by Karen White
She picked up the present from the bench and followed her sister at a slower pace, pausing briefly beside the large magnolia in the front yard to watch the fireflies. She breathed in the scent of the boxwoods and the summer grass, remembering a summer from a million years ago when her mother had given them jars to collect fireflies, and Maddie had raced around the yard as if collecting as many as she could was the most important thing in the world.
Sometimes, when she was feeling much older than her seventeen years, Maddie remembered that night; remembered her mother and father and sisters and brother the way they’d once been, and a world that seemed grounded and full of possibilities. It was a place she wanted to find again, even if it no longer existed for her in Walton.
She walked the rest of the way home, her path marked by the light of the moon, and imagined her mother walking beside her, guiding the way.
Suzanne resisted the urge to smile as she stood across the counter at Lucinda’s Lingerie, helping the editor in chief of the Walton Sentinel, Hal Newcomb, pick out a birthday present for his wife, Sugar. When he’d first said her name, images of a petite woman with delicate tastes had crossed Suzanne’s mind. But when the diminutive Mr. Newcomb had asked for something in a size eighteen, the image escaped her completely.
Spread on the counter between them now was a black chiffon negligee, its voluminous pleats disguising the material’s complete transparency.
“I’ll take it,” he said.
She wrapped it with extra tissue and watched as an extremely satisfied customer left the store. Lucinda said that sales had nearly doubled since she’d hired Suzanne. At first, it was from sheer curiosity, and then it was as if the townspeople instinctively trusted her not to divulge the secrets of the quiet little purchases they made at the lingerie store.
As she smoothed the stacks of tissue and reshelved items discarded by Mr. Newcomb, the bell chimed over the door, and Suzanne glanced up with a smile on her face.
Stinky Harden stood inside the shop, his white fedora held over his considerable belly, looking like an escaped Good Humor man with his blue-and-white-striped seersucker suit. He smiled like a frog at a fly strip. “Well, hello there, Miss Paris. What a shame you have to be working inside on a day like today. Perhaps after work you’d like to go for a walk with me and enjoy the emerging fall foliage.”
Suzanne swallowed hard, his presence sending her warning signals even as he stood there in his ridiculous suit and smiled at her. “Thanks, but I’m meeting Maddie Warner at the school after work, to develop pictures in the darkroom.”
He knitted his brows together. “Did you get permission for that?”
She wiped her sweaty palms against the sides of her skirt. “Yes, of course. Maddie asked Mr. Tener, and he said fine since he’d be there anyway.” Suzanne wondered why she was bothering to explain this to Stinky. Grabbing a box of packaged panty hose, she moved to a far wall to begin restocking, hoping he’d see it as a sign of dismissal.
“Is Lucinda in?”
Without turning around, she shook her head. “No. Joe had a school board meeting, so she’s watching the little ones.”
At the sound of the CLOSED sign being flipped in the window, she jerked upright. “What are you doing?”
He slid the dead bolt home before walking toward her.
She held the box of panty hose in front of her in a defensive gesture. “Don’t come any closer.”
He stopped in the middle of the shop, not close enough for him to touch her but close enough that she could smell his heavy aftershave. “Now, don’t get in a snit; I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you in private. Since you’re too busy to come for a walk, I figured this was the best time for it.”
She started to reach for the phone on the wall, to call for help, but stopped when he pulled out a folded newspaper page and she recognized it as one she had left at the Dixie Diner. The article regarding the Hardt exhibit was on top.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush. We both know you’re hiding something. Nobody comes from nowhere. And nobody just drops into Walton without a reason. So, seeing as how you’re getting real cozy with the current mayor, it’s in the best interests of this town to know what kind of person he’s consorting with.”
He placed the newspaper on the counter. “I’ve gone over this again and again, and I still can’t figure out what article you found so important. Perhaps you’d like to enlighten me?”
With a great deal of effort, Suzanne shrugged and went back to shelving panty hose. “I read the paper every day and clip out articles I find interesting. There’s no way I can remember which one caught my interest.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh.” He picked up the paper again. “There’s an article in here about defective tires, and another on the Miss Monroe County Beauty Pageant. Not sure if either one of those would interest you. Then there’s something about some missing photographs and the proposed hike in property taxes. . . .” He peered over the newspaper before looking back down at it. “And an article about the new exhibit at the High Museum.”
Very carefully his pudgy fingers folded up the newspaper again before tucking it under his arm. “I’ve also made it my civic duty to follow up on your employment records. Seems Lucinda hasn’t filed a W-9 for you yet. Can you think of why she’d be holding back on that?”
Suzanne bent over the box in front of her and lifted out an armful of panty hose packages. “You’ll have to ask Lucinda. I just work here.”
“But you did fill one out.”
Moving a footstool in front of her with her foot, she stood on it and reached for the highest shelf to put away the plus sizes. “I don’t recall.”
“Uh-huh.” He took a step closer to her. “I don’t know what your game is, Miss Paris, but I’m onto you. You might want to mention to your boyfriend that he should be more careful of the company he keeps. Elections have been lost for less.”
He turned to leave but paused at the door and, with a big smile, tipped his hat. “Have a nice day, you hear?” He flipped the sign to OPEN, then let the door slam behind him.
Before her knees buckled, Suzanne sat down on the footstool. She placed her head in her hands to keep them from shaking and tried to ignore the nausea boiling up from her stomach.
Leave now! her head seemed to shout. Leaving and making a change was what she was best at. But then she remembered the scent of the moonflowers and the taste of Joe’s lips on hers. And she thought of Maddie and her beautiful pictures and shut her eyes. Not yet, her heart seemed to reply.
She sat on the footstool for a long time, wondering just when it had happened that things had changed without her even noticing.
CHAPTER 10
Suzanne held her backpack in front of her, clutching it tightly, as she approached Joe’s house. She hadn’t seen him since he’d kissed her. It had been a mutual avoidance, and this meeting wouldn’t be easy. Except for a favor to Lucinda, nothing could have coerced her into a three-mile radius of Joe or his house.
She spotted Joe’s truck in the driveway, with a bucket and running hose next to it. Her heart constricted when she realized somebody was standing behind it and, by the sound of the grunts, scrubbing hard.
Maddie’s head stuck up over the back of the truck, and Suzanne tried to hide her sigh of relief. “Hey, Miss Paris.” Her voice was flat, definitely not that of a happy child.
“Hi, Maddie. I thought you had a photography club meeting.”
“I do, and I’m going to be late.”
“So why are you washing the car?”
Maddie glowered at Suzanne. “Because Daddy said I need to wash this off before he could go to baseball practice. He didn’t want anybody to see it.”
Flush with indignation for this father who made his child wash his car so he wouldn’t look bad, Suzanne leaned over to get a look at the bumper and then stopped, holding her breath so she wouldn’t laugh.
Thoroughly sodden but still tenaciously clingin
g to the back bumper of the SUV were two bumper stickers that hadn’t been there before. One read KEEP HONKING. I’M RELOADING and the other FISH FEAR ME. WOMEN WANT ME.
Keeping a straight face, Suzanne said, “I take it these were your idea.”
With a stiff plastic sponge, Maddie used both hands to scrub side to side over the stickers. “Yeah. I was mad at him.”
Suzanne dropped her bag and reached into the bucket to pluck out another sponge. She began rubbing it across the “reloading” sticker, figuring it to be the more offensive of the two for a town’s mayor to be sporting on his bumper. “Why were you mad?”
Maddie lifted her shoulder to scratch a soap bubble off her chin. “Rob and a bunch of kids from school are all driving into Atlanta Friday night, and Daddy said I couldn’t go.”
“I see.” Suzanne continued to scrub without looking at Maddie. Unfortunately, she could see—but both points of view. What those two needed was a referee, and she wasn’t about to volunteer for the job.
“Why are you here? I thought you and Daddy weren’t speaking since he kissed you.”
Suzanne felt her cheeks flush but concentrated on rubbing off the sticker. “Lucinda has a date with Sheriff Adams, so she asked me if I wouldn’t mind babysitting tonight since both you and your dad are going out.” She paused and looked at the young girl. “And how is it that the whole town knows about that kiss?”
Maddie shrugged without missing a beat in her scrubbing. “Mrs. Thompkins saw you, too. She’s better than a newspaper headline.”
Leaning back on her heels, Suzanne said, “I figured as much. The lingerie shop has been flooded with customers all week, dropping hints about what a wonderful guy your dad is. I don’t vote, so I couldn’t figure it out at first.”
“People have been trying to set Daddy up since Mama died. I’ve learned that it’s not disrespect to Mama—it’s just that people here have known Daddy all his life, and they don’t want him to be alone.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
The last remnant of torn sticker came off with the sponge, and Maddie tossed it in the bucket, then went to the side of the house to turn off the hose. “I figure it’s none of my business. I’m not going to be sticking around here long enough for it to matter, so Daddy can kiss you as much as he likes.”
Suzanne stood, shocked to hear her own thoughts echoed in Maddie’s words. “What do you mean?”
“I’m seventeen. I’ll be heading for college next year. Heck, Sarah Frances and Joey are already fighting over my room. I’m as good as gone. I kind of think you’re doing me a favor by distracting him.”
Suzanne studied Maddie, seeing past the false bravado into the face of a worried and insecure child. “I’m sure there’ll always be a place for you here. It’s not like this stops being home when you leave.”
Maddie looked at her with clear green eyes. “And how would you know what home is?”
Suzanne stooped to pick up her bag from the grass, feeling gut-punched. Teenagers always had a way of telling you what they thought regardless of how it would make you feel. “Well, I guess you got me there.”
They both turned at the sound of the front door opening. When Maddie spotted her father, she quickly plucked her purse off the driver’s seat of the truck. “I gotta go now. Hey, sorry about canceling today. But the darkroom’s free again on Friday after school, if you can make it then.”
“Sure. I need to check with Lucinda, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
With a wave, Maddie headed down the street on foot. Suzanne threw her backpack on her shoulder, preparing for the assault of nerves.
Joe was holding Harry, who clutched a tattered yellow blanket and wore footie pajamas. Joe wore sneakers and cutoff jeans shorts, and a navy blue baseball cap with the letter “W” emblazoned in red on the front. When he turned to inspect the bumper, she saw the back of the shirt: WALTON WAZZOOS.
It was the first time she’d seem him in something other than pressed pants and a button-down shirt. His legs were lean and muscular—an athlete’s legs. Not at all like dark and fine-boned Anthony, with his black eyes and hair that was never out of place.
“I appreciate you doing this,” he said. He didn’t avoid looking at her, just avoided letting their eyes meet for any length of time. He continued. “Aunt Lucinda said she’s given you the scoop on everything, so I’ll spare you by not going over it again. I left my cell phone number on the kitchen table—call me for anything.” He looked down at Harry for a moment, smoothing the bright blond hair off the boy’s forehead. “Sarah Frances has locked herself in her room and refuses to come out. That’s probably for the best, so don’t worry about it. And they’ve all been fed.”
Harry let go of his father’s neck and leaned toward Suzanne. Not knowing what else to do, she opened her arms and let the little boy fall into them. In the transaction, he’d managed to hang on to his bear, but the blanket had fallen onto the grass. He pointed to it and screeched, “Wooble!”
Joe picked it up and handed it to him, and Harry immediately cuddled it into his chest before nestling his head onto Suzanne’s shoulder. She looked up at Joe, astonished that a child had willingly sought her out, but also at how sweet he smelled and how soft he felt nuzzled under her chin.
“This one’s ready for bed.” With a soft smile, Joe stroked the baby’s cheek with his finger and Suzanne knew he was seeing another face, one with the same bright blue eyes and hair the color of corn silk.
She moved away and said cheerfully, “We’ll be fine. Go and have fun and don’t worry about us.”
He nodded, his eyes seeming to study her—as if he was making a comparison. “I won’t be late. Maddie’s going to a movie after the meeting, so I’ll probably be home before her. And don’t forget: call me if you need anything.” He bent to kiss Harry on the cheek.
“Will do.” She turned and walked up the steps to the front door, marveling at the soft weight of the child in her arms.
She found his room easily, following the scent of baby powder down the long hall at the top of the stairs. She was surprised to see he still slept in a crib, and wondered absently if it was because Joe was hanging on to Harry’s babyhood as long as he could. Very carefully she lifted the now-sleeping child over the sides of the crib and laid him on the mattress. He burrowed into the Winnie the Pooh sheets, raising his rear end in the air and tucking his knees underneath him, the bear and blanket hugged tightly into his chest. He gave a deep sigh of contentment, then settled back into sleep.
After covering him with a blanket, Suzanne watched him sleep for a long moment, and thought about her own mother for the first time in weeks. Had she ever watched Suzanne sleep as a baby? Harry was so beautiful lying there. It made Suzanne feel protective of him, willing to sleep on the floor by his crib just in case he needed anything. It was a strange feeling, and humbling, too. How could she have been so lacking that her mother had never felt tied to her?
She turned away and looked around the room at the hand-stenciled teddy bears that lined the tops of the walls, and the painted chest of drawers showing a landscape with a family of bears having a picnic. It was a beautiful room, stamped with love by a mother’s hands.
Suzanne closed her eyes, a distant memory tugging at her brain—a memory of soothing hands and a desperate voice. A memory of a mother whose face she could barely remember. She pushed it away and opened her eyes, nearly stumbling in her surprise.
On the wall above the crib hung a cross-stitch. It was stitched with bears and bunnies bearing flowers and standing under a rainbow. And above the scene were the words “A life without rain is like the sun without shade.”
She moved closer, squinting to see the tiny stitched initials in the bottom right corner of the frame: E.L. Reaching up, she let her fingertips brush the glass over the cross-stitch and searched her memory of the people in Walton for somebody with those initials.
Not able to come up with a name, she let her hand drop. Almost without thinking, she
pulled the gold chain around her neck out from its hiding place beneath her shirt and looked down at the inscription: A life without rain is like the sun without shade. With a frown worrying her brow, she tucked the necklace back under her shirt, then left the room to go find the other children.
Out in the hallway, she spotted a closed door and assumed it to be Sarah Frances’s room. Walking silently past it, she went down the stairs, softly calling out for the other children. She found Joey, Amanda, and Knoxie, already in their pajamas, on a couch in the family room, watching a Disney movie. Their eyes were riveted on her as soon as she entered the room, and for the first time she felt nervous.
“Hi, guys.”
Amanda stared at her with blue eyes that were identical to Harry’s. “I’m not a guy.”
“Me, neither.” Knoxie stared at her defiantly.
Joey rolled his eyes. “She meant ‘y’all.’ She’s not from around here, so she says ‘guys’ when she means ‘y’all.’”
Suzanne perched herself on the edge of a recliner and faced the children. Squeezing her hands together, she asked, “So, what would ‘y’all’ like to do?” She half hoped that they’d suggest they stay where they were and watch television. She was pretty sure she could handle that.
Amanda bounced up and down on the sofa. “Let’s play Candy Land!”
Both Knoxie and Joey groaned.
“What’s that? I’ve never played it before.”
Knoxie and Joey looked at each other, then back at Suzanne, and smiled. “That’s all right. We can teach you. Do you have any money with you?”
Suzanne nodded slowly. “Why do I need money?”
“You’ll see,” the children chimed in unison.
Taking Amanda’s hand, Suzanne was led into the kitchen, where Knoxie was already setting out the board game. Taking her wallet out of her bag, she sat down at the table and rubbed her hands together. “Okay, y’all. Let’s play.”