Pounding came to the front door of the office. “Oh, good. I bet that’s her now.”
I slipped through the door that connected the quarters to the office and padded barefoot, an apology forming in my head for Ludi. But through the glass I saw it wasn’t Ludi, but Peter. Straw hat and all. Shoulders slumping and heat creeping to my face, I opened the door.
“Morning, ma’am.” He tipped his hat.
“Morning, yourself. Sorry about my appearance, it’s been a rough morning.”
“My apologies for interrupting.” He cleared his throat. “I saw your friend’s Caddy pull out so thought it okay to bother you. I have the list of supplies for the lumberyard. Do you want me to accompany you while you place the order? I’m…”
He must have noticed the dumbfounded look on my face. Me in my bathrobe, my hair so messy a sparrow might mistake it for a fire bush. And all I could do was stare at him.
“So sorry, ma’am. I didn’t realize—”
The school bus driver let out a long toot on his horn on the highway. Brushing past Peter in the doorway, I stepped out on the porch and waved the bus on. Sebastian sidled up to me, sniffed my robe, which hung open, and slurped my hand. I jerked away and pulled my robe tight around me. Peter at once snapped his fingers, and Sebastian went to his side.
“So sorry, ma’am. I… guess I didn’t know what time… What say I come back later? There’s other work I can do in the meantime.”
“No, it’s fine. Just one thing. Please stop calling me ma’am. Call me Georgia or hey you, but no more of this ma’am this and ma’am that.”
“Yes, ma’am. No problem.”
I glared at him.
“All right. Georgia. And like I told you yesterday, Peter’s my given name.”
“Fine. Now give me a few minutes to get organized and we’ll go to the lumberyard. I’ll introduce you to Miller, the manager down there, and see about getting you on my account so you can order things as you need them. No sense in my having to approve every nail and shingle or piece of wood you need.”
And before he had time to answer I went in, threw on my clothes, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. It would have to do for now.
“Come on, girls, we have errands to run. Rosey, bring the cold rag for your face if you think you need it. I’ll leave a note for Ludi.” I ran to the office to get a pen and paper and then remembered—Ludi couldn’t read or write. A profanity was on the tip of my tongue. I threw the pen down, the rigors of the morning plowing into me with more force than a freight train.
Whatever possessed me to think I could pull off a stunt like running a tourist court? No money. No experience. Certainly no brains. And at the moment I was so tired, all I wanted to do was crawl back in bed and sleep for a month. The world would march on by with its disease-crippled victims and poor people who never learned the simple delight of scribbling a grocery list or writing their name at the top of a school paper. Even sad sacks like Mary Frances, who thought the answers to emptiness were found in the bottom of a liquor bottle. Maybe God wasn’t looking out for the unfortunate after all.
I closed my eyes, a silent prayer on my lips, a surge of determination taking the wheel. There was nothing a few deep breaths, a decent cup of coffee, and the power of the Holy Ghost couldn’t fix. And right now, I was in desperate need of all three.
I looked up. Avril and Rosey looked at me as if I were a Martian from outer space. Behind them, Peter Reese, whose blue eyes held the calm of a lake on a summer’s day, spoke. “Pardon me for saying so, Georgia, but it looks to me like you could use a strong cup of coffee. If you’re ready to go, I’m buying.”
[ CHAPTER 16 ]
Merciful Harper sat on the doorstep when we got back from the lumberyard.
“Morning, Merciful. Did you come with your momma?”
She hung her head, looked at me with the tops of her eyes. “No, ma’am. Maw can’t make it. She sent me and my stinkbug brother.”
“Catfish, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, but he don’ want to show his face, so he’s waiting ’round back. Maw says she’s sorry, she feels terrible bad knowing you gots a lot to do.” She stood up tall. “I’m a good worker, though.”
“Is your mother ill?”
“No, ma’am. Mamey is.” She clenched her jaw, no explanation forthcoming.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is Mamey your grandmother?”
She nodded, tears forming in her inky eyes, and I could tell she was trying to keep her composure. I offered her my hand. “I think it’s time I met this brother of yours. Around back, you say?”
Catfish stood a couple of inches taller than Merciful, was barefoot like his sister, legs as thin as a tree branch from what I could see below his rolled-up britches.
“You must be Catfish. I’m Georgia. Happy to meet you.”
I held out my hand, but he kept his shoved in his pockets, his eyes downcast and looking from one side to the next.
Merciful popped him on the arm. “Mind your manners, stinkbug. Miz Georgia wants to shake your hand.”
Slowly, he pulled a hand from his pocket, extended it. Sort of. I shook it and told him I was glad to meet him.
“Your momma’s told me you’re the fisherman in the family.”
“That’s what I be fixin’ to do today, but they wanted me and Merciful to hightail it outta there.”
“And why’s that?”
“You tell her, punkin’ face.”
I smiled to myself. Merciful, as cute as she was, had a face the same shape as a pumpkin. Extraround cheeks and a snaggletoothed grin where she’d lost a couple of baby teeth. But it was a scowl on her face, not a jack-o’-lantern smile.
“Miz Georgia don’ want to know ’bout our troubles.” She stuck out her tongue at her brother, and then I did laugh. Rosey and Avril acted the same way sometimes.
I looked at each of them in turn. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Catfish looked at the ground and kicked at the dirt. “They’s cutting off her leg today. Don’t want us around.”
A shiver raced through me. “Who? Your grandmother?”
Through pinched lips Merciful said, “Mamey’s got the sugar sickness. Maw said it be best if Catfish and me get on down here and not be hanging around when they saw off the leg. It ’bout made me sick the last time.”
My head felt woozy, too, at the thought. “The last time?”
“Mamey’s other leg. She got the sugar bad.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know more, but I put my arm around Merciful’s shoulder and offered my other hand to Catfish. “I’m sorry about your grandmother, and your momma is right. I can use a world of help today. Catfish, there’s someone I want you to meet. You’ll be Mr. Reese’s right-hand man while Merciful helps me.”
Handing Catfish off to Peter was the coward’s way out for me. In the few short minutes I was with Ludi’s son, all I could think was that he was the one who found O’Dell. He was nothing more than a child. Ten or so, I guessed. And from what I knew of the condition of O’Dell’s body when he washed up, it must’ve been a shock of biblical proportions. Chances were Catfish was trying to forget as desperately as I was, and I was sure Peter would welcome the help.
Merciful was delighted when I asked her to watch the girls for the afternoon. The three of them skipped off to pick wildflowers and look for butterflies. I made a quick call to the hospital to check on Mary Frances, relieved when the nurse told me she was resting like a lamb.
“Glad to hear it. Please tell her I’ll be by in the morning to check on her, but if she needs anything, please call.” I gave her the number, changed into one of O’Dell’s old shirts and a pair of baggy pants, then went off to paint the cottage I’d picked out for Mary Frances. As I rolled on the paint, I let various conversations and arguments with Mary Frances about her love of gin and the way it was destroying her life keep me company.
By five o’clock I’d finished the room and went to check on the girls,
who were now playing dolls with Merciful. Peter and Catfish were both on their knees atop cottage one, Peter hammering the shingles Catfish passed him. They’d taken to each other like flies to honey, it seemed, their motions smooth and synchronized.
Parched, and knowing Peter and Catfish must be, too, I went in to make some sweet tea. I’d just put the kettle on to heat when Aunt Cora called.
“I’ll get right to the point.”
I flinched, regretting already that I hadn’t called her to tell her about Mary Frances. “Please do. But first, let me apologize.”
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it? Half the town knows you’ve got some stranger sporting around town with you, buying you coffee, pretending to be some construction foreman or such. What in the world has gotten into you?”
“Wait. First of all, I’m not sure what you heard. I’ve hired a handyman to put new roofs on the cottages, not some pretty-boy escort. I tried to get local help, and they’re all booked. If I waited, I wouldn’t be able to get the Stardust open by Memorial Day. And you know what they say, time is money, so I considered it providential when Cecil at the repair shop sent Mr. Reese to help out. He’ll only be here temporarily.”
“You asked for references, of course.”
“He seemed decent. Kind and not pushy. He acts like he knows his business.”
“The whole situation you’ve let yourself in for is disheartening, Georgia. Why, oh why, won’t you listen to reason? The Stardust is going to suck you dry financially and physically. You’re putting the girls and yourself into harm’s way, mark my words.”
“We could always move in with you. Of course, we’d have to bring Mary Frances along.”
“Don’t say I didn’t offer. But speaking of your momma-in-law, I took her a bouquet today, thinking I might see you there. She said you’d not been by at all. Poor thing’s aged ten years overnight. It might be wise to use her insurance money and put her in the rest home. So tragic.”
“I could never do that. And I did call to check on her. Stayed with her till half past midnight last night. Truth is, I’m going to talk to Dr. Kelley tomorrow about having her stay out here until she gets her strength back.”
She gave a soft snort. “The fixes you get yourself into.”
“Well, it’s not like I had a choice in this. Don’t worry, we’re all going to be fine. Really. Tell me, how did the rally go last night?”
“Not as well as we hoped, but we plan to have a booth at the Mayhaw Festival. And we’ll keep the donation jars out around town. The goal is to raise enough money to have an iron lung in every county in Texas. A half-dozen new cases were reported in Tyler in the last week alone. They’re scrambling over there to turn one wing of the hospital into a respiratory ward.”
“Did you hear about Hud Cotton’s cousin? She’s down in Houston in an iron lung.”
“I’d heard a rumor but didn’t know if it was true.”
“Sally and Hud left earlier today to be with the family. His cousin’s child is still recovering. I didn’t know it was so contagious.”
“It appears so the way it breaks out some places more than others. Praise be, Musgrave County hasn’t been touched.”
“Aunt Cora, I know we don’t always agree on things, but I’m proud of what you’re doing. And I’ll make sure you get the money for Rosey singing at the rally.”
“Don’t worry. I already put in ten dollars with her name on it.”
“Oh, my. You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I’d give anything to ensure one of your girls doesn’t end up on a poster.”
“Me, too, Aunt Cora. Me, too.”
By the time I made the tea and took it out, the hammering had stopped and Peter and Catfish were no longer on the roof nor anywhere that I could see. I asked the girls if they’d seen them.
Merciful answered. “They’s probably out back washing up where the spigot be.”
I wasn’t aware of the spigot in the back, only the one at each end of the cottages where we hooked up the garden hoses. As I went looking, I heard Catfish talking, his high-pitched voice running as quick as anything.
“I thought a whale done spit a body out of the water up on the riverbank, just like Jonah in the Good Book. ’Cept it was big and fat, eyes bugging out like a bullfrog, lookin’ like if’n you stuck in a pin, it would pop.”
Nausea hit me like floodwaters, and I stepped in the shadows between two of the cottages. Catfish was talking about O’Dell, telling Peter of his conquest like he’d been on a Lewis and Clark expedition. Another wave of bile and disgust rose up, my head swimming. I was afraid to take another step or even breathe, mortified that Catfish would catch me eavesdropping.
“Was the worse thing I ever saw.” His voice was choked with emotion, holding back sobs, not bragging as I’d thought.
I wanted to run, but my feet felt like they’d been driven into the ground with spikes. Peter spoke softly, words I couldn’t make out. I felt clammy and hot and disgusted all at the same time. Of course I knew O’Dell’s body was in a state of decomposing. Mr. Garvey at the funeral home had told me as much. Without the detail, of course. At the time I’d thought it only fitting since I felt murderous toward O’Dell for leaving us the way he did. I had no idea it had been so grotesque.
Collecting myself enough to move, I turned to go back to the office, but Peter called out behind me. “Say, Georgia, you looking for us?”
I turned and smiled. “Oh, here you are. I was bringing you and Catfish a spot of tea. If you’re thirsty, that is.”
“Plumb parched.” He winked at Catfish. “How about you, care for a glass of Miss Georgia’s sweet tea? I do believe it’s the best I ever had.”
Catfish sniffed, wiped a hand across his eyes, and in a thin voice said, “No, thank you. If it’s all right, I’m goin’ on home now.”
I couldn’t let him leave torn up like he was. I handed Peter the tea glasses and put my hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Catfish, I know you feel bad. I heard you talking. The man you found was my husband. If you hadn’t stumbled on him, we wouldn’t have known what happened.”
He fixed his eyes on the ground. “I didn’t know it be yo’ man.”
“Sometimes bad things happen. You were very brave that day.”
His chin lifted. “Maw say it be the right thing.”
“Yes, it was. Now, would you like some tea?”
He shook his head and scurried away, calling for Merciful as he ran by the washhouse. The two of them flew like panthers across the field toward Zion.
Peter leaned against the cottage and took a long, slow drink. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and handed me the glass. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“I feel bad for Catfish. I only hope he doesn’t have nightmares the way I still do.”
“I can only imagine. Again, I offer my condolences about your husband.”
“Thanks. I hope I didn’t scare your helper away.”
“I have a feeling he’ll be back. He’s quite a kid.”
“Come on up to the office in an hour. I’ll have a supper plate for you.” I turned to go but remembered the new roof. I hollered over my shoulder. “Good job up there, Mr. Reese.”
Behind me, he muttered, “Peter’s the name, Miz Peyton.”
[ CHAPTER 17 ]
Two days later I picked Mary Frances up from the hospital and took her to the Mercantile for new clothes and to Lovey’s Rexall Drug for toiletries. When we emerged, she eyed Ralph’s liquor store, but I took her elbow and gently guided her to the Ford.
She sat arms crossed, a scowl on her face, when I took the driver’s seat. “I’m an adult, perfectly capable of making my own decisions.” Her chin trembled.
I backed the car from the parking spot, hands tight on the wheel. “You know what Doc said. Alcohol is strictly forbidden with your medication.”
“A touch of gin would give me a great deal more pleasure than swallowing those nerve pills he prescribed.”
&nbs
p; “I think you should try and tough it out. For Rosey and Avril, if nothing else.”
“It’s not what you think, Georgia.”
“What?”
“The fire.”
“What do you mean?”
She fidgeted in her seat like she had a hitch in her new underpants. “You assume I was intoxicated.”
“I didn’t say that.” Of course, I thought it! But no matter how I turned it over in my head, I had plenty of my own guilt for pretending her drinking wasn’t a problem. Mercy, I’d even helped her get the gin more than once.
“Why not call a spade a spade. It was my fault. But it wasn’t like you think.”
Her face softened, a look I hadn’t seen since she’d first held Rosey in her arms. The worry lines melted, and her eyes took on a faraway look.
I said, “The only thing that matters is that you made it out. Now we’ll concentrate on getting you better and decide what you want to do next.”
Her jaw tensed. “Just let me say it while I have the nerve. The fire was my fault, but it was an accident.”
“No one has said otherwise.”
“I was wanting a drink real bad, but whether you realize it or not, I was trying to quit the bottle. I’d cut way back and ran out a couple days before. I was getting pretty shaky, but I kept thinking about what you said about I ought to get out, get a job.”
“And you still can. I’m proud that you were trying to quit.” I gripped the steering wheel, unsure of her new tactics. Maybe she had more smoke damage than Doc thought.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, bein’s no one comes around to see me anymore.”
Ouch!
“I was thinking of taking a little trip, maybe going down to see Bertha.” She let out a hacking cough into her fist. “Stupid fire’s clogged my lungs.”
“Go on. I’m listening.”
“It doesn’t matter now. My home is a pile of ashes, and right now, what I really need is a drink.”
“Probably not a great idea.”
“I know it’s not, but I’m trying to tell you what happened. I was back in the bedroom looking for the map to see how far it was to Corsicana. I thought I might take the bus, and while I was looking, I found a picture album of O’Dell when he was a tyke. It was during the Depression, you know, and we didn’t have two nickels to rub together, but there was O’Dell smiling and laughing, pulling a little wagon. I was on my own little trip back in time when I smelled the smoke. I admit, I must’ve left a cigarette burning in the ashtray—it’s the only thing I can figure out. But the smoke was already so thick I couldn’t see a thing. I ran out, and then I thought, well, why in tarnation didn’t I get that picture album? I ran back in with my hand over my face, but I was too late. The next thing I know is I’ve got a mask over my face and people all around me.”
Stardust: A Novel Page 10
