“Your daddy was a real good man, and he loved you boys so much. He was proud of you both. Don’t ever forget that. I’m so sorry. I really am.”
She wanted to hug Walker’s sons, they were taking this so hard, but their mother hissed, “Get away from them. Those are my boys. Mine and Walker’s.”
Edie looked up at Sharon’s hard face. So did her sons.
“I just wanna say something to the boys.”
“You’ve done enough already. Git the hell outta here. Don’t you even try going to the funeral tomorrow. I’ll have you kicked out in front of all those people. You hear?” She motioned to her brothers, who hustled to her side. “I want her out now.”
Edie rose.
“Believe me, you don’t know how sorry I am. I’m sorry for you and your boys. I’m sorry for Fred and Marie. But mostly I’m sorry for Walker.”
Neither Sharon nor her brothers spoke as Edie took a moment to stand in front of the casket. She bowed her head and placed her right hand on its top.
“Good-bye, Walker. Rest in peace,” she whispered before she linked arms with Leona to follow Pop from the over-heated room.
Heat Wave
The sky was chalked a thick, gray haze when Edie left her house. She lifted the back of her hair to cool her neck and used bobby pins from her pocket to put it up.
The heat that began before Walker died didn’t appear to be ending anytime soon. At night, she slept on top of the spread. Sometimes she woke and was ready to check for Walker’s pickup until she realized it was no longer necessary. She let the fan that swirled the hot air in her room lull her back to sleep.
Aunt Leona said the heat was a sign they’d have a very cold winter.
“I’ve lived long enough to know what happens around here,” she said.
Edie stepped off the porch. Pop was in back of their house, attaching a hose to the faucet. She eyed his dirty, rusty pickup and laughed.
“You’re not really gonna wash that old heap of yours, are you?” she asked.
Her father gave her a pained expression as he dragged the hose along the driveway.
“Honey, I was hopin’ I’d get this done before you saw it.”
“Saw what?”
Her father’s head jerked toward the house.
“Go ahead. Check it out.”
Edie went to the part of the house facing the road. She held her hand to her mouth and let out a cry. The white clapboards and parts of the windows were splattered with eggs, dozens of them.
Pop stood near her.
“Li’l fuckers did it last night. Heard ’em, but by time I got on my drawers, they were peelin’ outta here. Got a look at the car though. I’m sure who owns it.”
“Who?”
Pop spat on the ground.
“One of those punk Crocker kids. Jim’s oldest boy. I seen that car of his around town. He had his pals with him. They’re probably the ones who dumped the garbage the night before.” He spat again. “I cleaned it up before you saw it. I think it was pig guts. Came home and saw the cats in it. Shit.”
“Gee, Pop, I didn’t hear a thing.”
His chin bounced.
“That’s okay. I can take care of this trouble by myself just fine.” He nodded toward the house. “You might want to go shut the windows on this side, so I don’t make more of a mess.”
Edie ran inside to lower the windows, and when she returned, Pop handed her the hose’s nozzle. He marched toward the house to turn on the faucet. The hose filled slowly, and by time it spurted hard, he took it from her.
“Stand back,” he said.
Edie leaned against her car. She only knew the Crocker boy from her vantage point at the store. When he was small, he was the boy who always got the candy he wanted from his mother. His father, Jim, let him sit in on the men’s talk.
“I know who you’re talking about,” she said. “Cocky kid. He came into the store sometimes. I bet he did it on his own, but he won’t get into trouble at home.” She snorted. “They’ll likely be proud.”
“Yup, it’ll be a big, fat joke for all the Crockers their boy did this,” he said.
Pop jumped about the grass, muttering curses as he aimed water over the dried egg. He moved closer to the house.
“Try not to take the paint off, Pop.”
He waved at her.
“I got a hold of the chief. He should be here soon. I’m not lettin’ those bastards get away with this. Who knows what shit they’ll pull next?”
Edie shook her head.
“What good’s the chief gonna do?”
Pop twisted the nozzle all the way before he went to inspect the house. He shrugged. His overalls were soaked through in the front.
“That’s the best I can get it. A couple of storms should take the rest off.”
Both turned when the chief parked his cruiser behind Pop’s pickup. He got out of the front seat slowly.
The man had been the town’s chief for decades. The only thing that kept him from quitting was he retired from his job at the sawmill, and he didn’t have anything else to do. At least, that was Pop’s opinion. The chief wasn’t a bad cop, just a hick-town cop not used to crime. He thought married people should work out their differences and not bother the police. The only speeders who should get ticketed were out-of-towners. The chief was also loath to make an arrest and miss a meal hauling someone to jail. He left that task to his underlings, like Buddy Crocker, who were more than willing to stay on the clock. But the chief was the most reasonable cop on the force, and Pop claimed they were related in a distant way, close enough he thought he had an in with the man.
The chief said Pop’s name and hers. Her father let the nozzle fall to the ground. He wiped his palms across the back of his overalls before he shook his hand.
“Glad you could make it, chief.”
Edie was silent as her father retold the story. The chief’s face got grim when Pop mentioned Jim Crocker’s boy, and after he was done, he said, “You sure, Benny? I mean it was nighttime.”
“I tell you I recognized the car. If you don’t believe me, go find a blue ’71 Mustang with a busted left taillight, and you got your boy.”
The chief made a humming noise deep in his throat. His head rocked. Everyone knew who drove what in Conwell.
“He’s a good kid, hangs around with a decent crowd. You know kids though. Sometimes they act up, do stupid pranks like this.” He made a hollow chuckle. “You were young once, Benny. Me, too.”
“Suppose my granddaughter had been home when this happened? What about her? What about the stuff they dumped the other night?”
The chief studied the house’s clapboards. He cleared his throat.
“Things are a bit touchy right now. People are still upset about what happened to Walker, and, eh, what led up to that situation. I’m afraid the hard feelings are gonna last a while.” The chief eyed Edie. “I’d hate to make trouble for these boys. They come from good families.”
Edie felt her neck and face burn. She wanted a turn, but Pop beat her to it.
“Yeah? What about this good family? You tellin’ me you ain’t gonna do nothin’ about this?”
Edie touched Pop’s arm, but he snatched it away.
“Pop, Pop, take it easy.”
Her father’s focus stayed on the chief.
“Hell, tonight I’m sittin’ in my truck, and if they show up, I’m gonna shoot the tires off the kid’s car.” He pulled his chin up. “You and me have gone hunting together plenty of times. I believe you can recall what a dead shot I am.”
The chief raised his hand.
“Hold on, Benny. I don’t want to hear talk like this. You could get yourself in a whole lot of trouble.”
“Seems to me we already are.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll talk to Buddy about the boy. He’s his
uncle. That all right?”
Edie stepped away. She could no longer listen. The chief would get his way. Buddy would tell his nephew to stay clear, but he wouldn’t be serious about it, and then something else would happen. Edie thought she was safe here. She was wrong.
She shut the door hard when she went inside her house. The air felt cooked, but she left the windows closed. She went through the mail Pop piled on the kitchen table: a few bills, junk, and a postcard from Amber, but no envelope still from her in-laws although Fred promised Pop to mail her last check. Surely, they knew she needed it.
She reread her daughter’s note. Amber didn’t like the food at camp, but she went swimming every day. She was making presents for everyone. She missed being at home. She signed it: I LOVE YOU THE MOST, AMBER.
Edie carried the card into her daughter’s bedroom as neat as she left it before she went to camp. Two baby-faced dolls passed down from Edie’s mother stared unblinking on the pink chenille spread. She left the card on the bureau. Pop was right. Suppose Amber was here when this happened? She was coming home tomorrow. She knew nothing about what happened while she was gone.
Pop, her ears in town, told Edie what people were saying about her and Walker, some of it wrong, most of it harsh. One time he got so hot, he almost came to blows with someone at the dump defending her. He couldn’t help himself. But she worried more about Amber and what she could hear.
Edie continued through the house. Water drops from the hose clung to the windows in the living room. Bits of egg were on the screens. She watched Pop and the chief in the driveway. The chief was talking, and whatever he said was not making her father happy. Pop’s face was red. His head shook.
Edie rushed outside and down the porch steps. The chief appeared startled at her rapid arrival, but Pop kept on until she touched his arm.
“Pop, please,” she said before she spoke to the chief. “It seems like you’re in a pretty tough spot, you being close to the Crocker family. Buddy’s an officer on your force after all.” She took a breath. “I’m real worried about Amber. She’s coming home from camp tomorrow. And I don’t want Pop taking the law into his hands.”
The chief’s smooth chin jutted forward.
“You’re right about that, Edie,” he said.
She patted her father’s arm.
“So, I’m thinking it’d be best to let the state police handle this one. Course, they’ll likely press charges against the kids. That okay with you, chief? I could go now and make the call.”
The chief cleared his throat.
“Uh, that won’t be necessary, Edie. I’ll go see the boy myself right now. I’ll give him a stern warning to leave you all alone. I believe he’s working at his Uncle Buddy’s garage during the summer.”
Pop winked at Edie. He caught on fast what she was trying to do. He rubbed the whiskers on his chin.
“Just as long as they leave this good family alone,” Pop said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he told her.
Edie smiled.
“Thanks, chief.”
The man nodded before he walked toward his cruiser. He made a three-point turn and was gone.
“That’s that,” Pop said, patting her back. “You did fine, Edie. Don’t know if it’ll change things, but you did real fine.”
Beautiful And Wild
Harlan made his slow, uneven way to the river. He had been working in his shop on the dovetail joints for a desk’s drawers, but the hot, humid air drove him away from this job. The weather was supposed to break soon although that possibility seemed remote as the heat closed around him.
He grinned when he found Edie floating on her back in the deepest part of the river. He swam nearly every day, but he hadn’t seen her here since Walker’s death.
Edie greeted him right away.
“Hey, neighbor, looks like you had the same idea,” she sang.
“Yeah, neighbor. Amber still at camp?”
“Yup. It’s just you and me today.”
Harlan grinned all the while he untied his sneakers and walked tender-footed to the water. He made a shallow dive toward Edie, keeping about four feet between them. She dropped into the water, so she faced him.
“How have you been?” he asked.
She pulled her mouth inward.
“All right, I suppose, but those damn Crockers won’t give up. Last night, they threw eggs at the house. The other night, it was pig guts.”
“Did you call the police?”
“The chief came. He wasn’t going to do anything about it. You know boys will be boys.” She shook her head. “I got him by threatening to call the state cops.”
“The police chief wasn’t going to do anything? I don’t believe it. Too bad I wasn’t there to help.”
“Thanks, but it’s not your fight, Harlan Doyle. There’s one thing more you need to learn about this town: who you are and who you know matters. Right now, I’m nobody, worse actually cause I messed up bad. It’s the way it is.”
He thought about the police chief’s reluctance to get involved in Edie and Benny’s problems. Elsewhere, the chief would have had the kids brought in, but Conwell wasn’t elsewhere, he realized. He was at the store the other day when he heard the woman at the counter, Vera, talk about Edie to her customers. She told Harlan, “So, what do you think of your neighbor now?” He told her, “Those were some pretty harsh words you said about my neighbor.” Vera’s mouth fell open.
He messed up badly, too, after his wife left him, but he, at least, had the anonymity of the city. Edie was a target here even although she didn’t deserve it.
“That’s unfair,” he told Edie.
“You’d better get used to it if you plan to stick around, Harlan,” she said.
“I was planning to.”
“Glad to hear it.” Edie’s mouth formed a thin, crooked grin. “I do have to say, Harlan, there’s something about you that’s bothering me. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
His heart sank a bit although she smiled.
“What is it?”
“Your hair. It’s still dry.” She giggled. “Guess I’ll have to fix it.”
She dove forward, slapping the water hard, so it hit Harlan’s head in sharp waves. She didn’t stop, and Harlan, surprised, lunged after Edie, grabbing her bare waist. Her muscles tightened as she fought him off, splashing and laughing in a high voice. Harlan held on, feeling as if he had caught something beautiful and wild, and there, she pushed her hip against him. She smoothed her lips in a flirty smile.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you to do something like that,” she said.
Harlan was so happy, he let her go, and then he wished he hadn’t because he wanted to touch her. She stayed away by an arm’s length, giggling. Her eyes shined above the water.
“You got me,” he told her.
“Yeah, I did.”
In the distance, thunder shook against the hills. Both looked in that direction.
“I think we better get back,” he said.
“Uh-huh.”
Harlan followed her to the river’s edge, where rain fell over them in cold sheets. Some hail mixed in. Thunder came harder and closer. Edie ran ahead, but Harlan couldn’t keep up. She turned and waved. He wanted to chase after her, but he couldn’t.
“See you soon,” she shouted.
A Real Hard Time
The next morning, Edie took a short cut along a rough dirt road to Conwell’s main village, where fine old homes were clustered near the church, town hall, and school. The route toward Amber’s camp was on the left, but she needed to take care of some business first, so she made a right.
The Conwell General Store was only a mile away, and she went through the front screen door before she changed her mind. She glanced around at the nearly empty store. Her timing was good.
She swept past Vera, who made an awful face, to the deli counter, where Fred handed a package to a woman. Edie held back when she recognized the preacher’s wife, but Fred noticed her, and the woman did, too. A table of old-timers turned to see as well.
Edie was embarrassed standing in the aisle, so she went to the dairy case, waiting, and the preacher’s wife gave her a stony stare before she left. Fred kept his head down as he put a slab of lunchmeat away. He took his time.
“How are you, Fred?”
The soft spot near his right eye twitched.
“Not so good, Edie. Marie’s been real upset. She hasn’t been coming to the store.”
“I didn’t come to make things harder. I’m on my way to get Amber from camp, and I was hoping you had my last paycheck.”
Fred squeezed his brow.
“Vera was supposed to mail it to you.”
“Vera.” Edie spoke louder then regretted it. “Fred, I didn’t get anything in the mail.”
“You didn’t? Strange. I asked her twice.”
Edie eyed Vera, who pretended to ignore what was happening at the deli counter.
“Could you ask her again? Please.”
Fred left instead for the office and returned after several minutes. He clutched an envelope.
“I found this in the desk drawer. I’m sorry. I thought she sent it.”
Edie nodded as she shoved the envelope in her purse.
“I hope you both know how sorry I am about what happened to Walker. I didn’t realize how bad off he was until I got there. Really.”
Fred bowed his head.
“I didn’t either. I failed my son.”
Edie’s breath came in short stutters.
“Walker wasn’t an easy person to understand.” She paused. “You and Marie don’t want me around. That’s okay. Please, don’t punish Amber for anything I did.”
Fred wiped a tear. Edie knew Marie ran that family. She was the one who tried to talk Gil out of marrying her. Edie and her family weren’t good enough. Marie didn’t seem to mind Sharon, whose father was a truck driver, marrying Walker, but then again, she didn’t pay much attention to what her other son did.
The Sweet Spot Page 20