by Amy Metz
He was quiet for a moment, then blurted out, “Well, ma’am, I’m just flat out sorry. I don’t know what got into me. But if you’ll forgive me, I swear I’ll do my best to stay on the straight and narrow from now on.”
Caledonia piped up, “You got that right.”
“What can I do to make it up to y’all?”
“You stay on the straight and narrow, Pickle, and that’ll do just fine.” Tess patted his arm. “I expect it’s pretty hard to say no to an intimidating man like Crate Marshall, right?”
“Pickle,” Henry Clay said, “did you hear what happened to Marshall?”
“Yes, thank you, we heard,” Caledonia said. “Now don’t you dare go makin’ my boy think that was his fault. Anything happened to him was his own doin’s. What do you wanna say to Mizz Louetta, Pickle?”
“Mizz Louetta, please, please, please may I keep my job? You’re the best boss in town, and just like I said to Mizz Tess, I’ll work my hardest to prove I’m worthy.”
Lou looked at Pickle for a full ten seconds. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Peekal. But listen here, and listen good. You mess up again, and I'll slap the taste right outta your mouth! No offense, Caledonia.”
“None taken, Lou,” Caledonia said.
“Yes’m. I promise I’ll make y’all proud of me.”
“Okay, thank y’all for bein’ so understandin’. We’ll get outta your hair now.” Caledonia pulled on Pickle’s arm.
“Don’t get up, Lou. I’ll walk them out,” Jack said, motioning ever so slightly to Tess to join him.
“I’ll walk you out, too,” she said, trying to cover a smile.
“Pickle, hold on a minute,” Jack said, once they were all outside of the house.
“Is there somethin’ more you want to say?”
Pickle looked a little puzzled, then he looked at the ground, and finally up, directly into Jack’s eyes. “You can't judge the depth of a well by the handle of the pump.” He turned quickly and walked away.
“Somethin’s not right. He’s holdin’ somethin’ back,” Jack said, watching Pickle and his mother get in their car.
“What do you suppose he meant by the depth of the well, and the handle of the pump?”
“Beats me entirely. Sounded kinda cryptic, didn’t it?”
They waved, as Pickle and his mother drove away. It was almost dark, but the sky still had some streaks of purple and red. Jack pulled Tess toward him and looked into her eyes. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, you,” she said softly. He cupped his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss that started out slow, but grew hungrier. Finally, he ended the kiss with a groan, hugging her tight.
“Aw, Tess, the things you do to me.”
She pulled back. “What things?” She smiled up into his eyes.
He kissed her again and then whispered, “I want you, Tess. I think about you all the time, I can’t get enough of you.” He stood looking into her eyes for a moment. “I think I’m falling in love with you.” He kissed her again and then whispered, “I just thought you should know.”
Tess pushed her hands into his thick, wavy hair and said softly, “Nick goes home tomorrow. How about you come over for dinner tomorrow night?”
Wollerin’ In Sorriness
wollerin’ in sorriness: verb wahl-er-in in sawr-ee-ness feeling sorry for oneself
He’s wollerin’ in sorriness.
[ July 2010 ]
“When did Nicholas take off this morning?” Jack asked Tess, as she cleaned up supper.
“Around nine. It was good to see him. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t move to Birmingham with him. But I wanted a small town, and Goose Pimple Junction drew me right in. Besides, what twenty-five-year-old guy wants his mama following him to town?”
“True.”
“And I do like my independence. I like being able to come and go, and see whoever I want, whenever I want.”
“I like that, too,” he said with a grin. “But he’s a great kid, Tess. You did good.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you mind if I give Ezzie a little treat?” Jack pointed to some of the leftover ham.
“Not at all. I’m glad you brought her tonight.”
Jack put some meat on the floor for Ezzie and walked over to Tess at the sink.
“Excellent dinner, Tess.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck.
She leaned back into him for a moment. “Mmm, you always smell so good.”
“How good?”
“Irresistibly good.” She rubbed her cheek against his hair.
“That’s what I was goin’ for,” he whispered.
“Let me finish these dishes, and I’ll give you my undivided attention.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Just stand there and look good.” She flashed a smile over her shoulder.
Jack stepped back, but began rubbing her shoulders instead of walking away.
“Oh my gosh, that feels good.” She closed her eyes and let the water continue to run over the already clean dish.
“Ah, ah, ah! No stopping. If you stop working, I’ll have to stop massaging. We don’t need the clean-up to take any longer than necessary. Unless you want to take a break and finish those later.”
“You’re a cruel man, Jackson Wright,” she teased. “But I’m anal retentive. If I don’t clean these up it will be niggling at me all night.”
“Hmmm, I’d like to be niggling at you all night,” Jack said in an imitation Groucho Marx voice.
“I’ve been thinking, Jack . . . “
“Me too. What’ve you been thinking about?”
“Does it make sense to you that Tank would commit suicide over a little mischief?”
“No, as a matter of fact it does not. I was thinking the same thing. He was tough as nails. And he probably would’ve gotten off with a slap on the wrist. Nothing major. Nothing worth dying over. And he told us about his grandfather’s involvement in both crimes. So what are we missin’?”
“I don’t know! It just doesn’t add up.” His fingers had left her shoulders and were working their way down to the small of her back. She dried her hands and put them behind her, pulling him in for a backward hug. They stood that way silently for several seconds. Then she wiped down the countertop and turned to look at him.
“So . . . what are you thinking?” she asked.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked with a mischievous grin.
“About Tank’s murder, Jack.” She took his hand and led him to the den.
“Well . . . I’m thinking he was murdered,” Jack said simply, sitting on the sofa.
“But by whom?” She settled on the couch next to him and pulled her legs up under her.
“I haven’t figured that part out yet. I’ve had other things on my mind.” He flashed that killer smile at her.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Tess was up and out of the room before Jack could stop her.
When she returned a few minutes later with a candle and matches, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at her laptop screen. He barely looked up when she came in and sat down next to him. She leaned into him, to see what he was looking at so intently and once she saw it, said, “Oh crap,” while trying to take it away from him.
“Oh no you don’t, Mary T!” Jack held on tight to the laptop with one hand and fended her off with the other. “You left this document open, and I innocently looked at it when I opened the computer to go online. I’m halfway into the scene. You can’t make me stop now.”
She groaned, pulled her legs up tight against her chest, and leaned forward to hide her face in her knees. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I have left that chapter, of all chapters, open? The steamy love scene she was working on rushed through her mind. She groaned in embarrassment.
Tess started to get up. Jack’s arm came out to hold her in place. But she knew exactly what he was reading, and she couldn’t just sit there.
Jack absentmindedly dropped his arm, and she sprang up and out of the room, mumbling something about getting a drink. She was pouring sweet tea into two glasses when he joined her in the kitchen. He reached around her, took the pitcher, and set it on the opposite counter. He did the same with the two glasses and then gently turned Tess around to look at him.
“Tess, you never cease to amaze me,” he said, smiling down at her. “Here I thought you were this innocent, shy, genteel lady, and . . . you write erotica?”
Tess closed her eyes and dropped her head onto his chest. Her reply was muffled. “Not erotica. Romance. There’s a difference. You just happened upon the one chapter that…”
Jack put his hands on her sides and lifted her onto the counter behind her, standing between her legs. “Tess, look at me.”
She raised her head slightly and opened one eye.
“Come on, sweetheart, look at me,” he said, laughing. “Criminy, you are so dang hot. You’re a perfect mixture of beautiful lady and sexy woman.” That made Tess snort with a laugh of disbelief.
“Jack, I was going to tell you about my book. I didn’t want you to actually read it, though. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? I think it’s great. I think you’re great.” He dipped his head down to catch her lips. His hands ran up and down her back as he deepened the kiss. She groaned and pulled him closer.
“Come on.” He led her back to the den.
“You expectin’ any visitors tonight?” he asked, as they sat back on the couch. She smiled and shook her head.
“Any phone calls?”
Again her head moved side to side, her eyes locked on his.
They kissed a long, slow, deep kiss, then broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other. Jack kissed her forehead, her temple, her eyelid, her cheek, her top lip, her chin; finally his lips found hers again.
“Bar none,” she whispered against his lips, not realizing she’d said it out loud.
* * *
Tess woke up the next morning to find Jack’s arms around her. They had fallen asleep together on her couch, and she was wedged into the cushions. She squirmed a little, pushed her hand into his hair, and kissed his neck. His arms tightened around her.
“Oops, I slept over,” he said. “Mmm…what a nice way to wake up.” He moved to kiss her.
She broke the kiss and hugged him, her face resting on his shoulder. She came nose to nose with Ezzie.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked Jack, while looking at Ezzie, who was now trying to wedge her way to lie down between them.
“Esmerelda!” Jack scolded.
“I think she’s a little jealous, “ Tess said, laughing.
“Speaking of which…” Jack began. “Um . . . “
“Hmm?”
“Last night . . . did you . . . did you call me Vernon?”
“Call you, what?” she asked, snuggling into him as best she could with a dog between them.
“You know, before . . . it sounded like you called me…Vernon.”
Her eyes flew open. “I did?”
“You did. Want to tell me why you were whispering another man’s name? And who is Vernon?” he asked, smoothing her hair.
She looked up at him blankly. Then it dawned on her what he was talking about. She laughed and said, “Oh, Jack. I wasn’t calling you Vernon.” Hugging him close and resting her head on his shoulder, she explained, “I was thinking you’re the best…” she trailed off.
“The best what?”
“The best, you know, kisser, and…”
“There’s an and?”
“…the best everything. And I was thinking, ‘bar none.’ I must have said it out loud.” She was quiet for a minute while Jack took that in. Then she looked up at him and added, “But maybe from now on your nickname will be Vernon.”
Jack smiled as he caught her lips for another long kiss.
* * *
Later that morning, Tess and Jack sat in her kitchen eating homemade waffles. She was quiet and seemed preoccupied.
“Have I overstayed my welcome?” he asked.
“Hmm? Oh, no. Not at all. I’m sorry. I just keep thinking about Tank Marshall. Something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Jack laced his fingers through hers. “Lou knows now that we’ve been looking into her father’s murder. Tonight we’ll go over to her house with that key you found, and we’ll check out that trunk in the attic. How’s that sound?”
“Like a plan.”
* * *
Jack and Ezzie had walked to Tess’s house the previous night for dinner, so they walked her to work before they headed home. When they stepped onto the curb leading to the block with the bookstore, Jack pulled Tess over to the side of the building that housed the bank. She giggled, and said, “Vernon! What are you doing?”
He backed her up against the building, blocking her in with his arms on either side of her. He stood looking down at her so closely she couldn’t move. “Vernon, huh? You really think so?”
She looked into his eyes and her voice grew husky. “I really do.”
Just then, movement over Jack’s shoulder caught her attention, and she looked past him to find Buck staring at them from across the street. She cleared her throat and Jack stepped back, following her eyes. Buck walked over to them.
“Well knock me down and steal muh teeth!” Buck said loudly. “I had no idea y’all were so friendly.”
“It’s not exactly your business, now is it, Mayor?” Jack put his arm protectively around Tess. Ezzie barked her annoyance.
“Here I've been a wollerin' in sorriness, thinkin’ Mizz Tess here didn’t like me. It never occurred to me that she just took to somebody else. But there y’all are, big as daylight, smoochin’ on Main Street.”
“I guess we were just of a mind that those who know, know. Those who don’t know don’t need to know. And you didn’t need to know. But now you know, so, is there anything else we can do for ya today?” Jack asked with an insincere smile.
“Boy, you are actin’ crazier ‘n a sprayed roach. I guess that’s what love does to a fella. Well good for y’all. You just let me know if you get tired of him, Tess. Ya hear?” He winked at her and started off.
“Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up, Mayor,” Jack yelled. “And one thing’s for sure—she won’t ever call you Vernon!”
An Empty Bucket Makes The Most Racket
ahr: noun ar hour
It’s your bedtime in an ahr.
[ December 1935 ]
Nate Hunter came out of the safe deposit box area of the bank, and came to a sudden stop. He stepped back in surprise when he saw John Hobbs standing before him. “I thought you went home,” Nate said to John, with a guilty expression on his face. He hurriedly stuffed a wad of bills in his pockets.
“What are you doing, Nate?”
“It’s none of your business, John.” Nate brushed past him.
John followed his co-worker. “What did you just put in your pockets?”
Nate stopped and turned around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Nate, there’s something I’ve been wondering about for awhile now, and I need to know.” The two men looked at each other for a long moment. “Were you involved in the bank robbery?” John asked point-blank.
“You never were one for beating around the bush, were you, John?”
“Plain talk is easily understood,” John said. “You were—weren’t ya?”
Nate looked at John through squinted eyes and muttered through his tightly held mouth, “Say that again and you’ll rue it.”
“That doesn’t sound like the words of an innocent man.”
“John, if you love your family at all, you should keep your thoughts and questions to yourself.”
“Is that a threat?”
“You betcha.” Nate stood
up more erect and seemed taller and bigger, as if he’d been inflated. Then he let out a tired sigh. “Look, John, how ’bout I cut you in? I can’t give you much right now, but . . . “ he took a wad of bills out of his pocket. “How ‘bout two thousand now, and I’ll get you some more from the other guys. Think about it, two thousand will buy you a lot of shoes for them kids a yours.”
John thought about it. Two thousand would also be hard evidence of Nate’s guilt. He decided to string him along to see how much more information he could get out of him about the bank robbery. Catching one fish wasn’t as good as catching the whole school.
“Okay,” he said, keeping his voice even, “two thousand now and two from each of the other fellas. And I want to know who else was involved. And I also wanna know why you did this, Nate.”
“Simple. I needed the money. I’m on track to become president of the bank, John. But I gotta look the part before I become the part. I gotta look successful so they’ll take notice of me.”
“I see.”
“Two thousand now,” he counted out the bills and handed them to John, “and I’ll call ya this weekend and let you know when I can get ya the rest.”
John walked to his office. He stepped on a floorboard behind his desk and the board popped up. He put the money in the secret compartment in the floor, then sat down at his desk, took pen and paper out, and began to write.
[ July 2010 ]
Pickle had shied away from Lou and Tess all morning, busying himself with unpacking boxes of books. After working a few hours, he broke the boxes down and headed out the back door, carrying them to the dumpster in the alley to throw them away. Standing at the dumpster, the faint smell of Aqua Velva filled his nose and made his stomach lurch. He didn’t need to turn around to know he wasn’t alone in the alley.
“You done real good, boy,” Aqua Velva man said.
Pickle turned and saw the man just a few feet away, drawing on a cigarette. He looked down at his t-shirt that said, “Obey Gravity—it’s the law!”
