by Sharon Sala
Her next stop was Mills Locks, next door to Bloomer’s Hardware, so she drove back up Main, then parked in front of the shop.
Cecil Mills was making a new key for a customer when Cora entered the shop.
“Morning, Cora. I’ll be right with you,” Cecil said.
Cora nodded, then stood aside to wait her turn. A few minutes later, the customer was gone, and Cecil slapped his hands on the counter and smiled.
“Good to see you, girl! What can I do for you?”
Cora lifted her chin. “I need you to come put new locks on all my doors.”
“Sure thing. When do you need this done?” he asked.
“As soon as possible, please.”
Cecil glanced up at the clock. “Let me call my wife to come watch the shop for me, and I’ll be there within the next thirty minutes or so, okay?”
“Yes, perfect,” Cora said. “I’m on the way home now.”
“Then I’ll see you soon,” Cecil said, and was already on the phone as Cora walked out.
Once more, she was back in her car. She drove away, the sense of loss for what she was doing becoming real. Her eyes filled with tears she tried to blink away, but this time they were stronger than her intent to ignore.
By the time they were running down her face, she was trembling. She made it all the way home and got into the house before she came undone. Tears turned into sobs, and the trembling sent her to her knees.
And the only thing going through her mind was wondering if this was how Billie Jo James felt when she gave up all ties to home and family for the love of her son.
The irony of what was happening now was not lost on Cora. That same boy had become a man and had returned out of love for the family they’d left behind. Only this time, the family falling apart was Cora’s own.
She covered her face with her hands, remembering something her mother used to say: That which you give out in life will come back to you a hundredfold.
And then her phone began to ring. She crawled to her feet to get the phone and was so upset she didn’t think to look at caller ID.
“Hello.”
“Cora, it’s me, Jud. Don’t hang up. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Us.”
“There is no more us. I filed for divorce today and divided up the money in our checking account and savings account. I didn’t touch the money from when we sold the store. I have my own account now, and the rest is yours.”
Jud was sitting on the corner of the bed, staring down at the floor, listening to his life falling apart.
“So there’s nothing I can say?” he asked.
“Not to me. Your sons might have something different to say about the yellow stripe running up your back.”
Jud inhaled sharply. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, you’re the one who wouldn’t let that stupid feud die. You’re the one who raised our sons to hate the James family. You got them and a grandson in trouble, and then you took off out of Blessings like a scalded cat. You’re a fake, Jud Boone. You’re all about family honor, yet you have none. Don’t call me ever again.”
She disconnected, then went to wash her face. Cecil Mills would be here any minute, and she didn’t want him to know she’d been crying.
Her phone rang again, but she ignored it. Then it rang again just as Cecil was pulling up to the house. Maybe she needed a new phone number.
Cecil knocked on her door. She heard it from the bathroom and went to let him in.
“Come in, Cecil. I sure appreciate you doing this on such short notice.”
“My jobs are always short notice, Cora. Nobody calls me unless they’re locked out of their house or their car.”
She smiled. “Oh. Well, of course. I never thought of it like that. So what I need are new locks put on both doors. The front one here, and the one in the kitchen that goes out to the backyard.”
“Will do. How many keys do you want made?” he asked.
“Two for each door. One to carry. One to hide.”
Cecil had heard the Boones were having trouble, but it appeared to be more than trouble if Cora was, for all intents and purposes, locking her husband out of the house.
“Okay. It won’t take long, and I make the keys right out in my truck.”
“Good,” Cora said. “I have to go downtown again this afternoon to get some papers signed. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. I want to start a pot of beans cooking.”
* * *
Bowie had just overseen the delivery of a port-a-potty and had it set up behind the house to accommodate the neighbors’ sensibilities. He had just walked in through the back door when Matt met him in the hall.
“Uh, Boss, you need to come see this.”
“What’s wrong?” Bowie asked as he followed Matt into one of the bedrooms.
“I was tearing out the rest of that lathe and plaster wall and found this,” he said, handing Bowie a pink leather-bound book. “Wasn’t your mama’s name Billie?”
The hair crawled on the back of Bowie’s neck when he saw his mother’s name embossed in faded gold lettering.
“Yes. You said it was behind the wall?”
“Right here,” Matt said, pointing.
Bowie stood there a moment, then walked out and into the bathroom next door and opened the linen closet. It didn’t take long for him to find a loose board at the back of a shelf, and when he pulled it out, he could see straight into the bedroom.
“She put it in from here,” Bowie said.
“Well, I’ll be. I didn’t think about that.”
Bowie shrugged. “I had the advantage, since I grew up here. Thanks for this. I better put it in the car.”
He went out and unlocked the car door, dropped the journal in the driver’s seat, and locked his car on the way back to the house.
For the next hour, Bowie, Samuel, and Matt tore out lathe and plaster walls, while Ray, Joe, and Presley pulled down drywall from the ceilings.
With every piece of the old house that came down, Bowie was removing another piece of the past.
It was beginning to feel like a good thing.
It was almost noon when he glanced at the time and went to look for his notebook. He tore out a blank page and called the crew together.
“We’re all too dirty to go eat anywhere, but I’ll gladly spring for lunch from Granny’s if you’ll write down what you want to eat. I’ll call it in, then go pick it up when I stop by to check on my girls.”
“That’s a deal I won’t turn down,” Ray said. “And the front porch is shady now. If someone would just turn up the volume on that stingy-ass breeze, we’d be good to go.”
They laughed, agreeing they’d all appreciate a stiff breeze, as they wrote down their orders. They went back to work, and Bowie headed for the car.
He picked up the pink journal so he could sit down and then started the car so the air conditioner could begin cooling off the sweltering interior.
The journal was an unexpected find. He flipped through a couple of pages but didn’t read them. From the date on the first page, it was obvious she’d had this since before he was born. He laid it aside, called in the orders, then headed to the trailer park.
When he pulled up to his home and parked, he noticed Frank and Jewel were noticeably absent from the front yard, and their truck was gone.
He grabbed the pink journal as he got out, hoping this discovery wasn’t going to upset Gran. He had the door key in his hand when the door swung inward.
“I thought I heard your car!” Ella said. “What a nice surprise. Are you going to eat lunch with us?”
A wave of cool air washed over him as he stepped over the threshold. Rowan was at the stove frying bacon, and from the looks of the sliced tomatoes and lettuce, he guessed it was for BLTs.
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br /> “No, I’m going to pick up lunch for the guys, but I wanted to come by and show you something we found in the house.”
Rowan flashed a smile. “Are you sure you can’t stay? It wouldn’t take long to fry a few more strips for you.”
“I wish,” Bowie said. “It all smells great. Where’s Gran?”
“I’m right here,” Pearl said as she came out of the bedroom.
Bowie gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come sit down with me,” he said, and led the way to the sofa.
Gran frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but I have a surprise. We were taking down the lathe and plaster walls in the bedroom that used to belong to Mom, and we found this in the wall. I haven’t looked in it. Not sure I even want to.”
He laid the journal in Pearl’s lap, and when he saw tears roll down her cheeks, he hugged her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you cry.”
“How on earth did she get this in the wall?” Pearl asked.
“I figured that out. It was from the bathroom side. I found a loose board all the way in the back of one shelf in the linen closet. She was hiding it in there, but when we took out the wall on the other side, it fell out.”
Ella sat down on the sofa with her mother. “Oh, Mama. Don’t be sad. It’ll almost be like getting to talk to Billie again.”
Rowan had taken the last of the bacon out of the skillet and turned off the burner. She was wearing an old pair of shorts from Goodwill and yet another oversize T-shirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and when she dropped onto the floor at Pearl’s feet, Pearl reached out and patted her head.
“Sweet girl. What would Ella and I do without you,” Pearl said, and then clutched the journal to her breast.
“Aren’t you going to open it, Mama?” Ella asked.
“Not this instant,” Pearl said. “We’re gonna go make our sandwiches, pour up some of that good sweet tea, and relax. We can look at this later.”
Bowie was relieved. Granted she hadn’t had a chance to pass judgment on what was inside, but at least it hadn’t thrown her into a tailspin.
“Okay, then. I’m going back to work. You’ll have to catch me up on it tonight at supper. Love you, Gran.”
Pearl smiled. “I love you, too, honey. You’re all we have left of our sweet Billie, and we are so blessed to have you home.”
Bowie was about to leave, but Rowan was too close to ignore. When he got up, he reached down and pulled her ponytail before heading out the door.
She shook her head. “He’s a big tease, isn’t he? He’s also really handsome, but you guys already know that. So, if you’re ready to eat, I’ll get all the food on the table,” she said, and jumped up.
Ella and Pearl looked at each other and grinned.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if something started between them?” Ella whispered.
Pearl nodded. “He’s thirty-five years old, and I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to know he had found the woman of his dreams before I go…and Rowan is so sweet and loving. What a wonderful granddaughter she would make.”
“Lunch is ready!” Rowan called.
“Coming,” Ella said.
* * *
Bowie caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror as he started the car, then grabbed a handful of wet wipes to clean his face and hands before heading back to town. He knew Granny’s was likely to be busy since it was so close to the noon hour, and he was right. The parking lot was nearly full when he stopped to pick up lunch.
Frank and Jewel, his missing neighbors, were sitting in a booth eating lunch when he walked in. They waved.
Bowie waved back and then smiled. So far, most of their interaction was waving at each other. That was just about perfect for him.
Mercy was counting back change to a customer, and as soon as the man left, Bowie gave her a quick smile.
“I came to pick up an order to go.”
“I’ll get it for you,” she said, and headed for the kitchen. Moments later, she came back with two large bags and totaled up the tab.
“If it tastes as good as it smells, we’re in for a treat,” Bowie said, then signed the credit card receipt and left.
He swung by the quick stop to pick up a dozen cold bottles of Coke, which he iced down in another Styrofoam cooler he kept behind his seat, and headed back to work.
The men were outside when he arrived, washing up from one of the big water cans Ray hauled around on the job.
Joe saw him and came running. “What do you need me to carry?”
“The cooler in the back seat. It’s full of cold bottles of Coke.”
“You rock,” Joe said, then picked up the cooler and followed Bowie to the porch.
They sorted out the orders, grabbed a Coke apiece, and sat down in the shade on the porch to eat.
Bowie thought about the BLT he’d turned down as he bit into his burger.
Beef was good.
Bacon was better.
* * *
Lunch was over for the girls. Rowan had cleaned up, leaving Pearl and Ella to retire to the bedroom. When they closed the door, she knew they were reading Billie’s journal, and there was nothing left for her to do but stay out of their way. So she unfolded the lightweight blanket from the back of a recliner, wrapped it around herself, and stretched out on the sofa.
She could hear the faint murmur of the girls’ voices and wondered what, if any, revelations they might be discovering. She was wondering how the journal would affect Bowie when she drifted off to sleep, and as she did, she began to dream.
“Rowan, wake up, girl! The water’s rising! Get your clothes on, and take your purse with you. Get some snacks and water, and head to the barn loft.”
“Come with me, Daddy!”
“I’m right behind you, just hurry.”
She did as she was told and bolted out of the house. It was just after sunrise, light enough to see water was already on the porch. She jumped into the water and started trying to run, but it was halfway to her knees and moving fast, and she was moving against the current. The creek had never been out like this. At least not in her lifetime, and she was scared.
About halfway to the barn, she turned and looked back. Her daddy was coming out the back door carrying two sacks, one in each hand. Oh my God! He’d gone back for a stash of food and water.
She started to go back to help, but he shouted for her to keep going, so she did. When she reached the barn, she headed straight for the ladder on the wall leading up to the loft, threw her purse strap over her shoulder, and began to climb. She was only a few steps up when she began hearing what sounded like a roar. She looked back out of the breezeway. Her daddy was over halfway to the barn, but struggling. The water was up to his waist.
She screamed. “Daddy! Drop the sacks and run!”
She saw the terror on his face and then looked out the other side of the barn. There was a wall of water coming at them like a tidal wave. This wasn’t just a creek out of its banks.
“Climb, Rowan, climb!” her daddy shouted.
And so she did, then crawled to the hay door in the loft and looked down. The water was up to her father’s chest when the wave hit him. She saw him go under, and then he was gone.
She was screaming when the rising water washed through the breezeway in the barn. And it was still rising when she crawled back into the farthest corner of the loft and closed her eyes.
Either she would drown like Daddy, or she wouldn’t. And at that point, she wasn’t sure which would be worse.
All of a sudden, someone was shaking her awake. Rowan opened her eyes and saw Ella leaning over her.
“What’s happening?” she said.
“You screamed, child. It scared the soup out of us.”
“I’m so sorry. I was dreaming,” Rowan said, and as she sat up,
the blanket fell down around her waist.
Ella sat down beside her. “About the flood?”
Rowan nodded and burst into tears.
“I keep seeing it wash Daddy away, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“It’s all still fresh in your mind,” Ella said, and hugged her close. “Like all things, the longer you live with a truth, the more familiar it becomes. Like a scar, only one you can’t see.”
“Where’s Pearl?” Rowan asked.
Ella sighed. “She’s crying, too. It’s been years since we lost Bowie’s mother, but today, there are things we just learned that brought new pain to old wounds.”
Rowan wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, I am so sorry.”
“So are we. We know, but Bowie doesn’t. At least, not yet. Mama and I are trying to decide the best way to tell him.”
“Why don’t you let him decide if he wants to read it for himself? Didn’t he say he wasn’t sure he wanted to read it?”
Ella nodded. “But if he does read it, it might change the way he feels about her, and he’s already lost so much.”
Rowan wondered what on earth he would read that might make him love his mother less.
“Then maybe…let his curiosity be the guide. It’s not like you can keep the journal a secret, because he’s the one who found it.”
“That’s what I told Mama,” Ella said.
“Bowie strikes me as a very strong man, both in body and spirit, and no matter how hard it is to learn, if it’s your truth, it’s your truth,” Rowan said.
Ella stroked the tangles of Rowan’s hair away from her face, then tilted her chin so they were looking eye to eye.
“How did you get so wise at such a young age?”
Rowan sighed. “I don’t even remember being a kid.”
“Your mama died when you were young, didn’t she?” Ella asked.
Rowan nodded as Ella hugged her again. “You and Bowie are a pair. Both of you losing your mothers at a young age.”
Then they heard the bedroom door open and turned to look. Pearl emerged, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.
“Well, that’s that,” she said. “We need a project. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Not with all this on my mind.”
