Blame the Car Ride

by Marie F. Martin

  Her head tipped a little to one side, and she smiled. “Maybe you should drink some of that nutrition you’re feeding the roses. The bushes are lush.”

  “You’re saying I’m not lush?”

  “You’re becoming a scrawny old woman.”

  “Good to see you, Edgy.”

  “Okay, I get it. You’ve called off your manhunt, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go do fun things. There’s bingo at Millie’s out near Spencer Lake tonight. Wanna go?”

  I couldn’t think of one thing fun about sitting in a roomful of old people hoping to match random letters and numbers on a score card. At least a crossword puzzle had some challenge to it.

  “Will it make you happy?” I asked.

  “It’s payback.”

  “I owe you?”

  “Pick me up at six.”

  “Fred thinks this is a good idea?”

  “That’s why you’re driving. He figures you’ll get me home at a decent hour. His words, not mine.” She wandered partway to the corner of the house, then turned back and called, “If you have to know, Fred is upset with me for arguing with Lester again. Over the fence this time.”

  Then I lost sight of her. Thankfully, she appeared to be going home.

  Bingo? Edgy had vowed not to gamble on pool. Now this? If she got a thrill in trying to win back the money it cost to play, something was still wrong.

  What on earth was prompting her to go? “Stop it, Corinne,” I muttered. “Maybe she just needs to get out and about.” Now here I was talking to myself. I shook my head and dug around the next rose bush. As the claw sank deep into the rich black soil, concern for her lingered in my mind. A breeze ruffled the bushes. Leaves and red petals drifted to the ground. I mixed them into the soil to let nature feed itself.

  I had no more than finished the next bush when angry voices carried from the street. Edgy? I dropped the claw and scurried around the house.

  Across the road and near Edgy’s yard, she stood toe to toe with Lester. Her fists were jabbed onto her hips, and her loud sass matched his swear words calling her a meddling bitch among other more damning words. I was afraid he might hit her.

  “Stop it!” I rushed across the street.

  Lester jerked toward me. “Better tell your friend to shut the hell up and mind her own damned business.”

  Edgy drew herself up haughty and tall. “You bloody well deserve to get caught. I feel damn sorry for your wife, and I hope she finds out and takes everything you have.”

  “Edgy.” I grabbed her arm. “This isn’t helping.”

  She looked down her nose at me. “I hate—”

  “Stop it! Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her along as she threw curse words over her shoulder at Lester’s retreating back. She trembled and angry red blotches colored her neck. Spittle hung in the corner of her mouth. I feared she might break free of my grip, but she hustled along beside me.

  Edgy unlocked her front door, stepped inside, and barred me from entering. “Like I said, I’ll see you at six. I’m sorry you saw that.” She left me staring at her closed door.

  If she expected me to simply go home as if nothing had happened, she was sorely mistaken. I stomped around her house and through the backyard gate. Whirly Dog almost knocked me over in his excitement. I patted him and scratched behind his ears, calming myself at the same time.

  I let myself in through the kitchen doorway.

  Edgy sat on the living room sofa, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face, arms wrapped around herself.

  “Edgy,” I said softly.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes and nose with the palms of her trembling hands. “I didn’t mean to lose control. I fight for it all the time.”

  “You sure gave him a tongue lashing,” I chuckled. Her temper was in check. No sense stirring it up again. “Why don’t you go lie down for a while? I’ll see you tonight.”

  She rose, crossed into the kitchen, took a pill bottle from the cupboard above the sink, and swallowed a couple of capsules. I guessed it was acetaminophen, but who knew with the mood she was in. She passed silently by me and headed up the stairway.

  Nothing for it but to go home. I hesitated, not sure Edgy should be alone. On the way past the cupboard, I opened the door and read the label on the pill bottle. Oxycontin. I closed the cupboard door without a sound and left the way I had come, now knowing why Edie’s moods shifted so dramatically. She was addicted to opioids. I didn’t know what to do or how to help. The only thing I knew for sure was that her secret was safe with me.

  I settled on her back steps to pay attention to Whirly Dog. Edgy would like that. I tossed a tennis ball and hugged the dog for a good ten minutes before I said, “Goodbye, Whirly. Be a good doggie.” I just didn’t know what more I could do, and I honestly was tired of worrying and being depressed over Edgy and her problems. I headed back to my rose bush and picked up the gardening claw to put it away.

  “Hello,” a voice called.

  I turned to see who was now invading my yard.

  Dean Hyatt approached with the easy gait of someone not aware of how intimidating he appeared.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see. How did you—”

  “Mrs. Cooper, I need to talk with you.” His tone came across solemn and a little mysterious.

  I didn’t expect that, either. My guard rose a notch. “About?”

  He looked around the yard. “Is there somewhere we can sit?”

  No way was I inviting him into my home. “There are chairs on the front porch.”

  He thumbed toward the potting shed. “What about the bench over there? Looks cool under the willow.”

  I wanted to tell him to leave but was curious and led the way. I removed my gloves, turned on a water spigot near the potting shed, and offered him the hose.

  The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled with amusement, then he drank deep and long.

  I drank too, needing to rehydrate from working in the sunny rose garden and to be ready for what might be a draining conversation with a good-looking man I barely knew. I sat on one end of the cedar bench and nodded at the other. He removed his Stetson and sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and rested the hat on his knee. We were three feet apart . . . or thereabouts.

  I tamed my unease at sharing the bench by glancing toward the back porch of my next-door neighbors. Ida Praveck and her husband were resting in their lounges, like they usually did on a warm afternoon. She waved. I waved back. Good, they’d be keeping an eye on me. Nothing to do now but plunge in, “How did you find me?”

  “Looked you up in the phone book and found out you lived on the same block as Fred and Edwina Brewster. Edgy told me your name and hers at the church.”

  “I think you better explain what you want.”

  “What I’m about to tell you will come as a shock, so I’ll just say it. My niece wants to locate her birth mother, who is Edwina Udall, married name Brewster.”

  I gasped. My hands, legs, and stomach quivered as I tried to regain control over the stunning bombshell that Edgy’s daughter might be found. I stared into Dean’s steady brown eyes until he blinked.

  “I understand this is a shock,” he said.

  The words I never meant to share flowed out, “It’s much more. Edgy was so terribly hurt over what happened to her.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  “Why are you talking to me instead of Edgy?”

  “I tried to, but her husband stopped me at the door and wouldn’t let me see her. Acted like I was some con artist or something. He didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

  Dean leaned back comfortably on the bench as if we were talking about something ordinary. This was anything but, and he’d better have a good explanation soon or I would drag him across the street and let Fred handle this. Dean sighed. “I know the baby was taken at birth because of mental health problems of the mother.”

  I lifted a brow. “And you
know that how?”

  “From the adoption records my sister had in her safety deposit box.”

  “Papers in a bank box might tell some of a story, but not all.”

  “Look,” he said. “I figured I better know about Mrs. Brewster before I tell my niece. You’re her friend. Is she stable enough to handle learning about her daughter?”

  Did I know? “How can I answer that?”

  His shoulders moved like he was relieving a strain. “I don’t want to upset her husband and make life any harder for her than it is. Does he know about the baby?”

  “Of course, he does.”

  “Will you go with me? She might be more at ease if you’re there.”

  I studied him and couldn’t believe his gall. “She has to be forewarned that the meeting would be about her daughter. You can’t just drop it on her.”

  Dean’s jaw tightened in the same helpless way youthful inmates had when I pushed food they didn’t like into their cells. They had to eat what was on their plates. Like it or not, Dean had to be satisfied with my decisions about Edgy. Why was I thinking about those inmates? It had been over forty-five years since I had worked at the county jail. Crazy. Maybe because I’d been on guard ever since going to the tavern—one misstep had led to another, and I had vowed to be more careful. I had caused enough trouble.

  Dean’s next words pulled me back sharply. “Edgy didn’t seem so private when she took fifty dollars off a guy and showed off around a pool table.” The same disgust he’d had at the dance hall darkened his expression for only a moment. His next words sounded sincere instead of judgmental. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m defensive for my sister. I can’t understand why my niece wants to find her birth mother. She has a good family who loves her.”

  The daughter brought a whole new dimension to the decision. Should I or should I not help?

  He added, “I need to know if my niece will be rebuffed or accepted.”

  Normally, I’d tell him to go fly a kite, but I couldn’t stand in the way of Edgy knowing her long-lost daughter. It was a gift so rare nothing should spoil it. But how to go about it? I scrutinized Dean, sitting in the warm sun on a bench in my yard, looking sincere and honest. But I also remembered his impatience with me at the tavern and at the church. I had aggravated him, and yet he had sought me out to help his niece.

  “I need to know more about you and your niece before I can agree to help.”

  Dean remained quiet for a bit, looking out across the yard as if sorting out what I needed to know. His voice came strong with a touch of pride. “I own a ranch on the South Platte River near Weldona, Colorado. My grandpa’s homestead. It passed to Dad and then to me. I’m telling you so you will know I’m a rancher from a long line of ranchers. We’re of the land. My sister went to Juilliard for music studies after she graduated from our local college. There, she met an Englishman. They married and settled in his home town in Northumberland along the border with Scotland.”

  “That’s a long way from Colorado.”

  “Made it hard, especially after they adopted a child. Eventually, their marriage ended and my sister returned home to raise her girl. Claimed she needed to keep her safe. No place better than our spread to do so.” He scratched behind his ear.

  “What is her name?”

  “Ruth. A nurse where she was born listed it in the paperwork. My sister liked it and didn’t change it. I called her Ruthie.” His expression softened. “She is now forty-two.”

  I detected the love in his voice. “She is the same age as my daughter. So, what happened to your sister?”

  “Cancer. After she died, Ruth became obsessed with finding her birth mother. We’ve been looking for a long time. She can’t seem to let it go.”

  There was no way out of it. Edgy had to know. If I didn’t help him, I’d have to live with the fact that I knew about her daughter and she didn’t. I couldn’t do that.

  “I’m thinking it might be better for Edgy to talk with you alone. Fred is so protective, and she’d probably be more open if I wasn’t listening.”

  He fiddled with the brim of his hat, running a finger and thumb around it. “Thank you.”

  “Edgy and I are going to Millie’s this evening to play bingo. It’d be a neutral place for another accidental meeting. What do you think?”

  “After seeing me at the church, she won’t be surprised if I speak to her.” He stood and put on his hat. “How do I find it?”

  “Go north on Highway 93 through Whitefish and keep going. You’ll pass Spencer Lake and take a left onto KM Ranch Road. It’s about three miles and up on a hill deep in the trees. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”

  His confident stride to the street was the same as when he arrived, seemingly unaffected by what he’d told me.

  I remained on the bench, hand over my mouth and staring at nothing, trying to absorb the news about Edgy’s daughter, trying to understand her deep desire to find her birth mother. It had to be a natural wish. Most of us would want to. And I couldn’t help but wonder what the daughter would be like. Maybe finding her daughter would grant Edgy some peace.

  Some of the inertia of the last few days reclaimed my body, and I couldn’t move from the bench if I wanted to. Bees droned in the hydrangeas. A breeze cooled my hot neck when I lifted the back of my hair and closed my eyes. A house finch trilled from the neighbor’s blue spruce. His mate answered from my telephone wire.

  “Are you okay?” Ida called from her back porch.

  I gave her a thumbs-up sign, and she disappeared inside her home.

  I lingered on the bench, knowing I could deal with Edgy and Dean at Millie’s but worried about whether Edgy would act crazy or calm when she learned of her daughter. She’d been so distraught when she’d told me how the authorities had whisked away her newborn without letting her see the baby. The horror of it gripped me, and I understood the physical and emotional pain that had left her empty and barren. They actually believed a mother would suffer less not seeing her baby. Sometimes the stupidity in good intentions was mind-boggling.

  I finally set aside my stewing on the injustice in our world and returned to worrying about how Edgy would handle the fact that Dean had been watching us at the Blue Moon and the church because he was the adoptive uncle to the baby she had never seen. She could just as easily go to pieces as feel relief at learning her daughter was okay and wanted to see her.

  I thumped the side of my fist on my thigh. That damned Dean must’ve been following us for some time. He had just lied to my face about finding my address in the phone book.

  Or did he lie?

  I wasn’t sure. Knotting my hands together, I tried to control my mounting frustration. I had to make a decision about Dean. He was the one connection to Edgy’s lost daughter.

  The growl and metal scrape of the city garbage truck picking up the trash can carried from the alley. The noise distracted me, and I forced my fingers to relax. Overreacting would not help, and I knew it. I closed my eyes to Dean’s possible lie. It didn’t matter in comparison to a mother’s need to know her daughter. Edgy’s pain due to not knowing had led to her risky behavior, alcohol abuse, drugs, gambling and who knew what else.

  I was afraid of making a mistake that would harm her.

  Fred would surely know what to do. I moved to stand up.

  “You look like you’re lost in thought.”

  Randal?

  I swiveled toward the alley. My yard was becoming like Grand Central Station, and I didn’t have the patience for interruptions right now.

  He’d parked behind the garage and come right in, closing the gate behind him.

  “I didn’t hear you drive up,” I said, fighting the urge to fly into his arms for reassurance like I used to do with my husband.

  Randal cleared his throat. “I had errands in town. Thought I’d drop by to see if you’d gotten over the shock of the accident. You were pretty shaken.”

  “Running into the moose was terrifying, but I am sorry for giving y
ou a hard time.”

  “Not a problem.” Randal sat on the bench beside me. He wasn’t touching me but was closer than Dean had been.

  “How’s your arm?” I asked.

  “Still sore. Had a devil of a time with the owner of the van. He wanted me to pay up front for the repairs. We’re letting the insurance companies fight it out.”

  “Randal, you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

  He frowned slightly, then teased, “You were sitting here daydreaming when I opened the gate.”

  My defenses rose, but as I looked at his warm, honest smile, I couldn’t be mad. “Edgy and her husband are expecting me.”

  Randal remained sitting longer than I wanted him to. Finally, he rose and looked rather sadly down at me. “Never heard the name Edgy before,” he said.

  “It’s short for Edwina.”

  “Brewster?” Randal tensed, cords in his neck tightening.

  “You know her?”

  Red spots colored his pale skin near his cheekbones. “I’ve known her for a long time. Loved her English accent when we first met. I didn’t know she was a friend of yours.”

  “She lives across the street and down a few houses. We’ve been neighbors forever.”

  “Neighbors aren’t always friends,” he said before retreating through the back gate.

  I called after him. “Is getting away from people next door the reason you moved out to the fields of the lower valley?” I loved teasing him about his sprawling ranch-style house.

  “You know me too well,” he said without turning and then waved the back of his hand at me just before disappearing into his car.

  My brow knotted over the strange visit, but I had no time to puzzle about it and added it to the list of things I’d ask the empty side of my bed tonight. Even after three years, Mel always seemed just a thought away.

  I hurried to Edgy’s not knowing how I was going to talk with Fred without her knowing about it.

  Of all things, before I dared cross the tree-lined street to Edgy’s, I had to wait for a UPS van and a city maintenance truck to whiz by. They were followed by an old codger dawdling in a Ford Fairlane. My panicky need to talk with Fred pushed me to run across the street in front of an approaching SUV. I hopped up on the curb.