by DK Herman
"Hey Tim, your antifreeze is leakin!" I heard one of the boy’s yell, the rest erupting into laughter. Just as I reached for my cell, one if the store cashiers came outside, his phone to his ear.
Bending down, I picked up the gas cap. Then back in Chitty's driver’s seat, I dropped the gas cap into a cup holder in the middle console. I watched in my side mirror as two of the boys help red-pants to his feet, and jammed his hat back on his head. He still looked dazed but could stand with assistance.
I took off my sunglasses and laughed until my belly hurt. Karma may be a bitch, but she seemed to have a hell of a sense of humor!
Curious about what was new in town, I wanted to drive up Main Street. Then I remembered my family was waiting for me. So, I crossed lanes, and continued on route 11. After two miles, I saw our lane coming up on the right. I slowed Chitty and made the turn. The neighbor’s cows grazed in their field. After a hundred more feet, a flock of wild turkeys emerged from the hedgerow that lined the west side of our property. I let them cross before continuing. Crossing a small wooden bridge over a dry creek bed, my family's home started coming into view. I could see patches of mellowed red bricks through the trees.
I pulled into the wide driveway, stopping to admire the home where I grew up. It was a huge house, made of brick, and set off by white trim and a black roof. Two wings rose three stories, on both sides of the two-story main building. It had been built in 1870, by my great, great grandfather, Frederick James. He’d made a fortune in coal and steel. The home had been lovingly tended by each generation that lived their lives there.
Due to wise investments and management, the fortune Frederick had left his family, grew steadily over the years. When my grandfather passed away, he left Gram over ten million dollars. That was after the two million apiece, left to my father and aunt. When my parents died in a plane crash, their two million came to me. The same two million, my asshole ex-husband was enjoying life with now.
Taking a deep breath, I drove on towards the house. I pulled in near the brick, three car garage. I bounded out of Chitty and headed for the double front doors. Dogs barked somewhere in the house, reminding me of the warning Aunt Jeannie gave me, concerning a dog that bites. I stopped to admire new rose bushes along the sidewalk when I saw Gram waiting on the porch swing. I hurried up the steps and into her embrace.
"I've missed you so much, Sweetheart,” Gram said, blinking back happy tears.
"I've missed you, too." I hugged her until she pulled away.
"You've lost weight!” She declared before looking me over for more signs of self-neglect. "You were already thin. And what happened to your hair?"
"Gabi's going to fix me up tomorrow,” I assured her. “Want to come along?"
"She probably has plans with her boyfriend,” Aunt Jeannie teased, coming out the front doors. "I put the dogs out back, Mom. I don’t want Hallie getting bitten on her first day home." She looked at me and rolled her eyes. Aunt Jeannie didn’t hate animals, but she knew I wasn’t crazy about dogs. I didn’t hate them, I just had never spent any time around them.
I looked Gram over for an excuse to take her to the salon with me tomorrow. I was disappointed not to find anything, requiring Gabi's services. As a matter of fact, she looked fantastic! She had always taken care of herself but didn’t fuss since my pap died. Now, subtle makeup enhanced the facial features Aunt Jeannie and I inherited. The white hair that used to be chestnut brown, was cut into layers to her chin. Her nails were freshly manicured. Gram is much shorter than me and Aunt Jeannie but very fit for her age. She wore royal blue pedal pushers, a white silk blouse with dressy, flat heeled sandals. I even smelled a subtle perfume.
"Susan James!" I tried to sound like I was teasing. "Who is this guy?"
"He'll be here soon." She smiled dreamily. "I hope you like him."
"I'm sure she already knows him, Mom,” Aunt Jeannie said. She turned her head at the sound of a car coming down the lane.
Eagerly, Gram took a few steps off the porch while I sat down on the swing. I kicked off my flip flops. Sighing with pleasure, I wiggled my toes and stretched. Aunt Jeannie leaned against the porch railing, watching Gram wait for her Beau to arrive. She turned with a big smile on her face and winked at me. It was nice that Aunt Jeannie liked Gram’s friend, but I wasn’t so sure I would.
"What's this George's last name?" I asked.
"Murphy,” Gram answered over her shoulder. "He was a school teacher for over forty years."
I sucked in air. "Not my tenth-grade health teacher?"
My aunt nodded.
"He taught Sex Ed!" I hissed vehemently. "They're not fooling around, are they?"
Aunt Jeannie laughed but kept her voice down. "I doubt it. Mom can be old fashioned about those things. But they are together constantly, except at night. Aunt Jeannie gave me her, “behave yourself,” look. "She's happy, and he's a nice man, Hallie. Give him a chance."
"I will,” I said, rolling my eyes. Not wanting to deal with Gram and her boyfriend yet, I got up, leaving my flip flops and headed for the front door. "I'm going in to see Liv and get something to drink."
"Coward,” She whispered as I passed her.
The kitchen smelled like Liv was cooking something delicious. She sat in the middle of the large room on her padded stool, a potholder in her hand. Her portable TV was on the counter in front of her, and she was watching a Charlie's Angels rerun. She didn't notice me until I put a hand on her shoulder.
"Hallie!" She turned the TV down. "I’m so glad your back, honey." She got up from the stool to hug me.
"What's cooking, Liv. It smells like a dieter’s worst nightmare in here."
"Oh, you!” She chuckled.
Diet was a dirty word in her kitchen. She loved to cook and loved to eat. It showed, but plump suited her, and I couldn't imagine her any other way.
"You just wait and see what I made you. I see, I need to fatten you up some."
"Not a problem with your cooking."
Liv, was my grandfather's cousin. Years ago, before Pap died, Liv lost her husband and two little boys in a car accident. Not wanting her to be alone after the tragedy, Pap and Gram asked her to come and live with us. She did, but insisted on doing all the cooking. One taste and we all agreed with her, helping her in the kitchen when she allowed it.
There was always help with cleaning. Gram hired local people who needed work and payed them well. Besides cooking, Liv also liked to supervise "the girls" when they arrived to clean, three days a week. The huge house was always well organized and spotless under Liv’s watchful eye.
I got my tea, swilling half the glass. I noticed two big bags of corn on the counter. “Is this for the picnic?” I asked. Liv nodded, so I started shucking.
"Tell me everything, what's this George like?" I sounded pussy but couldn’t help it. I had a recent lesson about men. They could be liars, users, and thieves. I wouldn’t allow Gram to be hurt and humiliated like I was.
"I like him a lot, and he's good to Susie. You'll see, honey." Liv got up from her stool. "Your Gram's been alone for a long time. She deserves happiness again before her times up."
Nodding, I picked up another ear of corn. "Turn the Angels back up," I said with a sigh.
We watched for a few minutes in silence while I worked on the corn
"Your Gram will be right in, with George." Aunt Jeannie came into the room and grabbed an ear of corn. "Be... nice." She shook her finger at me.
"He musta got the muffler on his Caddy fixed," Liv said. She bent over to peek in the oven.
"Caddy,” I repeated. I had to resist the urge to giggle, remembering the man at the Gas and Shop.
Gram walked into the room and I gasped. She was holding the hand of a grey-haired man in a green shirt and white hat. It was indeed George Murphy, or G.I. George as the kids in school had called him. He was also the man whose gas cap rested in Chitty's console.
He’d been a good teacher, and other than being told to sit up straight, I’d never
had any problems with Mr. Murphy. A lot of the kids didn't like him because he had a thing for posture and following rules. It was said he served time in the military, during the Vietnam War.
"Hallie," Gram said, "this is George."
George put his hand out, and I shook it
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Murphy." I studied his face for any sign he knew, I’d witnessed the altercation at the gas pumps. But he gave no sign that he’d seen me in years. I decided not to bring it up. It wasn’t his fault, and even though they didn’t harass me much, I’d wanted to give the punks a face full of pepper spray.
"Great to see you, Hallie. But please, call me George." He gave me a friendly smile.
I started to smile back, but a thought came out of my mouth instead. "Aren't you married?"
"My wife passed away, two years ago,” he said. "Breast cancer."
"I'm so sorry." I really was. And I felt like an ass for bringing it up.
It was silent in the room, either out of respect for George’s loss, or they were all thinking that I was an ass, too.
Finally, Gram saved the moment. "Hallie, come out on the patio with us and meet the dogs."
The dogs didn't live here until January of this year. Aunt Jeannie told me about them, that day at the camp ground. They’d belonged to one of the cleaning girls, who decided to move in with her boyfriend. The boyfriend discovered he was allergic to dogs, and she had to rehome them. Gram really liked them, and they were good for security. She had a fence put up, enclosing a huge area, all the way to the woods in the back yard. It was convenient to let them out the back door for a run or a poop.
I followed Gram outside, looking around nervously. "Aunt Jeannie told me one of the them bites.”
"Rupert,” Gram said. "He has aggression issues. I have a trainer working with him, but he still bullies the other dogs."
I sat down at one of the tables, set up for the picnic. "What kind if dogs are they?" I asked, nervously keeping an eye out for Rupert.
"Well, Princess is pure pit-bull terrier, Buddy is a pit-bull lab mix, and …”
That was all she got out before two dogs ran around the corner of the house, heading straight for me. One with a huge, white head, and brown circles around both eyes, I recognized as the pit-bull. The other was similar in shape and size but had an all dark coat, except its chest and front paws. They barked furiously, still galloping towards us.
"Shit,” I gasped. I didn't know what to do or where to run.
"Relax, dear," Gram said, "those two, won't hurt you."
"The other one might.” George came outside with the bags of unshucked corn. “You’d better watch Rupert around Hallie until he gets used to her. He’s nailed me twice.”
The two dogs slowed to a walk a few feet away from me, tails wagging, noses sniffing. I sat perfectly still, forgetting to breath until the pit-bull put her muzzle under my hand and flipped it onto her head. The other dog licked my face before sitting at my feet, offering me a paw.
"They want to be petted,” Gram assured me.
So, I did, keeping alert for the hellhound, yet to be seen. Finally, I heard paws running, lighter this time and a strange high pitched bark. I wondered if the beast had a cold.
When I saw it, I thought it was a cat. If this was Rupert, it was hard to tell his breed. He was dark brown with a longish body and less than a foot high. He had the cute, furry face of a teddy bear and brown button eyes. He was too small to fear, and he was adorable. His short tail wagged in circles as he stood at Gram’s feet. Then he turned and looked at me.
The adorable thought went out the window. Snarling, he lunged at me. He furiously tried to bite my legs, but he couldn't open his mouth far enough. All he inflicted were a few light scratches with his front teeth. The other dogs had gotten out of his way and were cowering under a bench.
I started to laugh at the situation, wanting to be a good sport. But then the little jerk had my big toe in his mouth, biting down and furiously shaking my whole leg. "Son of a..... let go you mongrel. Help!" Rupert wasn’t letting go of me. I bent down to pull him off my toe.
"Don't put your hands near him, Hallie. If he can get your fingers into his mouth, you might lose em,” George said.
“What about my toes? I need them, too,” I squeaked.
“That's a bad boy, Rupert. Bad dog!" Gram scolded the dog. Then reaching down, she scooped him up. Rupert licked her face and wriggled happily in her arms.
"You might want to wear shoes around him,” George suggested, calmly working on the corn.
I sat down across from George and examined the damage to my toe. "Thanks for the advice," I said dryly.
"Anytime." He grinned warmly.
I smiled back. Maybe I'd like George after all. "I'll go put some on. Be right back."
I headed out to Chitty and let myself in the side door. Digging around, I found some sneakers. Shoving my feet into them, I started back out the door. George had parked his Caddy on this side of my RV. I could see the fuel door was still hanging open, gas cap missing. Climbing back inside Chitty, I grabbed the gas cap off the console. Making sure no one saw me, I put it where it belonged. Then I went back to the patio and helped George finish the corn.
My friends arrived an hour later. They fussed over two of the dogs. Rupert had been banished to Gram’s rooms, for the duration of the picnic.
Before we ate, Doc, Gabi, and George helped me take some of my things up to my rooms in the house. Gram had decided that my old bedroom wasn't big enough, so she talked me into using my parents’ suite. I would be the only occupant in the western wing of the house. The suite had a nice sitting room with a mountain stone fireplace and a huge bedroom. No wonder they hadn't let me use these rooms as a teenager. How much of a punishment would it have been to get sent to these rooms!
The sitting room was gorgeous. It had been recently furnished with a 60-inch flat screen TV, a sectional sofa, and walnut coffee and end tables. Two cozy reclining chairs by the fireplace would beckon on a cold or rainy day. There was even my own microwave oven, on a walnut sideboard, next to a small refrigerator.
Inside the bedroom, the furniture was the same that my parents had used. The queen-sized sleigh bed, double night stands, a dresser, wardrobe, and my mother’s make up table, were all made from dark walnut. Like the sitting room, all the fabrics and walls were a relaxing sage green with peach accent's. The hardwood floors had strategically scattered throw rugs in the same colors. A set of sliding doors, led to a balcony that looked out over the swimming pool, lawn, and the woods.
Behind another door was my bathroom. It was huge, with double sinks, a corner shower, and a garden tub! How I had missed having a tub, yet one big enough to float the seventh fleet. I finished admiring my bathroom and went back down to Chitty for another load.
I returned to my bedroom and placed a few things on the bed. I gingerly took a box from George that he’d almost dropped.
"What's in the box?" Gabi asked slyly. "It's locked. Is it your diary or... sex toys, perhaps?" She waggled her eyebrows.
"Goof." I gave her a playful shove. "It’s some of my work gear." I took the lock box into the walk-in closet and put it on a shelf.
"Ooh, let’s see." Doc sounded interested, but I didn't like anyone else handling these items. They weren’t toys.
"Another time, OK?" I shut the closet door. "Gram's waiting on us to eat."
"What's work gear?” Gabi persisted.
" My gun, ammo, taser, stun gun, and pepper spray." I saw George's eyebrows shoot up, so I explained. "I was... well still am, a private investigator. My license is still valid."
“Isn’t a taser and a stun gun the same thing?” George asked with genuine interest.
“No. A taser shoots two metal darts from a distance, to deliver voltage to a target. With a stun gun, you must be close enough to press the prongs against the target.”
"Got any handcuffs?" Gabi giggled.
"Yes, I do. And no, you can't borrow them,” I said, clos
ing the closet door.
"What makes you think I wanted to borrow them!" Gabi protested.
"Everybody knows that you’re a sex fiend,” Doc said. She was checking out my computer equipment, I had left on the dresser.
“I’m not a sex fiend,” Gabi objected.
“Oh, really. Hey Hallie, did you hear Gabi was at the emergency room last month with a concussion?” Doc grinned.
“Doc, shut up!” Gabi exclaimed.
“She fell off her bed trying a new sex position called the backwards, drunken cowgirl,” Doc said, and we burst into laughter.
“Now I know, never wear my cowboy boots with satin sheets,” Gabi said indignantly.
"I think I heard Susie calling me." George turned bright red and left the room.
“He never blushed in Sex Ed,” I mumbled to myself.
“Oh, Yeah!" Gabi said, changing the subject.” Somebody else to help me with tech support. Doc can be such a bitch when I don't understand what she's saying."
"Which is always." Doc rolled her eyes. "When's food, Hal? I'm starved."
"Let's go see. We’ve got enough done for now." I led the way downstairs.
The picnic was wonderful. Everyone ate their fill of burgers, hotdogs, pulled pork, sauerkraut, baked beans, mac and cheese, pickled eggs, cole slaw, potato salad and corn on the cob. Dessert was bread pudding and whoopie pies. Liv was glowing with all the compliments.
I was impressed, watching Gram and George together. He was so attentive and caring that I was a little jealous, I'd never found a man like him. They were obviously in love, and Gram looked so happy. To my surprise, I very much approved.
The day was warm but not humid. Cicadas buzzed in the distance while crows in the tree line cawed. Under the cloudless, blue sky, George and Gram were beating Doc and Troy in a game of horseshoes. Gabi and I were soaking up some sun, dabbling our feet in the deep end of the pool. My left toe ached a little from Rupert chewing on it, but Gram said the little beast had all his shots.
"Wear something nice tomorrow," Gabi said. We watched our groundskeeper walk toward the vegetable garden.
Peter had been around since before I was born. Pap had been friends with Peter’s, father and gave Peter the job as a favor. Peter turned out to be loyal and hardworking but was standoffish with the family. He was tall and thin, and he seemed to wear the same pocket tee shirt and jeans year-round. He topped the tee shirt with a flannel shirt in cold weather. His hair looked the same as it did thirty years ago, reddish brown, shaggy, and shoulder length. I suspected he cut it himself with dull scissors.
