Best Friends

by Curry, Edna

  “But won’t she get cold at night?”

  He shook his head. “She keeps warm, sleeping in what’s left of the barn, with the cows. I leave her dry dog food and she can get water from the cows’ tank.”

  “Oh.” Tami walked around to the side of her car, and gasped when she saw the flat tire.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I guess there were nails in the boards I ran over.”

  “Honestly, Tami,” he said, groaning. “You might have known they had nails in them!”

  “I tried to stop,” she said defensively.

  He sighed. As if he didn’t have enough to do already. “I’ll change it later. The cows come first, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  He turned on the gas generator, then went to the well house and started the pump running to fill the water tanks for the cows. Plugging in the milking machines, he began the milking. She soon followed and sat on a bale of hay to watch him work.

  Sitting on his haunches beside a cow, he arranged the cups on the cow’s teats and glanced at Tami. He was surprised she stayed nearby. She seemed fascinated with the milking process, asking questions and petting Scamp who sat beside her.

  How odd. Scamp usually didn’t like strangers, but she’d taken to Tami right off. He watched them together as he washed the next cow’s bag and moved the machine from one cow to the next. Her long graceful fingers idly petted Scamp’s golden fur. He recalled how she used to run her fingers through his hair like that when they made out in his car. A rush of desire heated his face. No, he must not start thinking of that.

  Looking at the pile of hay bales in the corner, he remembered the dead cows. “Damn,” he said. “I forgot to call the rendering company to send a truck to pick up the three dead cows.”

  “Do it now,” she said.

  He looked up questioningly. She dug in her shoulder bag, came up with her cell phone and held it out to him.

  “I don’t have the number or a phone book.”

  “Oh. I’ll call Aunt Cora. She can look it up for us.” She made the call, thanked Cora and punched in the number for him.

  “Thanks.” He took the phone, sent her a grateful smile and made the call before he could change his mind. She was right. Help from others was nice, sometimes.

  He watched her wander off to take more pictures. He finished the milking, turned the cows out into the barnyard and cleaned the three quarters of the barn that wasn’t buried under roof and hay.

  Tami sat on a fallen tree near her car, waiting for Cal to finish doing his chores. She had no choice. She couldn’t leave with a flat tire and she didn’t have a clue how to change one.

  Finally, he came over to her. “Let’s get that tire changed,” he said, determination in his voice.

  She helped him as much as she could, though she knew little about changing a tire. The one other time she’d had a flat, she’d called a tow truck. She smiled wryly. Fat chance of finding one of those out here. Rural people had to solve their own problems.

  She stood out of his way beside her little red Chevy as he replaced the tire, screwed the nuts onto the lug bolts and began tightening them with the wrench. She found herself admiring his muscles as they rippled against his T-shirt. He’d taken off his denim jacket even though the sunny spring day wasn’t all that warm. She remembered how wonderful those strong arms had felt around her and heat rose up her neck.

  Cal grunted as he tightened the last nut and rose. He put the damaged tire into her trunk, tossed in the wrench and admonished, “It’s not a good idea to drive around here without a spare, with all the debris laying around on the roads. Best you get that fixed as soon as possible, Tami.”

  She brought her mind back to the business at hand. “Yes, I’ll do that. Thanks for changing the tire for me.”

  “No problem. I’d better get back to work,” he said, looking around as though unsure of what to do first. “I need to go over to my place, to see if anything’s salvageable there.”

  “It’s early yet. I’m in no hurry to go into town. Let me go with you and help you for awhile in return for helping me,” she offered. Holding her breath, she waited for his answer, half-expecting him to refuse her help.

  But he nodded and smiled, saying, “All right.”

  Oddly pleased, she got in her car and followed him in his pick-up over to his place on the edge of Conley, a mile away. There was very little left of his parents’ old farmstead. Most of the trees were down and only twisted stumps remained. They drove carefully through the litter to what was left of his house.

  They walked to the remains of the house where Tami began taking pictures.

  “Nothing here to see, just the flooring and a couple sections of wall,” he said.

  “Yes. I know. It’s awful.”

  He walked gingerly onto the floor to the corner of wall still standing, and pulled aside some boards revealing the remains of the bathroom and bedroom closet. Oddly, the door to the closet was still there, and he pulled it open. With an incredulous laugh, he pointed at their clothes still hung neatly on hangers, untouched.

  Behind him, she snapped a picture of the lone wall and clothes. “News of the weird.”

  He lifted a fallen section of the bedroom wall, and found his bureau under it. She grabbed the other end of the section of wall and helped him push it aside.

  Underneath was a bookcase, lying face down, now pretty well splintered, but dry. “Not much left of the bookcase,” he said wryly. “But maybe I can save some of the photo albums and books.”

  She put a hand on his arm, saying softly, “I’m sorry, Cal. It must be hard to lose the home you’ve lived in since you were a child. So many memories…”

  He turned to look at her. “We had lots of good memories, too, Tami. Not here, of course, but at Conley...the school, the restaurant, the city hall where we roller skated, the church you were baptized and confirmed in. Where I thought we’d be married someday...” His Adams’ Apple bobbed.

  “Don’t, Cal.” She turned away, shuddering. The pain of their break-up had never really healed, not for her, at least, despite the fact she’d married and been divorced since then. There was no point in reopening that wound.

  She went to stare down the open stairway into the basement. Changing the subject, she asked, “Is the basement a mess, too?”

  So, Cal thought grimly. Tami didn’t want to remember their past, either. Because it hurt? Or because she was no longer interested in a farm boy? She’d been hot enough for him when they were teens. Until she’d decided she wanted to live in the city. He could swear there was something still there when he kissed her.

  “No,” he said, pulling his thoughts back to her question. “The basement didn’t even get wet. Bobby and I were down there during the storm. When I heard all the cracking and crashing, I thought everything was going to come down on us, but it didn’t, thank the good Lord. The floor held.”

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes bright with tears. “Thank the good Lord. I can’t believe you’re safe when I see how much damage there is. Or that so few people were killed and injured in all of this.”

  “That’s because the tornadoes came during the daylight,” Cal said, leading the way down the basement steps. “It got so dark my yard light came on. So, everybody knew a bad storm was coming, even if they didn’t hear the sirens or radio and television warnings. Nature gives its own warnings.”

  She followed him down the wooden steps. The basement no longer had a door or window and the open spaces where those had been let in plenty of daylight.

  The basement was crowded with things he’d been able to salvage from the debris strewn around his yard. A few metal folding chairs, some damaged wooden chests of drawers and an iron bed frame stood along one wall.

  “I’d better get some plastic over the window and doorway in case it rains,” he said, half to himself. “At least the things down here are usable. The washer and dryer are fine, and I think the new furnace will be salvageable. Though there’
s no house left for it to heat.”

  Cal’s mouth twisted and her heart followed suit.

  She put her arms around him and said softly, “It’s okay to cry, Cal. You have a right to grieve your loss.”

  His shoulders heaved and he allowed her to hold him as a wrenching sob escaped his throat. Then he swallowed and straightened. Taking a long, shuddering breath, he said, “No, my losses are nothing compared to what some people lost. Bobby and I are safe. Sam may not make it. I’ll grieve for people, not for things. I’ll rebuild and we’ll live in the trailer until then.”

  “That’s admirable, Cal. But is it really worth it?”

  “What do you mean, worth it? Of course it is.”

  “You had insurance then?”

  “Of course. It won’t cover everything, but enough to start over.”

  She stared at him, then dared to mention what was on her mind. “But Cal, your house here is gone. And your business in Conley, too. The town may not even survive, because at least some people will leave. Wouldn’t it be easier, just to sell the land and machinery and move to the city?”

  It was his turn to stare at her, open mouthed. “Move to the city? What are you talking about? Why would I want to do that?”

  She swallowed and tried again. “You have a college degree, remember? Why stay out here struggling to make your small business survive when you could get a good paying job with an agricultural support company in Minneapolis or somewhere? There are lots of possibilities.”

  “You mean give up? Quit?” He shook his head. “Besides, who would take care of Bobby in the city? I don’t know anyone there.”

  “There are daycare centers.”

  “My son is not going to be raised by strangers!”

  She stared at him, surprised at how angry her comment had made him. The vulnerable man had disappeared and the stubborn man who knew his own mind was back. “But...”

  “No way, Tami. You know I hate the city. I hate the traffic congestion, the smells, the crowds, the crime rate, and the anonymity of living there. And I’m not raising my kid there.”

  She looked at him, shrugged and sighed. “Sorry. I thought you might have changed. Grown up.”

  He gave a disparaging laugh. “Where I prefer to live and what I like has nothing to do with growing up.”

  “Never mind,” she said. “It was a stupid suggestion anyway. Put it down to temporary insanity, brought on by a grown man’s tears.”

  His lips tightened. “That was a low blow.”

  It was her turn to cry. “I’m sorry,” she said, truly ashamed. “I really am.”

  ~*~

  He put his arms around her and held her close. Finally she stopped crying, sniffed and dug in her pocket for a tissue. He took it from her and wiped her eyes, then kissed her softly.

  The kiss quickly intensified and he crushed her close.

  God, it felt good to hold her in his arms again. She fitted his body perfectly. She felt warm and delicious and wonderful. She responded immediately, kissing back as eagerly as he. He slid a hand under her sweatshirt, aching to touch bare skin, to remember the smooth satiny feel of her, reveling in the sudden feelings she invoked.

  He was crazy with wanting her. He wanted to lay her down and take her on the cot in the corner of his basement. He didn’t care where they were as long as he could have her.

  “No, Cal,” she said straightening her sweatshirt, her face flushed and lips swollen.

  She pulled away, and he knew he was being a fool. She was a city girl now. She wasn’t about to get involved with him again.

  “Sorry.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, turned and led the way up the stairs. He had to get out into the open air, to cool off his desire before he did something else stupid.

  Scamp began barking as they reached the top of the stairs.

  A car slowly, cautiously pulled into the yard, and stopped by the steps.

  “It’s Joe, my insurance agent,” Cal told Tami.

  He walked out to meet him, calling to Scamp it was okay, Joe was a friend. Scamp’s hair was raised on the back of her neck, and it took Cal a while to convince her to quiet down.

  Finally he and Joe could hear each other talk. They walked from one damaged building to the other, with Joe alternately taking pictures and punching numbers into his laptop as they talked.

  ~*~

  Tami sat on what had once been front steps and continued her work on her day’s article on her own laptop while she waited.

  Cal and Joe wandered about, gesturing and talking. Then Joe drove away. Cal returned to where she sat.

  His expression looked closed and bitter.

  “Bad news?” Tami asked. She could see the news Joe had given him was not good, and knew Cal probably needed to talk about it to someone. Would he allow her to be that someone as he had years ago? Or shut her out? “Aren’t your losses covered?”

  “Yes, they’re covered, but no where nearly enough. I should have raised my limits when I bought the last batch of machinery. At least those pieces belonging to customers I had taken in for repairs are fully covered by my liability.”

  “I remember you said machinery is expensive. I was surprised at the price of the tractor you were selling the first day I came to your store.”

  He laughed harshly and waved a hand at the large green monster standing on the cement slab where his machine shed had been. “Yes, ma’am. It’s all expensive. That picker-sheller alone cost over ninety grand.”

  “Ninety grand?” she repeated, almost choking on the words. “You’re kidding me!”

  “I wish I were.” He ran a shaky hand through his wavy brown hair. “I’ll need to do an inventory of what’s left and compare it to my costs, and so on before I’ll know for sure. I wish I still had my computer to do it on. But I’ll make out, somehow, until I can buy a replacement. We always do.”

  “Yes,” Tami said, looking at him doubtfully. She’d really thought life was simple and cheap in small towns. But he dealt in sums she’d never even thought of.

  How in the world would he start over without any buildings and very little machinery? Surely his insurance wouldn’t cover all that? Why couldn’t he listen to reason and just give up?

  “I’ll see what I can salvage of the house stuff, and get it into the basement in case it rains again.”

  “Let me help you for a while.”

  “Well—” he said doubtfully.

  “Please. I’d feel much better about imposing on you this way.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug.

  She put her bag into her car and found a pair of the work gloves she’d bought.

  Then she began sorting through the mess on the kitchen floor. Broken dishes and window glass seemed to cover most of it. There seemed to be little worth picking up, though she managed to carry a couple of laundry baskets full of unbroken things to the basement. The toaster looked salvageable, and the coffeepot seemed okay except for the glass carafe. A flowerpot lay in pieces with a dying philodendron in it. Some drawers and cabinets under the countertops near the sink remained intact, and there she found undamaged silverware and pots and pans.

  But Cal seemed restless and soon said, “Leave those. They’ll be safe enough from the rain there for now. It’s my office at the store I’m worried about and my business records. When I took a quick look before, I could only see a pile of rubble. Let’s go into Conley to see if I can save anything from my filing cabinets.”

  Again pleased that he’d assumed she would go with him, she followed him the short distance into town. It was only because she cared about him and Bobby as friends, she assured herself. She wasn’t still in love with Cal, was she? She pushed that disturbing thought aside.

  Today, Conley was full of people. The guardsmen were still on duty and she parked behind a long line of vehicles.

  As she left her car, she saw Cal talking to some men near the guard. Remembering he was the mayor, she wondered if there was any news she was missing, and
hurried up to listen. They were discussing the rules for allowing residents into their homes to collect their belongings.

  The guard allowed Cal to drive into town today, because some of the streets were now cleared. He waved to her and waited until she climbed into his pickup.

  “People are being allowed back into the houses that are still standing?” she asked as they moved into town.

  “Only after the inspector has checked their house, to make sure it’s safe,” he replied. He waved a hand at a man spray-painting signs on the side of a building. “Some will have to be bulldozed.”

  Swallowing a large lump in her throat, she nodded, recognizing Mrs. Tell’s house as one being marked to be demolished. The poor lady had probably known it would be when Tami had talked to her that first night.

  Farther down the block, a crane lifted a large tree out of the street. Men with chain saws were still cutting other trees into smaller pieces. People were working everywhere, picking up debris and piling it on the curbs for the trucks to haul away.

  They drove the few blocks to his store, which sat on the edge of town. The large tractor and several other pieces of machinery still stood in the parking lot where she’d seen him talking to a farmer—was that only last week? But the wind had carried the roof and most of the walls of his store away. The sight of the jumbled mess left tightened her stomach into a sick knot.

  Chapter 10

  Tami and Cal got out of his pickup and walked to the ruins of his farm implement store. At the office area of the floor, they moved aside boards and pieces of shingles to reveal the smashed computer and printer.

  His file cabinet was badly bent. Cal found a crowbar from the area where his repair shop had been and pried a file drawer open.

  “Everything seems okay inside,” Cal said in a relieved voice. He carried the heavy tray of paper files back to his pickup to move to the basement of his house.

  Together, they dug through the debris, Cal exclaiming over each item they salvaged and only tightening his lips when they found things that were beyond repair.