show was canceled back in ‘51 or ‘52. My littlest sister, Marlene was a little older than Belinda's then; she pitched a hissy fit. She even got my dad to write a letter to the network to complain.” He sat back and hitched up a leg. “Course, it didn't do any good."
"Well it's on now.” The sharp cut of Maggie's tone was like acid. “Are you saying you think I'm crazy, that I don't know what I've seen with my own two eyes?"
Lee tried to be diplomatic. “I've seen it, too. It's about this dog that inherited a million dollars. There's these two puppets, one's called Pinhead and the other's Foodini. They're always trying to steal Lucky Pup's money."
For a moment, no one said anything.
Ted quickly finished off his beer and shook the bottle so the remaining suds sloshed around. “How ‘bout another, Ed?"
"Sure thing,” Ed nodded quickly. He probably would have agreed to cod liver oil right now if it would help to change the subject from Lucky Pup. He still had half a bottle on the coffee table. He picked it up and drained it.
Ted started to get up, but Maggie snatched the bottle away and stood. “I'll get it.” She began to make her way toward the kitchen, then stopped suddenly and snatched up the two empty glasses neither man had poured his beer into and gave Ted an icy glare.
After that, no one said a thing. All that could be heard were the click of Maggie's heels on the hardwoods
making double time with the tick of the clock. As soon as Maggie was in the kitchen Lee noticed that Uncle Ed and his dad exchanged looks. Miss Laura had gone back to playing with the baby, surely the only one in the room who was oblivious to the tension.
Since Maggie hadn't taken his bottle, Ed had stuck his empty on the end of a finger and was wobbling it around. “You'll have to show me that new bike a little later there, Lee. I guess you keep that baby out in the garage?"
Ted leaned forward and slapped Lee's knee. “You won't believe this kid, Ed. Last Thursday night I picked it up from Patterson's after work, and he was waiting for me out on the porch. Then, he even slept with it in his room!” Ted's grin bloomed. “Hell, it'd be in there right now if Maggie'd let him."
Ed laughed, and grinned at Lee. “I don't blame you. Hey, remember the first year we were playing ball, Ted? Right after you moved to town? Was it tenth grade?"
"Yeah,” Ted came back. “I moved in with my uncle in ‘44, right near the end of the war."
"Okay, ‘44,” corrected Ed. “Gee, was it that long ago?"
Ted nodded. “Sixteen years."
Ed shook his head. “Anyway, you had that bike with those ridiculously huge balloon tires on it. Man, that thing looked silly with those things on it. Looked like something out of the thirties. Where'd you get those tires, anyway? Did you steal ‘em from Al Capone's car?"
Ted grinned. “Hell, I was lucky to have ‘em. You couldn't get tires during the war."
Maggie emerged from the kitchen with a beer for Ted and another for Ed. This time she'd wrapped them in tissue to catch the sweat just the same they did at the drive in. She didn't hand them to the men, but instead put them down on the tray and grabbed one of her Kools, taking her seat without looking at anyone or saying a thing.
"Whatever happened to that thing?” Ed picked up his beer from the tray and held it up in a salute. “Thanks, Maggie."
In response she gave him a back her tight smile, and then made a point of looking off toward the clock on the wall and sighing.
"The thing's probably still over in my uncle's garage on Peach Street.” Ted retrieved his new beer as well. “When Darva Anne and I got married, I left most of that junk over there."
Maggie swung her gaze around to glare at Ted, now giving him the tight smile. She always assumed that perturbed and bothered expression whenever her sister's name was brought up, regardless of who it was that had mentioned her.
Ted backpedaled. “We're talking about this old bike, Maggie. I had it when I moved here from Pittsburg. I'm sure you remember? It's when I lived with my uncle, after my dad died. It was painted black and had these huge whitewall tires on it Ed likes to make fun of.” Ted held out his arms to show how big around and then made a circle using the fingers of both hands. “About that thick, huh Ed?"
Ed had grabbed an enormous handful of peanuts. “Yeah, at least.” He popped a couple in his mouth using the same hand and managing to not spill a one. Munching, he added, “That's right, sometimes I forget you're a Yankee, moved here from Pittsburg. I keep forgetting that's why you sound so funny."
"Born there, but not bred,” Ted came back. “It's not my fault my dad moved up north to get a job. Both he and my mom were both originally from Weaverville.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you know Weaverville is actually south of here."
Ed had a mouthful of peanuts so he just winked and nodded.
"You remember that bike don't you, Maggie?” Ted pressed on though it was deathly plain she wasn't interested. “I think I rode it over once or twice when Darva Anne and I first started seeing each other."
Maggie's smile drew up into the tightest line. She shook her head, then spoke up caustically, “Why on Earth would you think I'd remember anything like that?"
Ted's smile faded, and he let his fingers drop to his lap.
This was the first time Lee had heard his mom's name mentioned around Maggie twice in one evening in as long as he could remember.
"You know they tore that house down.” Ed swallowed his peanuts and tried to change the subject.
Ted sat up. “My uncle's place?"
"Yeah, about two weeks ago. They're putting in a new Piggly Wiggly.” Ed seemed to think of something. “Didn't your uncle own that house?"
Ted shook his head. “No. He was just renting."
"That's a shame. Whoever owned the place probably made out like a bandit. Let's see.” Ed looked up to the ceiling fan. “Your uncle died when you were in Korea, right?"
"No about six months before I left for basic training in ‘49.” Ted was leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. “Lee was about two I think. You don't remember Uncle Curtis, do you son?"
Lee shook his head.
"Too bad. He was a good guy. He did right by me taking me in like that. I mean, I really didn't have anywhere else to go. If it hadn't of been for him it would have been the state school."
Maggie finished her rum and Coke and made a loud gurgling sound with her straw so that everyone, including the baby, looked up at her. She cocked her head and smiled a real smile for the first time that evening. “Oops. Sorry. Excuse me."
"Why don't you go get yourself another, honey,” Ted suggested. “We're having us a party tonight."
Maggie was looking back at him with that grin hung on her face, completely oblivious to the fact her cigarette's ash was so long it had to break off at any second.
Ted nodded, and Maggie following his eyes quickly tapped her cigarette over the ash tray.
Ed slapped his knee, drawing everyone's attention. “It's been a long time since we've had ourselves a knock down drag out party. Too long! How ‘bout a toast?” He held out his bottle. Ted picked his up, followed by Lee, then Miss Laura with her glass and finally Maggie with hers empty. “To friends!"
"To friends!” they all said in unison.
Maggie got to her feet, but had to steady herself on the arm of the chair. “Any of y'all need anything from the kitchen while I'm up?"
"Another round of beer, and keep ‘em coming, wench.” Ted gave Maggie a playful slap on the butt.
Five minutes ago he'd have slept on the couch tonight for doing such a thing. But Maggie was a terrible lightweight when it came to alcohol. After one drink took hold she'd usually start slurring. Two drinks and she'd calm right down and loosen up considerably. After three drinks, she usually started arguing, threw up, or fell asleep, sometimes doing all three in that order.
Lee knew the rum was doing its job, because she even smiled down at Miss Laura. “Need a refresher, hon?"
"Please.” Miss Laura almost handed over her glass, but stopped short. “Here, Ed. You hold the baby. I want to see Maggie's kitchen."
CHAPTER TEN: DARVA ANNE
Ed scooted Charlene over to his lap, then moved his knees so Laura could get by. As soon as the women were in the kitchen he leaned in and grabbed another handful of chips. Taking the pacifier out of Charlene's mouth he gave her one biggest unbroken chip to suck on.
"Don't tell Laura I did that,” he winked at Lee. “She says salt's bad for babies."
Lee noticed it was just the men left in the room. He couldn't remember ever being at an adult party where at some point all the men didn't end up in one room and all the women in another.
"Kind of hard to believe we're sitting in here in Kathleen's house, huh Ed?” Ted remarked putting his arm up, and leaning further back into his chair.
"Life plays funny tricks,” Ed agreed. “When Darva Anne died you were overseas in Korea. I was in, let's see ... I was in my senior year at State. I remember coming home that weekend for the funeral. I think that was one of the last times you Kathleen and Maggie were all together in this house and everyone was still cool."
"Can you imagine it was Kathleen who first suggested Maggie help me with Lee?” Ted said.
Ed started to say something else but looked at Lee at the other end of the sofa, and must have changed his mind. Finally he said, “Can't say as I remember the place has c
hanged all that much since then."
"No,” Ted agreed. “Last month when we walked in the door it was for the first time in at least nine or ten years—"
"Since before you and Maggie got married, right?” Ed interjected.
Ted finished off his beer. “Oh yeah, when Maggie finally moved in with me and Lee, that was the last straw as far as Kathleen was concerned. She came over, and we all had that big fight. And I'm tellin’ you, that woman could hold a grudge. It's that Irish blood."
Ted started to elaborate but realized Lee was staring at him. “Hey, where's the girls with that other round?"
"Hey girls!” Ed yelled. “We're getting dry out here!"
Lee held up his empty glass.
"And bring Lee another Coke,” he added.
Just then Patty, Belinda and Mary came pouring down the hall dragging a blanket behind them loaded with stuffed animals along for a ride. They were screaming and laughing over something they obviously thought was hysterical. Immediately upon seeing the girls, Charlene became excited and started bouncing up and down on her dad's lap. She had the pacifier working, and finally got so excited she spit it out completely and let out with a delighted scream.
"Girls! Girls!” Ted yelled over the din. “Run in the kitchen. I think Mommy's got something for you."
Leaving the blanket and its riders where it lay, all three ran helter-skelter for the kitchen door.
"Here. I'll go to the kitchen and trade the baby for our beers,” Ed said, getting up and swinging Charlene up to his shoulder.
Lee eased back, thinking over the little glimmer of his family history he'd just heard. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to imagine what he'd experienced as a baby, but couldn't remember. If there was fighting between Maggie, Grandma Bonham, and his dad he couldn't recall any of it. He came out of it, and realized he was staring at the Indian in the paneling. Every time he looked at it he couldn't get over how real it looked, after all, it was just a pattern in the wood grain. But it really was like an illustration. The figure was turned and facing out, looking into the room, even the detail in his eyes easily visible. In size and even expression he suddenly reminded Lee of the cigar store Indian he'd seen in the Ballard's entry way. The resemblance was incredible, even down to the scowl.
Evil Heights, Book II: Monster in the House Page 20
