Love Is All Around

by Rae Davies

  “But what about Randy?”

  “He and Dwayne can clean up the puke. Trust me. It won’t be the first time.” Hugging her friend, she led her to the door.

  Will stood next to it, holding Ruthann’s purse and shoes. “You need help?”

  Patsy shook her head. The last thing she needed was help from Will. “We’ll be fine, thanks.” She slipped Ruthann’s purse over her shoulder and wedged the hideous shoes under her arm. “Let’s go.”

  o0o

  “I puked on his shoes,” Ruthann wailed. “For sure, he’ll never want to see me again now.”

  “Just hope his momma doesn’t get wind of it,” Patsy muttered.

  “Oh no, I didn’t even think of that.” Ruthann broke out in fresh sobs.

  Patsy rolled her eyes. “Get a grip. If Randy Jensen can’t stand up to his momma, you don’t want any part of him anyway. Good Lord, he’s pushing thirty. It’s time to rip those apron strings off and shove ‘em down the drain.”

  Patsy turned the car into Sonic.

  “What are you pulling in here for?” Ruthann asked.

  “For food. You’re not starving yourself on my watch. And when we get to your house, you’re showing me those pills, and we’re dumping them in the toilet.” Patsy pushed the call button on the menu.

  “But they’re not mine. They’re Momma’s. She had to get them from some doctor in St. Louis. It was a real hassle.”

  “Yeah, and your skinny-butted mother needs them like she needs another boob job.”

  Ruthann sniffed. “I don’t think you should talk about Momma like that.”

  Patsy ordered two large fries and two limeades. “You know I love your mother. But let’s face it; the woman shows some questionable judgment at times.”

  “You know she hasn’t had it easy. It’s rough being a single mother, especially in Daisy Creek.”

  It was rough being the daughter of a single mother too, Patsy thought. “No one said she had it easy. I just said some of her choices may not always be the wisest.”

  Ruthann crossed her arms over her chest and began to sulk.

  Patsy paid the carhop and handed Ruthann her fries and drink. “Don’t pout. You can’t tell me you really think your mother always makes the smartest choices.”

  Ruthann sucked the salt off a fry. “Well, no, but it sounds worse coming from you.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but if you really want to get hooked up with Randy, you’re going to have to get thicker skin. I’ll bet Ding Dongs to dollars, his momma’s issues with your momma are what’s put a snag in your romance.”

  “But his momma is usually so nice to me.”

  “His momma has more faces than a deck of cards.” Patsy chewed on her straw. “The point is, we have to get past her to Randy. He has to decide he cares more about you than his momma, or there’ll be no living with him. If she’s head hen, there won’t be any room for you in the coop.”

  “So what should I do?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but don’t be skipping meals and popping diet pills. You are not the problem. It’s Randy and his momma.”

  Patsy took Ruthann straight home after Sonic. The house was empty. The only sign of her mother was an empty cigarette pack crumpled on the counter and a smear of lipstick on the highball glass sitting next to it.

  Patsy followed Ruthann into the pink ruffled bathroom and confiscated her mother’s diet pills. She unscrewed the child-proof cap and shook them into the blue swirling water of the toilet. The Ty-D-Bowl man would be happy tonight.

  Head bowed, Ruthann watched as the last pill spun out of sight. “Momma’s gonna kill me.”

  “No, she won’t. She’d never think you’d dump her pills, and if worse comes to worst, you can always tell her I broke in and performed a sewer sacrifice. She won’t blame you a bit.”

  Ruthann looked doubtful, but she didn’t stop Patsy from taking the pill bottle too.

  “I’ll destroy the evidence. She’ll just think she lost them somewhere.” Plus, it would be harder to get a refill without the prescription number printed on the label.

  o0o

  “Is that Ruthann’s car in the drive?” Granny looked up at Patsy from behind the white Formica-topped kitchen table.

  “Yeah, she wasn’t feeling too well last night.” Patsy poured some coffee from the percolator warming on the stove and dug into the back of the refrigerator. “Do we have cream?”

  Granny peered at her over the rim of an ugly green stoneware cup, part of a set she’d purchased in the seventies from the Bag & Basket. Patsy dug around some more and located the carton of cream. Pouring a dollop into her cup, she found her grandmother was still staring at her. “What?”

  “I didn’t say nothin’.” Granny concentrated on spooning sugar onto her grits.

  She thought they’d been drinking, which they had, but that wasn’t the total reason Ruthann couldn’t drive herself home. Patsy sighed. “Ruthann got the crazy notion she’s fat. She didn’t eat anything all day and then popped some diet pills her momma had. I had to drive her home.” There was no reason to mention they were at Gordie’s when she collapsed. Granny probably knew it anyway, but saying it would force her to comment.

  “That mother of hers doesn’t have the sense to close her eyes in a hail storm.” Granny plopped her fork down beside her plate. “I don’t know what has gotten into girls these days, dieting until they’re nothing but hair and teeth. Some of these gals you see on TV are just plumb scary. Is that what Ruthann wants?”

  Granny didn’t leave room for Patsy’s answer.

  “In my day, a man wanted something to hang onto.”

  The memory of Will’s hand on her thigh danced through Patsy’s mind. A man still wanted something to hang onto; wasn’t a bad deal for the woman either. Patsy flushed.

  Occupied with her lecture, Granny didn’t notice. “A man tries to grab a gal around the waist today, and he’s liable to slide down and smack his head on the floor, with no padding anywhere to slow him down.” She picked her fork back up and pointed it at Patsy. “You ain’t been taking those pills, have you?”

  “Of course not. In fact, I took Ruthann to Sonic and got her some food and then went in her house and dumped the pills down the toilet.”

  “Should’ve dumped her momma in after them.” Granny shook her head and popped up from the table. “You sit down and eat some grits. You want bacon too?”

  Patsy wasn’t hungry. The stress of going with Glenn today, combined with her confusion over Will, left her feeling like she’d eaten a plate of lead biscuits. There would be no getting out of breakfast now, though. She pulled out a chair and prepared to eat a week’s worth of calories.

  “You ever going to call that Barnes boy back?” Granny pulled an iron skillet from the drawer under the stove and set it on a burner.

  Patsy was not going to get caught telling Granny about seeing Will last night. Her grandmother could read her better than a hundred-foot-tall billboard. “I’ll get the bacon.” Patsy cut her grandmother off on her way to the refrigerator. “How about eggs? You feel like having eggs?”

  “I done ate.” Granny took the package of bacon and turned back to the stove. “Get ‘em out if you want ‘em.”

  Patsy didn’t know how she was going to force down the grits and bacon, much less eggs. “No, that’s all right. I’m going to Sauk City today with Glenn. We’ll probably eat out. I don’t want to be too full.”

  “Glenn, hmmm. He that boy from up north?” Granny forked some bacon into the pan.

  “Minnesota. He found the web job for me.” Patsy relaxed; Granny had already forgotten about Will.

  “You think he’s better’n Will?”

  The woman was like a snapping turtle; she didn’t let go until it thundered, and Patsy didn’t have the energy to stir up a storm. “I’m not dating Glenn… or Will either, for that matter.”

  “They know that?” Granny plunked a plate loaded with grits and bacon down in front of Patsy. “Eat up. Sounds
like you’ll need your strength.”

  Twenty pounds stronger, Patsy waddled back to her room to get dressed. Pugnacious was still burrowed under the quilt. “Get up, you lazy butt. I could have used your help in there.” Patsy collapsed on the bed next to her. “I’m never going to fit into jeans now.”

  After rooting around in her closet, Patsy decided to go with her interpretation of business casual: a slim-fitting skirt from the Gap, a short-sleeved burgundy top, and the silver sandals from Ruthann—no pantyhose. Her mother would kill her for wearing a skirt bare-legged, but since Patsy thought her mother’s fashion sense was Laura Bush meets Martha Stewart, she wasn’t too concerned with being labeled a fashion don’t.

  Glenn pulled up in a red, sporty-looking car. Patsy was willing to bet it cost significantly more than her five-year-old Jeep. Not that she was impressed with a flashy ride. Will drove a Beamer, after all, and she wasn’t drooling all over him—well, not much.

  “Hey, can you do me a favor?” After explaining that she needed to drop Ruthann’s car off before leaving town, she climbed into the Cavalier and drove to Ruthann’s with Glenn roaring along behind her. She parked in the drive and left the keys tucked under the floor mat.

  After trotting back down the drive, she slid into Glenn’s roadster. The scent of leather greeted her. She had never sat on anything quite so decadent; her body seemed to glide onto the seat. She sighed as she relaxed against the upholstery.

  “Did you bring your camera?” Glenn asked.

  Patsy held it up in response.

  “How about your laptop?”

  “I only have a desktop.” Patsy fiddled with the strap of her camera. The smell of the leather was starting to give her a headache. “Laptops cost too much.”

  “The convenience is nice though.”

  Sure it was, if you could afford it. Patsy couldn’t.

  As if reading her thoughts, Glenn continued, “You might be able to afford one soon. I’ve got some good news.” He shifted the manual transmission as he picked up speed on the highway. “I showed the marketing manager at Sunrise the spec site you sent me.” He glanced at her.

  Patsy turned a little in her seat. She couldn’t get comfortable. She felt like she was going to slide onto the floor; only her safety belt stood between her and a broken tailbone.

  “She loved it. I’m pretty sure she’s going to be calling you about an interview for a full-time job.” He grinned.

  Patsy bit her lower lip. “That’s great.”

  “I thought you’d be happy.” He shifted again. “The job would be in St. Louis, and the pay would be decent. Plus, they have tuition reimbursement, so you could work toward your degree. That’s something you want, isn’t it?”

  Did misery love company? Of course, Patsy wanted her degree, and she wanted out of Daisy Creek. This was exactly what she’d been hoping for. She sank into the cushioned seat, preparing for the anticipation to flow over her. Nothing but a slight sense of nausea from the smell of cowhide and the view of trees whizzing by got anywhere near her. What was wrong? She should be bounding around the car like Pugnacious with a dirty sock.

  It was just too much, too soon. When she actually got called for an interview, she’d celebrate.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. Patsy concentrated on keeping her legs stiff, pinning her body in the seat. Glenn seemed occupied with hugging the sharp curves of the road. Patsy was used to the ribbon-candy roads, but she still found herself clinging to the handle that hung from above the passenger door.

  “Damn.” Glenn pulled in behind a tractor that sputtered down the highway. “At least we’re almost there. I can’t stand being a passenger on these roads, but they’re fun to drive—until you get behind somebody like this.” He shifted down to match the putt-putt speed of the tractor, but edged the car out past the center stripe, looking for a place to pass.

  “So, where are we going first?” Patsy asked, hoping to divert him from passing the farmer.

  “We’re meeting the mayor and some of the city councilmen first. They’re all gung ho to get Sunrise into the area, and they have names people will recognize.”

  With a surge of power, Glenn zoomed past the tractor and threw the car into fourth. Patsy gripped the door handle and gave the farmer an apologetic smile.

  Sauk City was a lot like Daisy Creek, except smaller. Where Patsy’s hometown could boast of being at the intersection of two state highways, Sauk City seemed to have grown up alongside just one, the definition of a wide spot in the road.

  Glenn slowed to only ten miles an hour over the thirty-five mile-an-hour speed limit as they entered town. A feed store surrounded by domestic model trucks was the first sign they were close, followed by a locally owned drive-thru restaurant with a giant soft-serve cone poking out its roof. Ahead, Patsy could see signs of Victorian houses, probably built in the same era as Will’s home. She was curious to see the historic part of Sauk City, wondering if any of the houses rivaled Will’s, but Glenn turned off the main drag before they reached them.

  A few blocks later, they pulled in front of a bland-looking building of tan brick.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “The courthouse.”

  “This is the courthouse?” Patsy was surprised. Most towns in southern Missouri had big, imposing Victorian structures that had served as their courthouses for the past hundred years or so.

  “Yeah.” Glenn didn’t seem to see anything strange about it.

  Patsy followed him up the walk and stood patiently as he talked to a receptionist in the darkly paneled waiting room. It reminded her of a dentist’s office, old vinyl chairs and chrome tables with ten-year-old Good Housekeeping and Agriculture Today magazines stacked on them. The only things missing were the white coats and the oversized tooth cut away to reveal the pulp and roots inside. She suppressed a shiver and smiled wanly at the receptionist, who was now motioning them down the hall.

  Four men wearing cheap suits sat around a conference table. They introduced themselves, but Patsy could only think of them as suits one, two, three, and four. They seemed interchangeable: big smiles, big hair, and big rings. It was like being trapped in a room of TV evangelists.

  After a few rounds of handshaking and backslapping, they settled in for their talk. Patsy set a mini-recorder on the table to catch the details of their conversation. She would need a few quotes for the website. It was a good thing she did, because even though she and Glenn stayed for over an hour Patsy couldn’t have repeated back more than a couple of words the men had spoken. The answer to all her questions seemed to boil down to one basic theme.

  “How are people here reacting to the news the mines are coming into the area?”

  Suit number one replied, “Of course, a few people are bellyaching, but most of us are thrilled. Sauk City needs the money.”

  “What concerns exactly do these people have?”

  Suit two handled this one. “Nothing major. Nothing as important as the jobs the mines will deliver.”

  “What are you or the mines doing to address these concerns?”

  Suit three jumped in. “It’s obvious we need Sunrise here. The troublemakers will figure that out soon enough. Sunrise doesn’t have to worry about that.” He flashed her a wink.

  Patsy fidgeted in her seat. She hoped the suits didn’t think she was some kind of mine hit woman here to break kneecaps if the locals didn’t go along easily. She gave up on trying to delve into the possible concerns of the citizenry of Sauk City and just went for total PR.

  “So, tell me why you’re excited about Sunrise starting the new mine here.”

  Suit four, apparently the mayor, blabbered on for twenty minutes about jobs, prestige, and money—mainly money. That was pretty much what their entire philosophy boiled down to: money good, Sunrise brings money, thus Sunrise good. Patsy knew at least some of what they believed was true, but it seemed a simplistic approach to what should be a complicated issue. To her four suited friends though, it wasn’
t, complicated that was. They knew what they wanted, and they saw a quick way to get it, end of story.

  As she and Glenn stood to leave, she asked one more question. “What happened to your courthouse?”

  Glenn looked confused by the question, but suit four answered readily. “Tore it down. There was a fire back in the seventies. A few folks wanted to fix it up, but there wasn’t much more than a shell left. Why waste good money on something already so outdated? We opted to take a more modern approach.” He held his arms wide as if the darkly paneled space in any way epitomized current and contemporary.

  Patsy gave a weak smile and followed Glenn to the door. In the name of progress, they had rejected rebuilding something that represented the history of their town and instead slapped up this graham cracker box. It was probably outdated before the tar was dry on the roof. Patsy huffed out a breath.

  “What?” Glenn asked as he opened the door to his car.

  “Hmm?” Patsy shook her head. “Oh, nothing. Where to now?”

  “It’s almost noon. You want to grab a bite?”

  They ate in a little diner a few doors down. Patsy had wanted to try the drive-thru they passed on the way into town. It reminded her of the Tastee Freeze she and her family had frequented when she was growing up, but Glenn thought it looked seedy. He was from Minneapolis. Patsy suspected Glenn’s idea of seedy didn’t quite match her own. If a roach didn’t greet her at the door, she figured it was safe enough.

  The diner was nice though. Aproned waitresses bustled around refilling coffee cups for feed-capped farmers. The special was chicken-fried steak, and the apple pie was fresh. Patsy ordered a chef salad.

  When their food arrived, Glenn raised an eyebrow at her lunch. “That’s a chef salad?”

  Patsy glanced down at the bowl. It was pretty much what she’d expected: iceberg lettuce, orange cheese food, some tiny dry-looking croutons, boiled egg halves, and a few strips of processed ham and turkey. She knew what he meant though. It wasn’t exactly gourmet. But she was happy with it; it was comfortable. There was nothing wrong with comfortable.