“Aunt Leona, how much beer did you drink tonight?” Edie asked.
Leona waved her away.
“I lost count after the fourth inning,” she said.
Leona’s voice was hoarse from yelling. She booed one of the ump’s calls so loudly he muttered and glared. At that point, Vera asked Edie to tell her aunt to pipe down. But Edie reminded her it wouldn’t make a difference if she did. Her aunt wouldn’t listen. She was having too much fun.
“Vera’s gotten as fat as a pig. She should go on a diet,” her aunt went on. “She can’t even bend over to pick up a grounder.” She paused to take a breath. “I see our new neighbor came to the game. Harlan Doyle. Nice name, don’t you think?”
“He said you went by to meet him.”
“I did.” Leona nodded. “Too bad about his face. Something or someone hurt him, but you get used to it.” She frowned. “And, no, I didn’t ask him how it happened. That’s what’s Alban would do.”
“Funny, Pop said the same thing about you.”
“The smelly bastard.”
Leona clamped her mouth shut. Edie almost laughed, but she held back because it would provoke her aunt into a long discussion about Pop, mostly about his no-good qualities. He still hadn’t cut the grass. The weed trimmer from the highway garage lay on the porch. But Edie was tired of nagging her father.
“Shh, there he is,” Edie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Edie leaned her gear against the car and walked toward Harlan. He grinned when he saw her. Aunt Leona was right. You do get used to his face.
“Howdy, neighbor,” she greeted him.
Harlan hobbled as he picked up speed.
“You’re a really good player,” he said.
She smiled.
“I learned everything from my aunt. Besides, it wasn’t a strong team.”
Harlan shrugged.
“I enjoyed myself.”
“Are you still sleeping in your tent?”
“No, I’m inside now. I only live in two rooms, but it’s coming along. You’ll have to stop by to see what I’ve done.”
His head dipped forward. The skin on his neck reddened.
“I’ll do that.” She saw over her shoulder that Aunt Leona and Amber waited beside her car. “Sorry, I gotta go.”
Edie loaded the gear and her aunt’s chair into the trunk. She started the car. Leona chuckled.
“What?” Edie asked her.
“I think he’s kind of taken with you,” Leona said.
Edie’s eyes were on the rearview mirror as she backed the car from its spot.
“Who?”
“The new neighbor,” she said.
“Aw, come on.”
Her aunt slapped her arm.
“Course, he is. I can tell. I saw his face when he talked with you.”
“I just got the feeling he thinks he says too much,” Edie said. “But he really didn’t.”
Leona snickered.
“See?”
She put the car in forward.
“If you say so, Aunt Leona.”
Girl Talk
Edie walked into the Do-Si-Do Bar. The team was there to celebrate Gloria’s birthday although at first she wouldn’t go along. The rule was women only, and only those old enough to drink, so that left out the teenagers. The team invited her aunt, but she begged off. She had her fill of beer tonight. Amber could stay with her. Edie should go and have fun for the both of them. She went home first to change out of her sweaty uniform. Most did the same.
“I don’t like making such a big deal about my birthday,” Gloria complained.
“Maybe we do,” Vera said.
“Shoot, it’s my birthday, and I can do what I want.”
“Fat chance on that,” one of Vera’s cousins said.
They were having pizza and beer, and Patsy paid for the first round, which she said was on Birdie. Edie got the second, and by then everybody was loosened up, talking it up about family and the team.
“Did you see their shortstop split her pants in the third inning?” one of Vera’s cousins, the starting second baseman, said in her squeaky voice. “Her butt was so huge, it looked like a crescent moon whenever she bent over. Somebody on her team should’ve told her.”
Robin giggled so hard she sprayed Coke through her nose and mouth. Gloria patted her back while Edie used napkins to clean up the mess.
“At least it wasn’t a full moon,” Vera said, which made everyone laugh harder.
Edie gazed across the crowded room. Walker drank with his crew at a table, and a few times he and she exchanged looks. A band wouldn’t start until nine, so people kept feeding the juke. Then it would get quiet for a while until someone, who couldn’t stand being in a bar without music, got it going again. A couple of times, Walker stood over the jukebox, punching in numbers for all the songs he knew she liked.
Patsy raised her bottle in a toast to Gloria, and everyone went along, which made the woman go all smiles. She stretched over the table to give her friends high-fives. They were definitely the noisiest in the joint. Once in a while, a man stopped at the table, but Vera would tell him to take a hike. This party was strictly for girl talk. Walker stayed clear although he gave Edie a wink when she passed toward the women’s room.
Gloria pointed her bottle at Robin.
“I like your new hairdo,” she said. “Short and spiky. You look like one of those rock stars.”
“Go on,” Robin gushed.
Gloria waved at Robin.
“Stand up, so everybody can see,” she said.
Robin waved her off.
“Shit, Robin, why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Vera asked. “You’d make a great catch for some guy.”
“Yeah, but it’s gotta be the right guy,” Patsy said.
Edie scanned the barroom. The place was crowded with so many longhaired guys in jeans and t-shirts, it looked like men’s night at the Do-Si-Do.
“There’s gotta be a decent man in here somewhere,” Vera said.
“Robin, what do you want in a guy?” Patsy asked.
“Want?” Robin answered.
“For starters, he has to have all the standard equipment,” Vera said.
“You mean he can drive stick?” Robin asked.
Vera slapped the table so hard the beer bottles clattered.
“A dick.” Vera raised one finger then two. “Can drive stick on a pickup.” She searched the room. “Shit, it could be anyone in here. Like him.”
The girls laughed when Vera pointed at the old coot playing with his false teeth at the end of the bar.
“Real teeth definitely would be a plus,” Edie said, deciding to go along with the fun.
“A plus. I like that,” Patsy said. “What else?”
Robin grinned.
“He’s gotta have a job,” she said.
Vera swept her hand toward the men sitting on the stools at the bar.
“Hell, that cuts out about twenty percent of the room. We’re gettin’ somewhere.”
Everyone on the team was into it now. They shouted suggestions then hooted loudly at Robin’s reactions and Vera’s comments.
“How about someone who doesn’t run around with other women?” Vera’s cousin, the second baseman, said because her two-timing husband dumped her last year.
“Yup,” Vera said.
“He doesn’t fart or burp on purpose in front of you,” Vera’s other cousin said. “And if he does by accident, he says, ‘Excuse me’.”
“Shit, that’s another,” Vera said.
As Edie listened, she realized her teammates were talking about the men they knew and not a special guy for Robin.
“He should remember her birthday and not ask her what she wants for a gift,” Patsy said.
The women howle
d.
Walker strutted across the room to their table.
“I believe you gals are having the best time in the Do tonight. Mind if I join the team?”
Vera gave him an eye.
“Get lost, Walker. This is for women only.”
“What the hell.”
Vera jerked a thumb.
“You heard me. Beat it.”
Patsy bent forward over the beer bottles.
“Since when did you become a fan of the team?” she asked Walker.
“It’s got women, don’t it?” the second baseman said.
The other women roared at Walker’s expense. He glanced at Edie, but she wasn’t about to come to his defense.
“I guess I know where I’m not wanted,” he said.
“You got that right, Walker St. Claire,” Vera said. “Now git.”
Noticed These Things
Harlan sat at the bar of the Do-Si-Do, watching the action. The band was back after a break, the guys strapping on their guitars and setting fresh beers on the stage floor. The lead singer lit a cigarette before they played the opening chords of something Southern. Harlan arrived as the women from Edie’s softball team were leaving, and Edie introduced him to several of her teammates before he escaped to a stool. He grinned when Edie came from the payphone to the bar.
“All right, I can stay longer,” she said to the bartender, and then she smiled at Harlan. “Howdy, neighbor.”
“I met your daughter today,” Harlan said. “She hung around for a few minutes.”
“I heard. Amber’s on the shy side until she gets to know you. She takes after the St. Claires. I’ve never known a Sweet to give up the end of a conversation. She did say you had nice things. Lots of tools.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Edie’s head jiggled to the song’s beat.
“The band’s pretty good, don’t you think?” she said.
“I’d say so.”
“Do you dance?”
“I used to before the accident. Maybe I could if it was a slow song.”
Edie came closer.
“We should try it sometime,” she said in a low voice, and he felt heat rise from his neck to his cheeks.
A new song started, and a tall man with a heavy beard asked Edie to dance. She raised her eyes at Harlan, but she told the man yes, and after a quick swig of beer, she left. Harlan followed her around the floor, and when the song was over, she danced with another man who asked.
Walker took the stool next to his.
“Put two beers on my tab, one for my friend here,” he told the bartender, and then he turned toward Harlan. “We’ll be at your house early Monday if that’s all right with you,” he said, all business, but then his tight face softened when Edie reached between them for her bottle.
Walker grinned.
“Hope that guy didn’t break any toes.”
“It wasn’t so bad.”
“You were lucky.”
Walker didn’t take his gaze off Edie. His voice took on a warm, teasing tone. He whispered in Edie’s ear, but she shook her head and said, “No.” He asked if they could go outside, and again she said no. Harlan noticed these things. Edie went across the room, sitting with a group at a table until she danced with yet another man. Walker pressed his lips, and then he slapped his hand on the bar top.
“I need to head out early. I gotta see about a job tomorrow morning. Some folks from New York want to fix up an old house they bought. His and her lawyers. It’s more house than two people need, but I won’t refuse ’em.” He downed the rest of his beer. His head bobbed toward Edie. “Something else, ain’t she?”
“Yes, she is,” Harlan said.
It was close to last call when Edie was back at the bar. Her arm brushed Harlan’s when she asked the bartender for another beer.
“Put it on my tab, will ya, Mike?” she said. “I’ll settle with ya later.”
“Having fun?” Harlan asked.
She leaned against Harlan as she drank. Enough buttons on her blouse had come undone, so he saw the lacy edge of her red bra.
“It’s okay, but I’m not going home with any of them.” Her words moved like ball bearings over a wooden floor. She pointed to a dark-haired man. “He sure wants me to.” She pointed to two others. “Them, too, but I’m not interested.” She laughed hard, nearly tipping off her stool, but Harlan caught her arm to save her. “Thanks.” Her voice was breathy.
“Let me give you a ride home.”
She patted his shoulder.
“No, I’m fine. I’ve driven home a lot drunker than this. Besides, it’s not that far.”
Edie was off her stool, walking unsteadily toward the door. Harlan hobbled after her, but by time he stepped outside, her car was gone. He got in his truck and followed the sway of her car’s rear lights up the road. He drove slowly, so as not to panic her, but she sped up. When he turned onto Doyle Road, he found her car hung up on a stonewall at the first curve. He moved so quickly from his truck, he hopped.
Edie opened the car door, laughing and taking his hand as if this was a planned part of her night out. He reached past her to turn off the engine.
“It’s you again. Hello, neighbor.”
She kept laughing as he used the strength of his arms and his good leg to hoist her into the cab of his pickup.
“That curve sure snuck up on me,” she said. “But Pop can get my car out. He can borrow chains and a truck from the highway garage. He can leave ’em in the front yard with the weed trimmer and the mower. Might as well have everything from the highway garage at our house. We already got the dump out back.”
Her laughter was loud and high. Harlan laughed with her as he parked the truck in her driveway. The headlights swept across the back porch, where cats’ eyes shined green and glassy.
Edie patted his arm.
“So, Harlan, what do you think of our little town? We haven’t scared you away to wherever you came from, have we?”
“I’m from Florida, then Washington State. And, no, I haven’t been scared away.”
He shook his head. She was smashed.
“Glad to hear it. Pop and Leona say you’re okay, so that’s a good sign. I liked your grandmother. Know what she used to do? She’d get three cords of firewood dropped off in her driveway in the spring. Every time she went in, she carried one or two logs into the shed off the kitchen.”
“What shed?”
“That’s long gone. It caved in one winter. Your uncle paid Pop to clear it away. The pieces are in our back yard with everything else.” She made a high-pitched laugh. “If somebody came to see your grandma, she yelled out the window to bring in some wood. When fall came, all of it was inside.” Edie giggled. “How old was she when she died?”
“Ninety-three.”
“Ninety-three.” She twirled a finger. “And sharp till the end.”
The porch light came on, and a bare-chested Benny Sweet walked outside. He hitched his pants and squinted at Harlan’s truck. His work boots were untied.
Benny poked his head inside the truck.
“What’s the matter with her?”
“I believe she drank a little too much.” Harlan hooked his thumb toward the road’s entrance. “Her car’s stuck on a stonewall back there.”
Edie stared at him, and then her father.
“Not again,” Benny said. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her mouth spread into a teasing grin. “Pop, where were you tonight? You missed a good time at the Do. All the ladies were asking about you.”
“Which ones?”
“All of ’em.”
Benny laughed through his nose. Harlan laughed with him.
“Yeah, well, there’s always next time,” her father said.
Benny opened the truck door. Edie smiled at Harl
an as she slid to the ground. Benny’s arm coiled around his daughter. He took her purse from Harlan.
“Honey, let me get you inside. The skeeters are kinda bad.”
“Sure, Pop. You finally cut the grass, and you did a really nice job this time.” Her voice moved up and down as if it was set to music. “I can’t believe it.”
“Watch your step,” her father said, and without looking back, he gave Harlan a large, friendly wave of his hand.
True
Pop crouched next to Edie’s car. She watched him take different angles on its undercarriage and the stonewall.
“I feel stupid missing that curve, Pop. Is my car gonna be okay? I gotta do my delivery route this morning.”
Pop stood and wiped the dirt from his hands on the back of his pants.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you out. You were damn lucky, honey. Nothin’ looks broken underneath. I think I can drive it back down the way you got it up there. Now move outta the way.”
Pop yelled about a lot of things and people, but not about anything she or Amber ever did. The rest of the world, including his resentful older daughters, was the source of his problems, not those he loved best. He cranked the engine, and using the mirrors, he inched the car backwards. Edie gave him a cheer when the four wheels were on the ground. He grinned at her when he got out, and then he circled the car, inspecting its condition. He whistled a short, busy tune over and over.
“Just a couple of scratches,” he said. “Be more careful next time. Get a ride, will ya? Or I’ll come get you. You should’ve let Harlan do it.”
She winced.
“That was sure embarrassing, me acting like a loud drunk from a bar in front of him. What must he be thinking?”
“Aw, honey, we all act foolish once in a while.” He chuckled. “Even your old man.”
Edie kissed her father’s cheek.
“Thanks, Pop. What would I do without you?”
“I keep askin’ myself that. When your Ma died, I was a broken man. Maybe if I’d been younger, I’d a found another wife, someone to help me raise you.”
“Oh, Pop.”
“Don’t ‘oh, Pop’ me. You need to get yourself a man, Edie. I ain’t gonna be around forever.”
The Sweet Spot Page 8