by Sharon Sala
He watched until they’d driven out of sight and then went back inside.
“Your gran and Aunt Ella are awesome,” Samuel said. “I don’t think we’ve ever done a house for anyone quite as appreciative as they are.”
Bowie nodded. “This is going to be at a level of elegance they’d never imagined would be in their home, and they deserve it. So what’s left to do this evening?”
“We’re finishing up in the kitchen, and the living room/dining room is all that’s left. After that, we’ll clean up our stuff and be done.”
“Then I’m going to be out here on the porch for a bit, following up on deliveries.”
* * *
Bowie arrived home to find something of a celebration taking place. All three women were at the dining room table playing cards, and every time one of them won a hand, they toasted each other and then burst into laughter.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Gran, are you sitting on your underwear again?”
That set them off laughing again.
Finally, Rowan caught her breath enough to explain.
“I sold the farm. There was a bidding war, and I got ten thousand dollars over the asking price.”
“Oh wow! Honey! That’s awesome,” he said, and pulled her up from the chair and danced her across the room and back, with her laughing all the way. “So, I get the toasting, but what’s so funny about the sale?” he asked.
“On, there’s nothing funny about the sale, and this isn’t Coke in our glasses.”
He blinked, then picked up Rowan’s glass, smelled it, then took a sip and grinned.
“Y’all found the liquor cabinet, and if I’m not mistaken you’re drinking Gentleman Jack, one of Jack Daniel’s finer whiskeys.”
The girls lifted their glasses. “He’s right!” Ella said, and they took another sip.
Rowan giggled. “We’re laughing ’cause we might be a bit tipsy.”
“She’s right!” Pearl said, and they lifted their glasses again and took another sip.
“Is there any left?” he asked.
“Oh my goodness, yes. It’s right where we found it.”
“Then I believe I might join you.”
“Yay!” they all said, and had another tiny sip.
Bowie was trying not to laugh at them as he poured himself a shot, then came back to the table.
“To the three finest women I know,” he said, and downed the shot neat.
“Oooh! Look what he did!” Rowan mumbled, eyeing the quarter inch of whiskey left in her glass. “What is it they say? Asses up?”
Pearl snorted. “No, girl. Lord, you can tell you’re not a drinker. It’s bottoms up.”
“Oh. Anyway, in my mouth and all the way to my toes, that’s as far as the whiskey can go!” Then she downed what was left in her glass, just like Bowie.
Not to be outdone, Pearl and Ella emptied their glasses, too, and then they all three laughed until they were gasping for breath.
Bowie kept grinning. They were a sorry lot as far as drinkers go. He shook his head and then leaned down in front of all of them and kissed Rowan soundly on the lips.
An immediate hush fell over the room.
Rowan gasped. “Did you just tell?”
“It appears I might have given them a big hint. I’m going to shower. Don’t drink any more. I don’t want to eat supper by myself.” He started to the bathroom and then stopped. “I’m cooking tonight. There’s not a one of you sober enough to be trusted with fire.”
They looked at each other, then nodded at him in agreement. But he had no more than closed the bathroom door when he heard them burst into laughter again. It was all the warning he needed to hurry. They were too tipsy to remember what he said about fires.
Bowie was out of the shower in record time, then made bacon and tomato sandwiches for supper and a huge pot of coffee. They were all going to have hangovers, but he could at least get some food in their bellies and a little caffeine to boot.
As it turned out, the food should have been in their bellies before the drinking began, but it was too late now.
They spent the night either throwing up or meandering through the room looking for something for a headache, and when Bowie left for work the next morning, they were all still in bed asleep.
He leaned down, planted a soft kiss on Rowan’s forehead, and whispered “Love you” in her ear, then slipped out.
Chapter 21
Two days later, Junior was not only awake but had been moved to his own room and was cognizant of the fact that he’d had some kind of stomach surgery. But every time he asked for details, the nurses gave him the runaround or his parents just kept saying he got hurt on the job.
But today, he wasn’t buying that anymore. It was just before noon when they arrived. He waited as the greetings were made. Mama kissed him, and his dad patted him on the shoulder and grinned, and then he hit them with his complaint.
“We need to talk. Have a seat.”
“What’s wrong?” Tiny asked.
“You two have beat around the bush enough. I want the real truth about what happened to me.”
Emmitt sighed and looked at Tiny, but she didn’t hesitate.
“We weren’t trying to keep it a secret, but we needed to make sure you were strong enough to hear it.”
“My God, Mama. Hear what? What could possibly be that bad?”
“Your grandpa had another fight with your grandma, raising all kinds of a ruckus that scared her enough she called the police. He heard the sirens and drove away, but it upset her enough that she passed out. She was already in the ER when Jud went looking for Bowie James. He drove to the house where you were all working, saw Bowie through a window, and pulled out his gun. He took aim, but just as he was pulling the trigger, you walked in front of Bowie and he shot you instead.”
Junior gasped and laid his hands over his belly.
“Grandpa shot me?”
“Oh, he didn’t mean to, and he freaked out when he saw what he’d done. He went running toward the house, still carrying his gun. Bowie knocked him out at the door, then took off his shirt and used it for a compress on your wound until the ambulance arrived. He saved your life. The EMTs said it. The doctor said it.”
“Oh my God! Mama! Grandpa was really going to kill him?”
“He’d already be gone if you hadn’t stopped the bullet,” Tiny said.
Junior lay there, trying to collect his thoughts.
“And there’s one other thing you need to know,” Emmitt said. “Bowie James dropped all the charges against you the day he hired you. Chief Pittman told us. I don’t know why Bowie didn’t tell you, too. Then you wouldn’t have had to work, and you wouldn’t have been there when this happened.”
Junior shook his head. “Dad. You’re never going to understand people like him. He wouldn’t have dropped the charges if I hadn’t asked him for the job. You paying for everything still wouldn’t have made him drop the charges against me. He was giving me a chance to do the right thing. And if I hadn’t, he would be dead, and I don’t know if I could have lived with myself, knowing I’d vandalized his car and then my grandpa killed him in cold blood.”
“I get it, I guess,” Emmitt said. “But you nearly died.”
“I didn’t because of him,” Junior said. “And by the way, where’s Grandpa? Jail, I hope.”
“He’s there,” Tiny said. “But not for long. He’s in court being sentenced as we speak.”
Junior leaned back, suddenly exhausted. “Is Grandma okay?”
“She’s out of the hospital. We don’t know any more. She’s not talking to us. But it is what it is. We can’t wait for you to come home. The house feels empty without you in it.”
“I’m tired, Mama. I think I need to rest a while,” he said.
Emmitt and Tiny were instantly on
their feet, hugging him goodbye and promising they’d be back later that evening to spend a little time with him before he went to sleep.
He waved but didn’t comment. He didn’t know what to say.
While Junior was trying to sleep off the horror of what he’d learned, Judson Boone was in court.
Since the State of Georgia did not have an attempted murder charge on the books, he was officially found guilty of aggravated assault and sentenced to twenty years, which was the maximum penalty allowed by law.
Chief Pittman was leading Jud out of the courtroom in handcuffs when Jud looked up and nearly stumbled.
Cora was sitting in the courtroom, just as she had the day he and Junior were first arrested. His heart sank. He couldn’t look at her without shame for what he’d done to her, so he ducked his head and walked out of her sight.
Cora sat motionless for almost ten minutes after Jud was gone, but she’d had to see this for herself. He was seventy-two years old. He wouldn’t live twenty more years, not in prison. So that’s where his life would end.
She got up and walked out of the courthouse and into the sunlight, pausing a moment to look around at the little town of Blessings, and then sighed.
“And this is where my life will end, right where I belong.”
She lifted her chin, took the handicap ramp down from the steps, and went to her car.
Today was the first day of the rest of her life.
* * *
Less than a week later, and two days after Junior’s sixteenth birthday, Emmitt and Tiny took him home. They talked all the way home about moving away now, and where they might go. But every time they asked Junior for input, he had nothing to say. Even as they were going into the house, they were still talking about leaving it.
“I’m gonna go lie down for a bit,” Junior said, and Tiny went with him to his room and tucked him in for a rest.
“I’ll bet it feels good to be home, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged. “It can’t be home if you and Daddy are already talking about leaving it.”
Tiny frowned. “Well, you know why. People in Blessings don’t want us here anymore, and I don’t stay where I’m not wanted,” she said. “Don’t worry about grown-up things. That’s for your daddy and me to decide.”
Junior eased himself into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come. And the longer he stared at the ceiling, the more certain he became.
Supper that night was something of a celebration. Tiny made Junior’s favorite spaghetti and meat sauce, and lemon pie for dessert, then couldn’t stop touching him and talking, as if she sensed the growing distance between them.
Emmitt was quiet but he knew something was going on, and halfway through his piece of pie he laid down his fork and looked up.
“Junior, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not going with you,” he said.
Tiny’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She cast a frantic look at Emmitt as if to say, Do something.
“What are you talking about? You sure as hell are going with us.”
“No, sir. I’m not. Blessings is my home. I belong here. I’m not guilty of anything, and I’m not running away from nothing.”
“I have to find work, and no one in this town is going to hire me.”
“Then go. Grandma is alone. I’m alone. Nobody is mad at us, and I’m going to live with her. I don’t want her growing old alone.”
Tiny started crying, but not her usual tirade. Just the quiet tears of a broken heart.
“Do you hate us, too?” Emmitt asked.
“I don’t hate either of you,” Junior said. “But I also don’t know who either of you are. What I do know is you’re not who I thought you were. It’s like we’re from two different planets, Daddy. I don’t understand the way you think and speak, and you don’t understand me or my language.”
“That’s bullshit! You’ll go with us if I have to tie your ass down to do it!” Emmitt shouted.
Junior just sat there, watching his daddy’s face turning red like it always did when orders weren’t followed. And his mother was crying. Just like she always did to get her way.
“You can’t make me, Daddy. Not anymore. I’m sixteen. I have the option of choosing where I want to live now, and I choose Grandma. She knows how to be quiet, and she knows how to love.”
“She damn sure does not!” Emmitt shouted. “She quit on Daddy, and she quit on us.”
Junior flinched as if he’d just been slapped.
“Your daddy shot me, put Grandma in the hospital, and you’re still taking up for him? I don’t speak that language, Daddy. I can’t understand what you’re saying anymore.”
He pushed himself away from the table, put his hand against his belly, and walked out of the room.
Tiny looked at Emmitt in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Emmitt glared.
Tiny stared.
And Junior was in his room, texting Cora.
* * *
Cora had just finished her supper dishes and settled into her recliner when her phone signaled a text. She picked it up, then read it in shock. Then she read it again, and again, until everything she was reading made sense.
Mama and Daddy are moving away from Blessings because they said they don’t belong here anymore. But I still belong here. You still belong here. You’re alone. I’m alone. I think we need each other. Bowie showed me what being a man of honor meant. I will be good for the rest of my life. Could I please live with you?
Cora typed in one word, then hit Send.
Yes.
Two days later Emmitt dropped his son at his mother’s doorstep, waited until she opened the door, and then watched her wrap her arms around him. The door shut, and just like that his son was out of their lives.
He drove home to get Tiny. They were packed and ready to go. They left town pulling a small U-Haul trailer.
Tiny was sobbing, and Emmitt felt like it, but he just kept driving north. He wanted to be somewhere without hurricanes, somewhere that had snow.
He’d heard the other day that Jud had already been transported to some prison where he would be for the rest of his life. All the men in Emmitt’s life were gone. Tiny was all he had, which wasn’t saying much. But she was better than nothing, and that’s how he rolled.
* * *
Pearl’s house was nearing completion. Electricians and plumbers had come back to finish up. All the light fixtures were in place, the quartz countertops had gone in that morning, and the last bits of connecting plumbing to appliances were finished. After that came flooring and then cleanup. The furniture they’d ordered would be here in two days, and after that was move-in day.
Rowan had come to work with Bowie that morning and was sweeping so they’d be ready for new flooring to go down.
She was working in the kitchen when she heard the first clap of thunder. Her heart started to pound, and she was trying not to panic when Bowie came running.
She dropped the broom and walked straight into his arms.
“It’s just thunder. It’s supposed to rain. Just some rain, honey. No big winds, no tornado warnings. Just some wind, rain, and noise.”
“Okay,” she said. “Just noise and rain.”
“Yes. Do you want to go home? Before the rain starts?”
She couldn’t look at him. She hated how this made her feel. But she couldn’t control it.
“Yes.”
“Hey, Ray!” Bowie shouted.
Ray came running. “Yeah, Boss. What’s up?”
“I’m taking Rowan home before it starts to rain. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Ray said, and followed them out to make sure all the windows on the crew’s vehicles were rolled up.
It thundered again just after they were inside the
car, and Rowan jumped.
“I’m sorry.”
“No apologies. You’re allowed to feel how you feel.”
The first drops were already falling when he pulled into the trailer park. He was walking her to the door when Pearl swung it inward. She saw the look on Rowan’s face and took her by the hand.
“Honey, Ella is making hot chocolate and I’m baking cookies. You’re going to be fine,” she said.
Bowie was surprised by the preparations they’d already made.
“How did you know to do this?” he asked.
“We watched the weather report and hedged our bets,” Ella said. “Even if the thunderstorm missed us, we still had cookies and hot chocolate, and that’s always a good thing.”
He hated to leave Rowan, but they were so close to being done at Pearl’s house that he didn’t want to overlook a thing.
“I’m just a phone call away if you need me,” he said.
Rowan hugged him. “I’ll be fine.”
He frowned at the three of them. “This is not a good time for Gentleman Jack.”
Rowan made a face. “I don’t care if I never drink another drop of anything alcoholic as long as I live.”
“Not even champagne on our wedding day?” Bowie said, and laughed when she shuddered.
Ella groaned. “I threw up more that night than I have in my whole life. Please don’t mention whiskey again.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “Ella told me I talked about my wedding night with her daddy, so I have sworn off of liquor for the rest of my life.”
Ella snickered.
“Hush it, Ella May,” Pearl said.
Bowie left laughing.
It took the girls a minute for what he’d said to sink in, and then Ella squealed.
“Bowie asked you to marry him?”
“Yes,” she said, then braced herself for the onslaught of hugs, kisses, and giggles, and so many questions for which she had no answers. “We haven’t set a date. And we’re going to be living in the motor home and traveling to his jobsites, just like he does right now. I don’t need a house or a white picket fence or two cars in the garage and a set of china. All I want in this world is him, and he’s already mine.”
