Faye bustled from the kitchen with a huge round tray of tiny paper cups, each containing a splash of champagne. As she delivered a cup to Riley, Lily stiffened. It was only a sip of an alcoholic beverage, but with Riley’s recent behavior, she didn’t want to give him a green light on such things.
She was just about to say something when Faye said, “Sparkling grape juice for you, junior.”
Then Faye shot Lily a look that said, I’m not stupid.
Lily grudgingly nodded her thanks.
Riley looked pleased as could be to be included. Faye looked pretty happy herself—until she looked back at Lily again. Apparently all of her smiles were reserved for Riley.
Benny raised his glass, the tiny paper cup looking like a thimble in his beefy hand. “To years of prosperity and good times at the Crossing House!”
“Here, here!” everyone else rumbled in unison.
As Lily drank her sip of champagne, she watched Faye give her dad a kiss on the cheek.
Then the woman was back to business. “All right. Everyone to work. I’m gonna open that door and I can see through the stained glass there are people waiting outside.” She marched over to the door and put her hand on the dead-bolt. “Here we go!”
Lily was astounded by the steady flow of bodies through the door. Her self-doubt about pushing her dad into the wrong decision began to wane a bit.
Someone put money in the jukebox, which now played CDs, and music brought the place to life. Lily saw Brownie from the garage, with his wife—Lily poked around in her memory for her name… Marianne, that was it—and his Aunt Rose and Uncle Carson. It had been Carson’s quarter that started the music. Gosh, Rose and Carson didn’t look a day older than when Lily left Glens Crossing. They all four squeezed into one of the new booths near the back. All of them here at five o’clock meant Brownie had closed early.
Sheriff Clyde commandeered three tables and pushed them together for his huge brood. Lily noticed Riley moved to the far side of the dining room from the Clyde family.
There was Karen Kimball and her daughter, Mickey.
Cassie Edmunds came in with what had to be a date. They claimed a couple of bar stools. At least she had a romantic interest other than Clay. That lifted Lily’s spirits a tad.
Mildred must have left the Dew Drop in someone else’s hands for the dinner hour in order to be here.
The biggest surprise of all was Bea, the Pink Lady from the hospital, and three of her little gray-haired friends. They actually came in and sat at a table in the bar, because the dining room was filled.
Benny was working as furiously as a one-armed paper hanger within minutes. Faye bustled between the kitchen and the dining room. Lily needed to find some way to help. She found it when Benny called for more clean glasses. The dishwasher was taking too long. So she filled a sink behind the bar and rolled up her sleeves.
The next thing she knew, Faye had her delivering food to the tables. Lily felt completely out of her depth and kept getting the orders mixed up. Time and again, she cast a grudgingly envious glance at Faye, who seemed to be doing sixteen jobs at once without missing a beat.
Lily stopped by Bea’s table to say hello and thank her for coming.
“We wouldn’t have missed it.” She smiled. “Now, where did I put my glasses? I can’t read this dessert menu without my glasses.” She patted her pockets, then started to dig in her purse.
Lily waited for a few seconds, giving Bea’s friends the opportunity to help her, but they had their noses buried in their own menus. “Um, Bea?”
Bea dropped her wallet and a pack of tissues on the table and kept rummaging. “Yes, dear?”
Lily leaned closer and whispered, “They’re on top of your head.”
Bea’s hand fluttered to the top of her head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She laughed. “I do that all the time. Thank you.”
“Enjoy your dessert,” Lily said, then went back to washing glasses at the bar.
As she plunged her hands in the soapy water, she realized she hadn’t seen Riley for some time. Craning her neck, she looked into the dining room. A few of the older kids had gathered around the jukebox in the back. She saw Riley there, near the edge of the group of kids, talking to Mickey Fulton.
She felt good about him making a few friends here. And Mickey seemed like a nice, quiet girl.
Several minutes later she caught up with the washing and stretched her aching back muscles.
A flutter of motion at one of the bar tables drew Lily’s attention. Bea and her friends were moving chairs and looking around the table and floor. Lily dried her hands and went to see what the problem was.
“Did you check the outside pocket of your purse?” one of the ladies said, with the slightest edge of annoyance.
“Well, of course I checked,” Bea said.
“Can I help you with something?” Lily asked.
“Oh, no, I’m sure we’ll find them,” Bea said.
Two gray heads disappeared under the table. A thin voice called out. “Not down here.”
“What are you looking for?” Lily asked.
“My car keys,” Bea said.
Lily helped one of the women up from the floor. “Did you go to the ladies’ room, by chance?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why, Bea, you did, too. Twice.”
“I did?”
The woman leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Too much iced tea, remember?”
“Oh, yes. I do remember. But I didn’t take my keys. Why would I have taken them to the ladies’ room?”
“Maybe I should go have a look, just to be certain.” As Lily walked toward the rear of the restaurant, she had the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. She glanced back at Bea’s table. All four ladies were still focused on finding the lost keys.
Once in the tiny restroom, Lily found a set of keys with a photo frame holding a soccer photo that said Gramma’s Pride on the counter by the sink.
As she returned to the bar, Lily saw the reason she’d felt watched. There, at the end of the bar, sat Tad Fulton. Any doubt that he’d recognized her when she’d passed him as she entered the Dew Drop a few weeks ago vanished. He knew who she was, all right. But that wasn’t joy she saw on his face. It was something much more calculating.
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked into the bubbles in his beer.
“Are those my keys?” Bea’s voice startled Lily. “Where on earth did you find them?”
“On the counter.” She forced herself to look back at the table of women as she handed the keys to Bea. “They got pushed behind the flowers.”
“Thank you, dear.” The ladies gathered up and headed out.
Lily smiled, but her gaze quickly moved back to Tad. He had a frown on his face, but now he wasn’t looking at her. She followed his gaze. Her stomach knotted. He was watching his daughter and Riley. She really didn’t like the way he was scowling at her son.
She had known Tad as long as she could remember. He’d been in Luke’s class. Always the hotshot, always the center of attention. Even in grade school, the whole town had been on his bandwagon. Tad had a gift with the basketball. And in Indiana that was a big deal.
And he’d done exactly as everyone had predicted—Indiana’s Mr. Basketball his senior year at Glens Crossing High. He’d gone on to play college ball. Occasionally, Lily had caught a Purdue University basketball game on TV. Tad seemed to be more of a benchwarmer than a hot scorer for the Boilermakers. There had been talk by the sportscasters that Tad’s limited playing time had more to do with his attitude than his ability. Lily could believe that.
Since she’d been back in town, she’d had a few of the gaps between then and now filled in. Sometime during his junior year at Purdue, he’d knocked up Karen Kimball. Surprisingly, to Lily anyway, he married her. Apparently he’d made sure everyone knew she was the reason he’d given up the NBA. Lily saw that for the convenient excuse it was. Plenty of NBA players had families. But very few bench-warmers
were invited into the NBA.
But it was her personal history with him that made Lily’s guts churn. She knew she shouldn’t be so bitter. After all, it was a lifetime ago. She was now a grown woman with a life completely independent of this town and Tad Fulton. Still, just the sight of him made the sting of humiliation rise in her cheeks and rage roll like a flaming ball in her chest.
That night when she was fourteen and Clay had stopped her from going with him when they’d played slips had been the beginning of her strange and confusing relationship with Tad. Time and again he’d made overtures toward her, showing up at her house, talking for hours, making her believe he really was a nice guy. He’d even kissed her. But it quickly became clear that his relationship with her was something to be kept in the closet, away from the eyes of the rest of Glens Crossing.
Tad had made her feel she was someone to be ashamed of. That shadow had followed her into her adult life. It was stupid and she knew it. But it was a fact.
He turned and looked at her again. She forced herself to hold his gaze. Finally, he slid off the stool and walked out the front door.
Her dad startled her by speaking in her ear, “Damn shame. That boy had talent. He’s gone and wasted it.”
Lily just nodded, unable to find her voice. Maybe Tad had snatched it when he looked at her. Wouldn’t be the first thing he stole from her.
“Good God, Benny, I don’t think we can stand this much success,” Henry said when he came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
The last customer had left at one. It was now two-thirty. Most of the other help had gone home. Riley was upstairs in his grandfather’s apartment watching TV. Just Faye, Henry and Lily remained with her father.
Faye said, “It’s just curiosity. Everybody wanted to see the place. It’ll settle down by next weekend.” She cast a pointed look at Lily. “Then we’ll see.”
“We need this kind of business,” Benny said. “I, for one, hope it keeps up. Can’t have the bank coming in here and hauling away the furniture.” He said it as a joke, but for Lily, knowing what she now did, it stung.
Lily looked at Henry. “Had lots of compliments on the food tonight. I think the reputation will keep people coming in.”
Henry smiled with pride. “Well, we’ll see.” He yawned and gave his cheek a scratch. “Think I’ll be headin’ on home.”
“Yell up the back stairs for Riley to come down on your way out, will you?” Lily asked.
“Sure thing.” He disappeared through the swinging door.
A short time later, when Lily and Riley got in the car, she said, “I saw you talking to Mickey Fulton.”
He looked out the window. “Yeah. So?”
“So, I thought it was nice. She seems nice, a little shy, maybe. I’m glad you’ve met someone your age.”
“She’s not shy.” His gaze snapped around to her. “She’s smart. And she has opinions about stuff.”
“Oh. Opinions. You must have had quite a conversation tonight.” Lily was fishing, but she didn’t want to cast her line directly at her target and have him shy away.
He shrugged and looked out the window again.
“Well, in any case, I’m glad you met someone.”
He grunted. “You know her mom?”
“We went to school together. We weren’t friends or anything.”
“So, you didn’t like her?” There was something in his tone that made it seem like more than a casual question.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. We didn’t really know one another.” She wanted to say, No, I didn’t like her, she was silly, superficial and a snob. “Why?”
He shrugged and looked back out the window. “No reason.”
“Maybe we should have Mickey out to swim sometime soon.”
“Geez, Mom, I just talked to her.” He rotated in his seat, giving her as much of his back as the seat belt would allow. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Okay, okay.”
He didn’t look at her again. When they got home, he jumped out of the car and hurried to the house. His plan to avoid her ran into a brick wall when he couldn’t get in the locked door.
He held the screen open for her to use her key, with his gaze fixed on the lake. The second the deadbolt slid free, he was in the house and heading up the stairs.
Lily locked the door behind her, then dumped her purse on the kitchen counter. That’s when she noticed the basement door was open. A cold stone dropped in her stomach. That door was never left open.
Slowly, with quiet steps, she moved to the open door. The light was on in the basement. She listened for a long moment, but heard nothing but the steady tick of the water softener.
She looked around the kitchen. The back door was dead-bolted. Everything appeared in order. She checked the living room. The TV and stack of old stereo equipment were still there.
Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe the door hadn’t been latched and opened on its own—from a breeze or something. Maybe Riley had been down there earlier. It had been light when they left, she wouldn’t have noticed the basement light.
But what if someone was in the house? She’d just let Riley go upstairs alone.
She took the steps two at a time, flipping on overhead lights as she went, until she reached her son’s closed door.
“Riley!” She knocked and opened his door at the same time. His room was empty.
Her body flashed hot and her heart stopped.
The toilet flushed down the hall. Lily spun around just as the door opened and Riley came out. “What?”
She nearly melted into a puddle on the floor with relief. She swallowed and took in a breath to steady her voice. “Did you go in the basement today?” She went on in his room and looked in the closet.
“Hey! Why are you looking through my stuff?” His bare feet slapped the hardwood hall floor as he trotted toward his room.
“I’m not looking through your stuff.” Then she turned and looked at him. “Worried I’ll find something I shouldn’t?”
He shifted his weight and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve got a huge stash of marijuana in my underwear drawer and some LSD in my shoes. God, Mom, really…”
“The basement door was open. I just wanted to make sure no one was in the house.”
Riley moved to the bed and flopped down. “Maybe we’ve got ghosts.”
“Very funny. Go to sleep.”
Just to settle her own mind, she checked all of the closets. Every door and window was locked and intact. The windows in the basement were very narrow and had been painted shut fifty years ago. No one could have come in through them.
She went to shut off the light and close the basement door, the butterflies in her stomach beginning to settle. She flipped the switch, but the fluorescent light over the washer must have been left on. Turning the main switch back on, she went down to shut it off.
After switching the laundry light off, she turned and those butterflies again shot into flight. There on the rug at the bottom of the basement steps was a dark smudge—a footprint heading toward the stairs. It was too big to be Riley’s.
Lily frantically scanned for other prints. There was a faint one about a stride away from the first, back toward the coal room.
With a dry mouth, she grabbed a baseball bat that had been stacked with a pile of old sports equipment. The unfinished basement was one huge room. She followed the footprints with a hammering heart. She told herself it was stupid, illogical, to think she’d find someone; the footprints all pointed in the opposite direction. Yes, but his feet would have been clean by the time he came back.
The prints stopped at an old wooden door near the antiquated furnace. The coal room. Lily had forgotten about the old coal chute. Peter had told her he used to sneak in and out late at night through there.
“I’ve called the sheriff!” she shouted at the door, and waited to hear movement on the other side.
Strain as she might, she couldn’t hear the slightest scrape of shoe
on concrete or gasp of inhaled breath. The dark silence on the other side of the door didn’t ease her fear.
Well, there was no way she was going to sleep tonight unless she opened that door. If someone had come in this way, she assured herself, he’d had plenty of time to get back out since she returned.
She put her hand on the old latch and lifted. The sound echoed like a cannon shot in the basement. Lily swung the door wide and jumped backward at the same time. She held the bat high in the air, ready.
For six long heartbeats—she counted them as they pounded in her ears—she waited.
Then she took a step forward and reached in, turning on the light. A porcelain fixture with a single bulb didn’t eliminate the shadows from the corners. But as Lily’s eyes adjusted, she could see well enough to confirm she was alone.
She lowered the bat and walked into the tiny concrete room. The old iron door that opened to the outside was closed, but not latched. She reached up and tried to slide the latch home. It was rusted in place. She pounded it with the bat a few times, trying to loosen it, but had no luck.
Dammit. No way could she sleep knowing this was open.
She went back out into the main basement and closed the door. There was no more than a crude lever latch, no way to lock it. Well, if she couldn’t lock it, she was at least going to make sure she heard if someone tried to open it. She grabbed one of the metal shelving units and dragged it, its metal feet squeaking and squalling as they danced over the concrete floor, until it was directly in front of the door. There was enough junk on it that if it fell, she should be able to hear it clear out on the dock.
As she went back upstairs and closed the basement door, she couldn’t shake the creeps. She jammed a kitchen chair under the knob. The creeps remained. Someone had been in her house. The question of why kept circling like a vulture in her brain.
Maybe Riley had been nosing around down there. She sure couldn’t call the sheriff and say she found a footprint in her basement. Nothing was disturbed, nothing vandalized.
The Road Home Page 18