“I’ll talk with Marie, but I don’t know if she’ll listen,” he said. “Truth is she’s taking it real hard right now, real hard.”
Edie understood her mother-in-law was drinking and crying in her room. She did the same after Gil died. Amber’s birth helped pull her from her grief.
“Amber loves you so much. She’ll want to see you both when she gets back. Like before.”
Fred’s head was down.
“I understand.”
“Please, don’t forget. Bye, Fred.”
Edie was ready to leave. Nosy Vera watched her exchange with Fred from her spot in the store. Her face was twisted as if she tasted something bitter. Edie’s plan was to walk by her as if she weren’t there. She spun back when Fred called her name.
“What are you going to do for work?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll figure out something. Don’t you worry about me and Amber.”
Minutes later, Edie groaned when she drove by the town commons. The spots in front of the crosses for Gil and the other soldiers were untended and weedy. The wreath her in-laws placed there Memorial Day leaned against the boulder, its flowers brittle and dry. Marie was the one who took care of this spot, coming once or twice a week with jugs of water. She often brought Amber.
Edie stopped her car on the edge of the road. She knelt on the ground, pulling the grass and weeds around the geraniums her mother-in-law planted. She broke off the dead blossoms. The plants lasted until September, when Marie brought mums, one for each cross. In the spring, tulips and daffodils bloomed. Marie said the other families would be offended if she only took care of her son’s cross.
She removed the ribbon with Gil’s name and stuck it in the pocket of her dress. She was trying to take apart the wreath when the wrecker from the Conwell Garage pulled behind her car. Buddy Crocker dropped from the driver’s seat, and his fat face frowned as he strutted toward her. She decided to stow the whole thing in the trunk of her car and deal with it later.
Buddy stood at attention a few feet away. He wore his blue mechanic’s uniform.
“What are you doing, Edie?”
She froze.
“I’m cleaning up. I’m taking this dried-up wreath outta here.” The flower petals crumbled onto her dress. “Seems Marie didn’t get a chance to do it.”
“She tell you to do this? I seriously doubt it.”
Buddy circled her car. He clicked his tongue as he poked a finger through a rusty spot in the fender.
“You know, Edie, I keep wondering what happened between you and Walker at the lake that day.” He focused one eye on her. “My gut says you’re leaving somethin’ out. Somethin’ important. Huh? Am I right?”
Edie’s hand closed on the dead carnations. She didn’t speak.
“You’ve made a lot of trouble for my family. My sister. Those boys of hers are gonna grow up without a daddy. My brother, Jim’s upset. It’s gotten them all worked up, even Jim’s boy. He was crazy about his uncle. Maybe you should’ve thought of that before.” He shook a finger at her. “Anyway, I’m planning to see about reopening this case. Right now, I’m wondering if you had anything to do with the bartender’s death. Maybe Walker wasn’t alone.”
Her lips quivered.
“I had nothing to do with that poor man’s death. I was home that night. I tried to help Walker, but I couldn’t.”
“Is that your story?” He crossed his arms. “By the way, the chief told me all about you threatening to call the state cops on my nephew.”
“Your nephew shouldn’t have done what he did, and he shouldn’t have lied about it either,” Edie said. “All the chief had to do was search his car. The boy still had the egg cartons in the back seat. The chief told my Pop afterward.”
Edie wanted to run to her car and drive away, but she worried what Buddy could do to stop her. A trooper from the state police told her they were done with their investigation into Walker’s case. The trooper said it was a tragedy. She was lucky to be spared.
She looked away when Harlan’s pickup slowed and parked along the road. She nearly cried when he hobbled toward her.
“Edie, what’s going on? Did your car break down?” Harlan stood near Buddy. “My name’s Harlan Doyle. I live next door to Edie. Is there a problem here?”
Buddy kept his arms crossed. His bullet-eyes were stuck on Harlan.
“I know who you are. Edie and I were just having a talk. Private stuff. I don’t believe it concerns you.”
“If it involves Edie, it does. She’s my friend and neighbor.”
Edie was surprised at the edge to Harlan’s voice.
“I was only checking on things,” Buddy told him.
“Checking?”
“Yeah, it’s part of my job.”
“At the garage?”
“No, no, no. I’m on the police department. A sergeant. I was just checking.”
Harlan nodded.
“You said that. Edie has to get her daughter from camp. You wouldn’t want her to be late and make her little girl worried, would you? Let me bring Edie to her car, and if you want, we can talk some more.” Harlan’s eyes dropped to Edie. His voice softened. “What’s this you have? I can take it to the dump for you. Just leave it there. You need to get going.”
Harlan walked her to the car.
“Thanks,” she told him.
A Sad Story
Edie tried not to cry when she swooped Amber into her arms.
“Let me down, Ma, so I can show you stuff.”
“Okay, okay, I just missed you so much,” Edie said.
Amber squinted up at her mother.
“Where’s Aunt Leona? Is she in the car?”
“No, no, she didn’t come. I wanted to see you by myself.” She touched her daughter’s hair. “Where are we going first?”
Amber clutched her mother’s hand. She guided her to the dining hall, set off the ground on piers and screened. Picnic tables were arranged in rows inside.
“That’s where I sit with my friends.” She pointed to a table. “The food’s not like you make. But we had ice cream every night for supper.”
“Every night, really?”
Her in-laws paid for Amber to go to camp. They didn’t want her to be without. They did the same for field trips, winter coats, and the extras she needed. Edie wondered if they would continue to be so generous, given what happened.
“I’ll take you to the waterfront,” Amber said.
They followed a path through tall pines to the shoreline of the lake. Canoes were turned upside down on the beach.
“This is a real nice spot,” Edie said.
Amber stood on her toes and pointed toward a wooden raft off shore.
“I can swim all the way there without stopping.” She spun, bright-eyed toward her mother. “Wait till you see what I made you, Poppy, and Aunt Leona. Grandma and Grandpa, too. Can we stop at their house on our way back? Or will they still be at the store?”
Edie studied Amber. She weighed what she could say to her daughter. How much would a seven-year-old understand? She gestured toward a bench set in deep shade.
“Let’s go there, sweetie. I have some things to tell you.”
“But I want to show you the boathouse.”
“Maybe later. It’s important. Something happened while you were at camp. I want you to hear it from me. It’s a sad, sad story about your Uncle Walker.”
Back At The Do
An old coot sat hunched over his shot glass at the Do-Si-Do. The man was one of Pop’s drinking buddies, and he gave Edie a toothless grin when she said hello.
Edie took a stool nearby. She checked the bar behind her. The rest of the drinkers, a middle-aged couple and guys off early from work, were scattered about the large room. One of the men put money in the jukebox, and Pop’s pal growled
when jangling music blared from the speakers.
It was late Friday afternoon, so the place would get busy soon with drinkers celebrating the end of their workweek and couples out for dinner. A sign said a band would be playing at nine. Edie used to be a Friday night regular, up for drinking, dancing, and a few laughs after dropping Amber at Aunt Leona’s. Walker would be here with his workers, and he’d send her coded signals or punch in her favorite tunes on the juke. Sometimes they danced, keeping it all respectable.
The last time she came here was after she quit the team. She and her aunt toasted each other.
She sighed. A lot has happened since.
Edie heard the familiar voices of Walker’s crew. She stared straight ahead, hoping they wouldn’t notice her. She wasn’t planning to stick around much longer. She just wanted a drink to calm herself after another failed job hunt. It was her third day at it, and she was mulling her bad luck when the Do’s owner, Mike, came from the kitchen.
“Well, well, well, look who’s here. Gee, honey, I haven’t seen you in a real long time. Must be months. How you been?” He winked as he reached inside the beer cooler. “Here. This one’s on me.”
“Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it.”
Edie glanced over her shoulder when loud laughter erupted behind her. One of Walker’s crew, George, held his bottle of beer aloft in a salute. Her fingers fluttered in a weak wave.
“Don’t mind those guys,” Mike said. “They’re just horsing around.”
Mike bent over the counter, so his head was close to Edie’s.
“Listen Edie. That thing with Walker was a fuckin’ tragedy. It’s the only way to put it. I still can’t believe he killed that guy.” He grimaced. “I thought I knew the man. I mean he came in here all the time. He was of my best customers. But, honey, he brought it on himself. Anyone who says different is a fuckin’ liar.”
Edie nodded.
“Thanks.”
“Did you go to his funeral?”
“No, I was at the wake.”
“I forgot. I heard about what happened there. It’s a good thing you didn’t go to the funeral. It was a fuckin’ circus.” His head swayed back and forth. “The way the preacher talked you would’ve thought Walker was a saint. The preacher went on and on about what a great husband and father he supposedly was. How his parents were so damn proud of him. It wasn’t the Walker I knew.”
Edie winced. One of Pop’s pals, who went to the funeral, told him all about it. The preacher said Walker was led by a temptation he couldn’t resist. He was a decent man, a family man. Pop got so caught up in the story a vein on his forehead bulged. She ordered him to stop. She was going to ask the bartender to do the same.
She told him, “I heard about the funeral. You’re right. I’m glad I didn’t go.”
“Sorry, Edie, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s okay. I just don’t wanna talk about Walker.”
He reached for his pack of smokes beneath the counter.
“Tell me what brings you here today.”
“I’m hunting for a job.”
Edie pulled a paper from her purse. She had written every business in Conwell and the towns around she thought would hire people. She crossed out the places she went. She went today to a hardware store, a school bus company, and gravel yard. Not one had an opening, or so they said. She went to a propane business in Butterfield, which advertised in the paper for an office manager. She thought she had a shot, given her experience at the store, but the owner told her he’d never hire her because he was distant kin to the St. Claires. He wasn’t even nice about it. She hurried from the place, embarrassed for not remembering.
“You try Nelson’s Potato Farm? Harvest’s gonna start soon. R.J.’s always desperate for pickers.”
“I didn’t bother. His wife is Marie’s niece.”
“Shit, I forgot. Jesus, I dunno if there’s anybody in town not related to somebody. Well, not the newcomers.”
The local possibilities were dwindling. Tomorrow she’d try a sawmill and a job waiting tables at a joint in Tyler. The bartender read her list.
“Edie, I wish I had a job to offer you. It’s too bad you didn’t come in a coupla days sooner. I just hired a girl.” He swiped the bar with a wet rag. “Maybe she won’t last. I pay minimum wage, but you can make a lot on tips, especially on the weekends. I’ll keep you in mind if she doesn’t work out.”
Edie nodded. She didn’t want to be serving drunks she knew, but it was a job nonetheless. The money she got from the government for Gil wasn’t enough.
Most ads in the paper were for jobs in the city, working in stores or offices, and she worried about leaving her girl alone so much. Since Amber came home from camp, she tried hard to find things for her daughter to do. They played poker with Leona and visited Pop at the dump. She took her shopping and to eat at the breakfast place in Tyler. They swam at the river, sometimes meeting up with Harlan if it was late in the afternoon. Amber showed him how well she swam. Soon she would be back in school.
Amber kept asking about her grandparents and why they hadn’t seen her. They must know she’s back from camp. Edie said her grandparents needed time.
“I called Grandma today. I let it ring and ring and ring, but she didn’t answer. I called the store, and they said she wasn’t there. Maybe she’s sick. I should go see her,” Amber told Edie yesterday when she brought her home from Leona’s.
Mike wiped the bar with a rag.
Edie gave him a smile.
“Thanks for the beer,” she told him.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Leona’s watching Amber.”
She slid off her stool and walked toward the door. She stopped when someone tugged her arm and swung her around as if they were dancing. It was George, from Walker’s crew.
“Where you goin’ in such a rush, Edie? Got time enough to talk with Mike, but not us, eh? Sit down and have a drink with us.”
“Not tonight. My little girl’s waiting.” She tried to snatch her arm away, but George held his grip. “Hey, let go.”
“I will when you sit down with us.”
Edie could tell he was in a drinker’s good mood. Nothing would deter him, so she took the empty chair beside George, who signaled the waitress for another round. George worked for Walker almost as long as Dean. In his forties, his hair, which hung to his shoulders, was dark with some gray mixed in. He was tight and lean from work, and many women would say he was handsome. Walker always trusted Dean because they grew up together. George was another story. He used to say George wanted whatever he had.
The other men at the table stretched back in their chairs, laughing at each other’s jokes. One guy made a wise crack to the waitress carrying longneck bottles in both hands, and they all howled when she told them she heard better and dirtier at another table.
George looked directly at Edie. She took a sip. She hadn’t eaten since this morning, and she was getting a buzz from the beer. She should have been home an hour ago. Her aunt might be worried. She checked the payphone near the men’s toilet, but someone used it. She would make this fast.
“Where’s Dean?”
George frowned.
“Dean? You didn’t hear? He got shit-canned. Think old Dean brought back way too many bad memories for Sharon. She’s running the business. She wanted to put her brother-in-law in charge, but the guy doesn’t know shit about building.” He pointed to his chest. “I’m foreman now. How about that?”
She smiled uneasily.
“That’s good, George. Walker said you were one of the best. Do you ever see Dean?”
“He comes in here. Doesn’t say too much. Looks like he’s hitting the sauce pretty hard.” His fingers slapped the table. “Let’s not talk about Dean. He’s a real sorry pain in the ass. We’re here for a good time. Right, boys?”
“Nice seeing you guys.”
George leaned back, coaxing her to stay, but she said no.
Outside, Edie swore when she realized the front left tire of her car was flat. She didn’t remember it going soft on her drive, and besides the tires were new used ones Pop put on this spring. She opened the trunk and swore again. The spare was missing. She vaguely remembered it leaning against the porch steps. Pop must have taken it out when he rummaged in the trunk for a toolbox. She slammed the lid and marched toward the Do.
Edie kept her back to the men’s room door as she dialed Pop’s number, letting it ring and ring, but he didn’t answer. When she called Leona, her aunt told her everything was fine on her end.
“I’m stuck at the Do. My car’s got a flat, and the spare’s at home,” she shouted over the barroom’s noise.
Edie felt a tap on her shoulder.
George said in her ear, “I’ll give you a lift home.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll wait for Pop.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s no trouble at all. It’ll only take me a few minutes to drop you. If you want, we can bring back the spare and change the tire. Go ahead. Tell your aunt.”
He stood beside her, waiting, so Edie told Leona she had a ride. She followed George to his table, where he informed the rest of the crew what he was doing. He downed the last of his beer and placed his hand on the small of her back. He chuckled when she said “Hey!” and bucked forward. People stared, but she kept going. George was right behind her.
“Truck’s over here.” He went for her arm, but she dodged him. “Jesus, what’s the rush?”
Edie climbed into the truck, and George put it in gear, lowering the volume on the radio while some cowboy singer crooned about cheating love.
The Sweet Spot Page 21