by Vicky Jones
“Hi. Look, I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I was rude to you before and all you were trying to do was help me… I’ve been working for Frank lately and… well, I don’t usually dress like this and, well, I was just embarrassed."
Lucy wrapped her trembling fingers around a loose lock of hair, desperate to see Shona’s hard stare soften. The calm blue eyes she’d gotten used to seeing these past few months of their friendship somehow didn’t look right being so cold.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Lucy,” Shona replied.
Lucy smiled. “So… am I forgiven?” She leaned against the doorframe.
“Nothing to forgive.”
“Alright. Well, that’s good then.” Lucy exhaled. “I guess I’d better get back. But thank you, Shona.”
“For what?”
“For not slamming the door in my face.” Lucy smiled again as she attempted the joke. It worked. She saw the merest glimpse of softness spread across Shona’s beautiful face.
“It was tempting. But I already busted it a little, slamming it myself earlier.”
Lucy looked down at the door hinge nearest the ground, seeing that the old wood had splintered. The lock had also come away from the frame.
Admitting defeat at not being asked in, she sighed. “I’d better go, Frank will be home soon, but I just wanted to apologize. G'night, Shona.”
“Wait…I’ll run you home.” Shona grabbed her jacket and led Lucy to the truck, encouraged by a nod of permission from a just-as-worried Dorothy.
Chapter 12
Frank prowled around his mother’s kitchen, the beer bottle in his hand belying the early hour. Pacing up and down, he finally settled in a dining chair, his eyes fixed on the wall clock as it ticked to 8:30 a.m.
“What the hell are you doin’ here so early?” Gloria recoiled, her satin pink nightgown billowing behind her as she stopped dead in her tracks.
“Dad’s comin’ home. Another bus’s due in town at twelve today, and another one due tomorrow, so the flyer said. That’s two in a week, so he’s gotta be on one of them,” Frank replied, his lip curling as he reached into his jeans pocket to pull out his lighter as his mother held her long black cigarette holder out.
Gloria breathed in a lungful of smoke, face unreadable underneath the thick layer of make-up. Her bright pink lipstick stained the end of her cigarette holder as she pulled it out of her mouth and leaned against the counter.
“Honey. We’ve talked about this. Your father…” She paused, trying, not for the first time, to broach the subject delicately with her son. “He’s not interested in comin’ back here.”
“I got a letter yesterday,” he replied, smirking. “Yeah, that’s right. Said he can’t wait to see how I’ve made a success of myself. He remembered everythin’ I’d told him about the bar. I knew he would,” he rambled on, hardly noticing his mother’s demeanor change.
“Frank, are you sure that’s what the letter said?” Gloria asked, wiping her brow as she took another long drag on her cigarette.
Frank looked at her. “Well, not those exact words. It just said he wanted me to get on and make somethin’ of my life. But he meant so he had somethin’ to come back for. I just know it.”
Gloria blew out a large plume of smoke and shook her head. “It’s been nearly four years now since Korea, Frank. Buses are comin’ back all the time and he’s not on any of them.” She paused. “I think he meant what he said in your letter, son. He wants you to stop waitin’ around thinkin’ he’s gonna walk back through that door. He’s not, Frank.”
“Well, at least I ain’t given up on him.” He snarled. “Look at you all dolled up like Marilyn Monroe. Tryin’ to prove you can do better, huh?” He rose up out of his seat after catching a glimpse of George coming down the hallway and into the kitchen. Striding out of the kitchen, Frank eyeballed George as he barged past him and slammed the door.
“He ain’t a child no more. ‘Bout time he grew up and acted like a man.” George, dressed in his smartest gray flannel suit, straightened his tie and smoothed down the front of his crisp white shirt.
“You’re right, honey. I know you’re right. But the only one around here that gets the vaguest amount of respect out of Frank is his Uncle Harry. But I think even he’s gettin’ sick of him now.” Gloria stubbed her cigarette out and set the holder down on the counter. Pouring two cups of coffee, she turned to face George, who waved away the cup.
“I gotta run, those shipping accounts won’t do themselves.” He straightened his belt and leaned over to Gloria, who smiled and turned her cheek towards him to receive her usual kiss goodbye.
Frank almost kicked down the door of the bar as he unlocked it at 11 a.m. On the mat inside was a pile of letters, one standing out more than the others. After opening it, he read the first five lines, then crumpled it in his fist.
“What’s the matter with you?” Lucy asked, appearing behind him.
“Nothin’. How comes you ain’t at college?” Frank replied, frowning.
“Study day,” Lucy said. “Who’s that from?”
“It’s a warnin’ letter from the council. We’ve had some complaints. Says it’s been lookin’ a mess since New Year’s and that we need to clean up the joint,” he replied.
“Or what?”
“I’ll deal with it. You don’t need to worry. And don’t you go telling the other girls either. I don’t want them flippin’ out and goin’ elsewhere for jobs. We need them bringin’ the customers in.” Softening his glare at her when he noticed the fear in her eyes, he leaned in to kiss her. “I got some things to do here. Why don’t you go treat yourself to a chocolate shake and some pie or somethin’,” he said, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a dollar coin.
“OK. If you’re sure?” Lucy said, taking it from him.
As Lucy left the bar, she looked across the street to Wreckers where Shona was leaning over a Ford pick-up. Smiling, she headed over.
“What’s eating you?”
Shona was rubbing a towel over her just-washed hands, staring at Lucy, who had wandered into Wreckers an hour earlier and sat on a tire the whole time hardly uttering a word.
“Huh?” Lucy’s face hardly even registered the question as she turned to look at Shona.
“You’ve been staring at that same poster for ten minutes now, and even I don’t find brake fluid that interesting.” She laughed as she threw the towel into the tiny sink in the corner of the workshop.
“Oh, was I? I was just thinking. Shona, do you know we only have twenty-five thousand days of life on this planet? If we’re lucky to make it to seventy, that is.” Lucy’s eyes shimmered.
Shona grinned. “When did you work that one out?”
“Last night. I’m over seven thousand days into my quota and I’ve done nothing with my life.”
“Well… what do you wanna do with it?” Shona asked, folding her arms.
“I don’t know. That’s the worst part of it. All I know is I ain’t happy with the math.” Lucy blew her cheeks out as she looked around the spotlessly tidy garage.
“Listen, I gotta run over to the store now and get some groceries, then take them back to Dorothy’s house. You wanna come with me? I mean, unless you gotta be around for Frank?”
“Sure,” Lucy interrupted, jumping up from the tire.
Stubbing out his cigarette and cursing the families who were hugging their loved ones as they hobbled off the bus, Frank seethed.
Casting his glance across the street, his frustration doubled when he saw his laughing girlfriend step out of the grocery store and walk over to a blue truck with Shona.
Lighting another cigarette, he jumped into his own truck, letting Shona drive to the end of the street before he set off.
“Where shall I put these?” Lucy asked as they arrived back at Dorothy’s house laden with two grocery bags each.
“On the counter, please,” Shona replied, resting her own bags by the sink. Dropping a bag of wood in its us
ual place by the stove, she crossed the kitchen back to where Lucy was standing. “Sorry, could I just…”
“Oh, sorry.” Lucy maneuvered her body to let Shona reach up over her to the shelf and pull the canister down. She watched as Shona took off the lid and popped Dorothy’s change inside. Realizing how close they were now standing to each other, Lucy took another awkward step aside.
“Damn, I always seem to be in your way, don’t I?” Lucy blushed as Shona lowered her arm from replacing the canister on the shelf.
“No problem,” Shona smiled back. “I’m making coffee. You want one?” she offered as she held the kettle underneath the thin trickle of water from the faucet.
“Yeah, if you got time?”
“Cream and sugar?” asked Shona, pulling out two of Dorothy’s best mugs from the cupboard.
“Both. Dorothy not here?”
“Yeah, she’ll be upstairs. She normally takes a nap around lunchtime.”
Shona passed Lucy her coffee mug and watched as she blew the steam off it.
“It’s good. Thank you,” she said after taking a sip.
“You're welcome. So how was Frank today?”
“Oh, he went out early this morning to his mom’s. Came back in a real ugly mood. He did give me a dollar to go get some breakfast, though, but I didn’t want to sit on my own so that’s why I came to bug you.” Lucy grinned.
“He won’t be happy with that. Then again, is that guy ever happy lately? He’s given Harry earache for something pretty much every day since Christmas. What’s the story with them anyway?”
“Frank doesn’t like the fact that in his mind the wrong brother went off to war and now he’s missing out on what he should have had from his father. Thinks Harry owes him somehow. Frank don’t seem to get that it’s not his uncle’s fault he busted his leg years back. And anyhow, he was too old to enlist, but that’s not a good enough reason for Frank either.”
A loud holler rang out from upstairs. “I’d better go see if she needs anything.” She put her cup down and ran up the stairs two at a time, holding onto the bannister as they shook with her movement.
Lucy smiled in admiration of Shona’s kind heart. Her fingernail tapped the rim of her coffee mug as her eyes floated across the layout of the kitchen. She noticed the tiny spots of oil on the towel that, no matter how hard Shona had scrubbed on the washboard, just would not come out. Including the two mugs Shona had used for their coffees, there were two cups, two dishes and two sets of cutlery all washed up on the drainer, ready for dinner later.
Lucy’s gaze travelled upwards over the shelf and landed on the canister. Before she processed what she was doing, she reached up, twisted off the lid and took a few of the bills from inside, stuffing them in her pocket. Hearing Shona’s footsteps returning, she replaced the lid, her fumbling fingers struggling as she popped the canister back on the shelf. With one huge step, Lucy moved to the other side of the kitchen and leaned against the counter, only seconds to spare before Shona’s blonde hair appeared around the doorframe.
“Forgot to get something from town. But I can get it after work. You all set?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Lucy replied, feeling a bead of sweat drip down the back of her neck.
Jumping back in the truck, Lucy swallowed hard as she leaned against the inside of the door and felt the bulge of the bills in her pocket, already regretting her decision.
Standing on the other side of the bushes outside Dorothy’s house, Frank glared at the blue truck.
“You’re spendin’ way too much time with that girl, Lucy,” he muttered to himself as he docked the third cigarette he’d smoked in the half hour he’d been watching the house.
Returning home that Monday evening after work, Shona felt an icy coolness in the usually cozy house. It was just after 6:30 p.m. when she found Dorothy sitting quietly in the kitchen, the canister open in front of her.
“Hi, you get some rest this afternoon? I got the cream you asked for. Drugstore guy said it’ll sooth that redness on your knee, but said to try and not wear that bandage too much. I don’t see as it helps none anyway, just stops the air getting to it. Oh my, you’ll never believe what happened at work this afternoon. Harry had this guy in who said his truck was making this clunking noise, so I offered to take a look, ‘cos my hands are smaller and what did we find in there? Damn raccoon asleep on the radiator. Jumped like his ass was on fire when he saw us.” Shona continued her tale as she busied herself around the kitchen, finding her and Lucy’s coffee mugs already washed and on the drainer.
“Shona, I need to ask you something… but I want you to tell me the truth,” the old lady began.
“OK,” Shona replied, sitting down in the chair opposite and placing her hands on her knees.
“I had seven dollars in bills and some change in this canister this morning. Then I took out two to give you for the groceries. Now all I have left in here are three quarters, a few dimes, and a button I thought I’d lost,” Dorothy began. She stared at Shona. “Five dollars missing.”
The moments that passed between them felt like hours.
“You sure? I don’t remember seeing that much in there.” Shona shook her head and looked down at the table, before the same thought struck her that had struck Dorothy when she’d opened the canister an hour earlier.
“Yes, I’m sure. I put a little in there each day from my other hiding place. I got a call this afternoon from an old friend saying that her sister had passed so I was going to get some flowers for her. To save myself from having to go back upstairs, I knew I had enough in here.” She tapped the canister with the tip of her fingernail. “But not so, it would seem.”
Shona swallowed. Would she? Her memory drifted back to the brief five minutes she’d left Lucy alone in the kitchen. Or was Dorothy mistaken? Thoughts spilled over themselves in Shona’s muddled head.
“I didn’t take it, Dorothy, I swear. I wouldn’t do that. Not to you,” Shona blurted out, rising from her chair, frowning with confusion.
“Almost a year you’ve been living here, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of your company. But this? Well, I never thought you’d ever steal from me. Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t take it, on my life, Dorothy,” Shona protested, tears in her eyes.
“Then who did?”
The silence between them was deafening.
“Lucy.”
“Lucy?” Dorothy repeated, creasing her forehead.
“She wasn’t thinking straight. When you called me to come up the stairs, she must have taken it. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let her see me put your change away. I’m sorry…” Shona wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand.
“Why was Lucy in my house?” the old lady asked, her tone even.
“I asked her to come with me to help get the groceries. She seemed upset about something and I wanted to help her, be someone she could talk to, you know? I didn’t know she would steal from you. I would have never brought her here if I thought she’d do that."
“You know how I feel about that girl. She associates with trouble. You remember me telling you what her reprobate boyfriend did to Jake, don’t you? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from her and that Frank Smith.” Dorothy took out her handkerchief and wiped her nose.
“Here, take this.” Shona held out a crisp dollar bill. “I got a tip today for being early finishing a job. Harry let me keep it. I’ll give you the rest of what’s missing at the end of the week when I get paid. Please, Dorothy, take it.”
Dorothy put a hand on either side of her chair and pushed her aged body up slowly. “I don’t want your money,” she said, walking past Shona’s outstretched hand.
“Please, tell me how to make this right,” Shona begged.
Taking a pot down from the shelf, Dorothy opened, then poured two cans of soup into it. Looking square at Shona, she pointed her long, bony finger at her. “You tell that girl to come over here and apologize to me in person. I want her to give m
e my money back. Not you."
Shona nodded.
“Well, you gon’ stand there all evening? It’s mushroom,” Dorothy barked as she set two bowls down on the table and returned to the stove.
Shona slipped into her seat at the table, her hands resting on her knees. “Does that mean you’re not angry with me?”
The old lady lifted the pot from the stove and filled the bowls. “You didn’t lie to me, Shona. You chose to tell me the truth even though it meant admitting you’d made a mistake. I respect that.” She poured the last remaining drops into Shona’s already-full bowl and sat down at the table.
Shona breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 13
“Goddamn it,” Shona cursed as the wrench careened across the stone floor of the garage, flung clean away from her grasp as she battled with the stubborn engine cover.
“Hey, what’s got your goat?” Harry called out as he crossed over to her.
Shona kicked at the ground in pain as she shook her stinging fingers. “Damn bolt won’t shift,” she mumbled, sucking away a thin trickle of blood on her knuckle.
“Well, here… let me try. You got that wrench?” Harry said, holding his hand out as Shona bent down to pick it up. As she did so, her eyes fell upon a pair of yellow sandals approaching. As she lifted her eyes upwards, her stare hardened.
“Morning, Shona,” Lucy chirped.
“Harry, I’m gonna get a Band-Aid for this.” Shona looked through Lucy and waved her knuckle at her boss.
Lucy hovered for a moment and looked at Harry, who shrugged and returned to his tool chest. She followed Shona into the office and watched as she lifted the first aid tin down from the shelf and opened it up, taking out a small Band-Aid.
“Here, let me help you,” she whispered, edging closer.
“I’m fine, I can do it,” Shona snapped back, struggling to free her fingers from the adhesive.