by Karen White
“Excuse me,” she said, standing, and trying to pretend to be wide-awake and alert. “Can I help you?”
When the person turned to face her, she stepped back, knocking into the chair she’d been sitting in. It was a miniature version of Stinky, a thought that amused and frightened her at the same time.
He was about her height but outweighed her by at least seventy pounds, his extra weight spilling out over the top of his blue jeans. His face was as clear and well scrubbed as his father’s, making Suzanne ungraciously think of Tweedledum and Tweedledee. The memory of his father’s threats kept her from smiling.
“I’m Charlie Harden. Sorry. I didn’t know somebody was in here.”
She moved between him and the prints, blocking his view. “That’s all right. You just surprised me, that’s all.”
A big grin showed on his face. “Hey, aren’t you Coach Warner’s girlfriend?”
“No. Definitely not. We’re . . . acquaintances.”
He pulled a pack of Juicy Fruit gum from his back pocket and offered one to Suzanne. When she declined, he shrugged and took one himself, smacking it loudly. “That’s a shame. ’Cause I was gonna give you a message to take back to him.”
“Really. Like what?”
Charlie blew a small, thin bubble with his gum, popping it with a crack. A small thread of it clung to his lip as he sucked the rest of it back into his mouth. “Like, he’d better find a way to control his daughter if he wants to keep running this town.”
She spotted the single negative next to the enlarger on the counter, and felt a thread of panic. “What are you talking about?”
He blew another bubble and looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, well, nothing in particular. Just that I happen to know that a certain daughter of his had better start showing a bit of restraint in her behavior.”
She kept her voice calm. “Are you talking about Maddie? I seriously don’t have a clue as to what you’re referring to.”
He looked up at the ceiling again, as if asking for divine intervention, and shook his head. “You’ll find out soon enough. I can’t wait to see what the mayor will do. This’ll be good.”
Knowing that to question him further would lead nowhere, she stepped forward and swept the negative and test strip into the garbage can with a quick movement of her arm. She forced herself not to look down and turned back to Charlie.
He had moved closer to the counter and was looking at the two prints. “Wow. These are really good. Are they yours?”
She quickly rolled up Maddie’s negatives and stuck them in her backpack before sliding it onto her shoulder. Then she squeezed up to the counter, nudging Charlie out of the way. Being careful to only touch the edges in case they were still wet, she picked up the pictures, holding them so that they faced her chest. “No, they’re Maddie’s.”
He blew a huge bubble and let it pop. “Holy cow, those are really great. Is she going to enter them in that contest?”
Suzanne pretended nonchalance and shrugged. “I have no idea. It will be her decision.” She moved to the blacked-out revolving door, designed to keep any light out of the darkroom. “It was nice meeting you, Charlie. Could you lock up? Maddie says Mr. Tener is real strict on that.”
He waved. “Yeah. No prob. I do it all the time. I’m just supposed to sweep out the room and make sure everything’s put away.” He blew another bubble. “Tell Maddie that Charlie said hey.”
“I will,” she said, then let herself out the door.
She felt chilled as she walked out onto the front steps of the school, not stopping to wonder whether it was the early fall temperature or her feelings of guilt. Shivering slightly, she took the quickest route home, through the town square.
In the last light of the day, she crossed the green, the sun having already disappeared over the deserted town center. It was suppertime in Walton, the time when families congregated together for dinner and bowed their heads in thanksgiving.
A small breeze tumbled at her, billowing her skirt back and rustling the early leaves that had already fallen onto the close-clipped grass of the green. She looked up at the odd statue of Lady Liberty, wondering if she was the only one who thought her outstretched arm resembled a lineman’s glove. She’d definitely have to get a picture of that before she left.
She glanced over at the other end of the green, to the statue of the Confederate soldier facing Lady Liberty, and stopped dead in her tracks. He wore what appeared to be a pink feather boa around his neck, and his lips seemed to be painted in a darker shade of the same hue—one eerily similar to the lipstick Lucinda was quite fond of.
As she approached, she could see the facial features of the unfortunate man more clearly, all of them having been emphasized with heavy makeup—including a set of remarkable false eyelashes.
Her first reaction was to laugh. She laughed hard enough that she had to sit on a nearby bench until the stitch in her side subsided. Oh, Maddie, she thought. You are truly an original. And that thought made Suzanne cry. Not just for what she had done to her, but for all the years of growing up that Suzanne would never see.
A stronger wind blew at her, drying the hot tears on her cheeks and making the feathers of the pink boa dance. Shivering, Suzanne cast a last glance at the decorated soldier, then stood and walked across the deserted green toward home.
CHAPTER 12
Joe tucked his cell phone into his pocket and looked over at his friend. With an expression that didn’t completely erase the smile in his eyes, Sam asked, “Is it the inflatable condoms again?”
Joe shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face. “No—not the usual this time. Maddie’s transformed the soldier in the green into a transvestite worthy of downtown Atlanta. Sheriff Adams is not amused. If I knew where she was, I’d wring her neck. She must have her cell phone off because all of my calls are going directly to her voice mail.”
Sam sat down on the sofa next to Cassie, facing Joe. “What did she tell you?”
“That she was going to the movies with a group of her friends and that she’d be back at eleven. I already checked at the theater. Nobody’s seen her.” He stared blankly at Sam and Cassie, at a loss for words.
“Did you call Clarissa White? Those two are practically joined at the hip. Maybe her mother knows where they are.”
Joe shook his head again. “Clarissa told her mother the same story Maddie told me. They’re together, all right. We just don’t know where.”
Cassie patted Sam on the leg as she scooted herself to the edge of the sofa and struggled to a stand. “Well, the kids are more than welcome to stay here for the rest of the night. Especially if you’re planning on having another confrontation with Maddie as soon as she walks in the door. No sense in waking the whole household.”
Joe nodded sullenly. “Yeah. You’re probably right. Thanks.”
“I’ll go make a pot of coffee. Why don’t you stay and have a cup before heading home? Maybe it will give you time to cool off before you talk with Maddie.”
She took his hand for a moment, and her smile reminded him suddenly of Harriet. The stab of grief wasn’t unexpected, but the muffled feel of it was. It was as if something else he’d allowed into his heart had cushioned the blow. He looked up at Cassie, feeling dazed. “Thank you.”
She dropped his hand and disappeared into the kitchen of the old house she’d inherited when her father died. It had brought Cassie back from New York and into their lives again. Thinking back on all she had done for him and his children since Harriet’s death, he had no words to express how thankful he would always be.
Sam stretched out on the sofa, propping his boots up on the peach-colored cushion.
“Keep your feet off the couch, Sam,” Cassie’s voice called out from the kitchen. “I happen to know that you weren’t raised in a barn.”
Sam immediately plopped his feet back on the floor. “I swear she’s got eyes in the back of her head.”
Joe grinned. “She’ll need them as a mother. I think al
l women grow them in the last trimester of pregnancy. Didn’t they teach you that in medical school?”
Sam laughed as he sat back and crossed a foot over the other knee. “So. Tell me what you found out about Stinky.”
“Nothing good. My friend on the Atlanta Police Department did a little checking for me. Seems that our friend Charles Harden is up to his eyeballs in gambling debts. And that the money he borrowed wasn’t from any legitimate sources that they can determine.”
“So why’s he in Walton?”
“Darned if I know. But it seems as if he’s biding his time. He sold his house and business in Atlanta before he moved here. And I did some checking and found that the title to his parents’ house is in his son’s name—I guess to protect it from his creditors. That alone tells me he’s got problems.”
Cassie came in and handed a mug of coffee to both Sam and Joe before kissing Sam on the forehead. “Is there anything I need to give Sarah Frances before she goes to sleep?”
Joe shook his head. “Nope. I’ve already given her the antihistamine. Just make sure she’s wearing socks on her hands so she doesn’t scratch. And please keep your distance. I know you had chicken pox as a child, but I’d like to be on the safe side.”
“Will do.” She blew a kiss at Sam before heading upstairs to put the children to bed.
Sam leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and continued the conversation. “Not the sort of person I’d choose to run a town.”
Joe snorted. “Run it into the ground, maybe. Those sixty acres of undeveloped pine forest his parents left him is what I’m worried about. I have a strong feeling that his entire bid for mayor has to do with whatever he’s got planned for that land.”
“Like a pulp mill.”
Joe drained his mug before putting it on a coaster on the coffee table. “Yep. Like a pulp mill. Only thing worse than the deforestation would be the smell. Of course, he’d have to convince the town council and the citizens to go along with him, but according to my friend in Atlanta, he’s got friends who have strong methods of persuasion.”
Joe stood, and Sam followed. “I guess you heard Stinky donated fifty thousand dollars to the library for computers and a new roof. Don’t know where he got the money, but a whole bunch of people noticed.”
“Yeah, I know. But I haven’t got that kind of money to throw around to win an election.”
Sam grabbed him by a shoulder. “Hey. You know I’m on your side and will do my best to spread the word. You’ve got a terrific record as mayor. People will remember that.”
With a rueful grin, Joe said, “I hope so.” He scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to head on home now and wait for Maddie. Tell Cassie thanks again, and I’ll stop by in the morning to collect the kids and let you know how it went.”
Sam walked him to the door and let him out with a wave. Joe waited for the door to close, then stood on the porch for a long time, not yet wanting to leave. This was the house Cassie and Harriet had grown up in, and where his first memories of Harriet began. He had first laid eyes on her standing on this very porch, wearing a yellow sundress. The gazebo in the back was where he’d worked up the nerve to kiss her for the first time. It was in this old house, even more than the one they’d shared as husband and wife, that he felt her presence the most. But instead of comforting him tonight, it seemed to push at his back, sending him down the porch steps toward his truck.
Confused at the mixture of feelings, he sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment. He stared out the windshield, almost seeing the pieces of his life whirling around him into a tight circle, searching for a focal point. Finally, he put the key in the ignition, started the engine, and headed for home.
A sound outside jerked Suzanne awake. She sat up, listening, the dark of the night pressing down on her. For a brief moment, she was eight years old again and her mother had just returned after a week’s absence. She could almost smell the rum in the darkened bedroom. Blinking, she struggled to orient herself in the correct place and time.
She heard the noise again, and it sounded like two voices—male and female. Springing from the bed, she grabbed the red silk robe—her only splurge from Lucinda’s Lingerie—and ran down the stairs to the front door as she tied the belt around her waist. Flipping on the porch lights, she flung open the door and stopped.
Maddie stood at the top of the porch steps swaying on her feet, while Robbie stood behind her with his arms on her waist as if to steady her.
“Hello, Mizz Parisss.” Maddie’s words slurred together, bumping against each other like passenger cars in a train wreck.
“You’re drunk.” Suzanne tried to keep her voice even, to state a fact without recrimination. But images of her mother made it impossible.
“I ain’t so drunk, am I, Robbie?” Her head fell backward and lolled onto Rob’s shoulders.
Suzanne stayed where she was and cast an accusing glare at Rob. “I suppose you had something to do with this?”
Rob took a step forward, standing beside Maddie but still supporting her. “No, ma’am. I don’t drink—and I didn’t think Maddie did, either.” He glanced over at his date, who was now drooling on his shoulder, but his expression held only worry and concern. “I saw her pouring Coke into an insulated water bottle. She must have had a whole fifth of rum in it already. She’d already downed a lot of it before we even reached Atlanta and I realized what it was. I drove right back.”
“You went to Atlanta? I happen to know that her father told her she couldn’t go.”
Suzanne saw Rob’s face turn ashen in the dim light. “She told me Coach Warner said it was okay. I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you take her home?”
Robbie struggled to move Maddie forward, but her legs seemed to refuse to cooperate and only managed bending at the knee. Robbie grabbed her before she fell face-forward on the porch. “No, ma’am. She wanted to be brought here.”
Suzanne didn’t move. “And I’m supposed to believe that not wanting to face her father has nothing to do with this.”
He looked offended. “I kept trying to talk her out of coming here. I can handle my responsibilities . . . ma’am,” he added, his inbred manners not allowed to desert him even in the wee hours of the night.
Maddie managed to lift her head. “Please, Mizz Parisss, I can’t go home now. Daddy’ll kill me.” Her head slumped forward again, coming to rest on Robbie’s shoulder.
The smell of rum wafted over to Suzanne, making her nauseated. She turned to walk into the house and call Joe, but a nagging memory stopped her—the memory of a discarded negative lying in a garbage can in a darkroom. Guilt overtook the nausea, and she turned back to the two teens. “You go on home now, Rob. I’ll take care of her.”
Almost reluctantly, he loosened his grip on Maddie and stepped away. With his head bent near her ear, he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Maddie stared in his direction with a dazed look on her face as he left them and drove away in his truck. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes glistened with moisture. With a slurred voice, she said, “I think I screwed up big-time.”
Maddie swayed, barely able to stand by herself, and Suzanne found herself swaying, too, but didn’t move forward. She smelled the rum again and half turned to go back into the house, leaving the girl on the porch, swaying in the storm-scented breeze.
“Please.” The one word was filled with so much pain and regret that it grabbed and held on to Suzanne’s heart. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Suzanne started to say something, knowing that not a single house in Walton would refuse to give Maddie shelter. And then she realized what she really meant. That Suzanne’s was the only house she could go to without hurting her father more. She knew that Suzanne would never share Maddie’s mistake with the town. It was as if, in those brief words, Maddie had given all her trust to someone she’d known for only a short time. To Suzanne.
&nbs
p; Suzanne took a step forward, and Maddie followed, and the two met in the middle as Suzanne moved to catch the drunk girl, and they both collapsed in a heap on the wooden floorboards of the porch.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
With practiced movements honed from years of experience, Suzanne reached for a flowerpot and held it for Maddie, pulling back her hair until the retching stopped. After moving the pot out of the way, she pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her bathrobe and handed it to Maddie.
“Feel better?”
Maddie wiped the tissue over her mouth and nodded weakly before letting her head fall on Suzanne’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Suzanne leaned her back against the house, pulling Maddie with her. “I’m going to have to call your father, you know. He’ll be worried.”
A sob erupted from the young girl. “Don’t. Please. He’ll be so mad.”
“Then why did you do it, Maddie? Why would you deliberately get drunk?”
Maddie sniffled, her head lolling back and forth, and then hiccupped. “You wouldn’t understand. Nobody does.”
Suzanne took a deep breath, only a part of her wondering why it was so important to her to understand. “Try me. Maybe I’ll surprise you.”
Maddie was silent for a while as her fingers plucked at the short pink skirt she wore. “Because I don’t want to die before I’ve had any fun.”
Suzanne found herself patting Maddie’s shoulder. “Maddie, you’re only seventeen. You stand a great chance of having lots of fun.”
“No.” Maddie gave her head a vehement shake. “Don’t you see? I’ll never grow old. My grandma and my mama died young, and so will I.” She began sobbing, soaking Suzanne’s neck with tears.
Suzanne’s heart twisted, hearing the pain and knowing how long it had been living inside this young girl. “No, no, no, Maddie. That’s not true. It’s not a guarantee.” She moved Maddie’s head so that she could look into her eyes. And when Suzanne saw what was there, she recognized herself. “Don’t give up, Maddie. Please don’t. There are too many unknowns in life to say you know what’s going to happen. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and a whole town backing you up no matter what happens. You have to live your life without fear.” Suzanne started to cry now, too, remembering words her mother had told her the last time she’d seen her. “Every life holds the promise of rain. But after the rain comes the rainbow. You just have to stick around long enough to find it.”