“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.” But she’d already slammed the door in my face.
I pulled the phone out of my pocket. “Did you hear that?”
“I’m already on my way up,” he said, and I noticed him walking toward the staircase. “Don’t go down there without me.”
My stomach was in knots by the time Jed reached me. The unreadable expression on his face sent a jolt of fear skating down my spine. “What are you planning on doing?” I asked.
“I’m not planning on anything, Neely Kate. This is your visit. I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”
“You jumped in with Zelda.”
He looked taken aback. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I overstepped my bounds.”
“No,” I said, my hands starting to shake. “That’s not what I was trying to say. I was all wound up in knots, and you asked questions it wouldn’t have occurred to me to ask—at least not in the moment. When Rose and I question people, we usually tag-team it. That’s what it’s like with you and me too. We’re a team.”
His smile was reassuring, telling me he believed in me. I smiled back, suddenly less nervous.
“Okay,” he said. “We do this as a team.”
I led the way to Stella’s apartment and took a deep breath before I knocked on the door. No one answered, so several seconds later, I knocked again—a little harder this time.
The door opened seconds later, and a haggard woman answered. “I’ve got a baby sleeping—oh, my God,” she gushed. “Neely Kate?”
“Hey, Stella,” I said softly, every ounce of hostility washing out of me. She looked like a shell of the woman I once knew.
“What are you doin’ here?” Then she glanced over at Jed and took a step backward. “I didn’t mean to sell all your stuff, but you just took off—”
I glanced back at Jed and realized she saw a beefy-looking guy who looked like an enforcer. She thought I’d brought him as backup. “That’s not why I’m here, Stella. I wanted to see you, that’s all.”
She nodded toward Jed. “Then who’s the guy?”
He stepped forward and reached out a hand. “I’m Jed. Her boyfriend. We’re here in Ardmore for a visit, and when she said she was coming to see you, I insisted on comin’ along.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
He dropped his hand. “You used to mean a lot to Neely Kate.”
“Until the end.”
“You still meant a lot to her.”
She eyed me as though trying to determine if it was a trick, but I must have passed her test because she stepped back and let us in. “My baby’s sleepin’, so keep it down.”
“Okay,” I said as I entered the dark room.
The drapes were pulled closed, but a bit of light shone through a crack. My eyes adjusted enough to take in the details of the small living room with a sofa and a recliner. There was a playpen in the corner, and baby toys were strewn all over the floor. Dirty dishes covered the kitchen counter and baby bottles filled the sink. The entire place reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke, and I fought the urge to gag.
I stepped through the minefield of crap on the floor toward the sofa, and Jed sat next to me.
“I see you traded up from Branson,” she said, flopping into the chair. She opened her arms and spread them on the chair arms as she ogled Jed. “Still opposed to sharing, Neely Kate?”
My mouth dropped open, but Jed remained quiet and still.
“Relax,” Stella said, “I was joking.”
The set of Jed’s jaw suggested he didn’t appreciate the joke.
“You have a baby?” I asked, looking for an icebreaker, which was hard given how awful her life seemed to be. She hardly looked like herself. She’d always been thin, but now she looked like a bundle of bones. Her once-beautiful hair was thin, stringy, and lifeless. Her flawless complexion was blotchy, and then there were the missing teeth . . . A before and after shot of Stella would probably scare a bunch of bored teenagers off drugs.
“Joke’s on me, huh?” she asked. “I was always the one warning you not to get pregnant. And then you went and got knocked up. But at least you were smart about it.”
My stomach clenched at the reminder.
“Now you know why I was so eager to drive you to Oklahoma City for your abortion,” she said in a brittle voice. “I didn’t want anything to tie you to Branson.”
“I was leavin’ him anyway.”
“Sure you were . . .” She reached over to an end table and picked up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Well, neither one of us has ’im now.”
“Do you know where he went?” I asked.
She lit her cigarette, took a long drag, and blew out a bit puff of smoke. She lifted her eyebrows. “Do you? Rumor had it you ran off together after Beasley was arrested.”
“I never saw him again after our argument.” That was a flat-out lie, but unless she’d heard differently from Branson, Beasley, or Carla, she might believe it.
She released a derisive laugh. “Argument. Ha.” She took another long drag of her cigarette. “Is that what you want to call it?”
I didn’t feel like dragging that confrontation out for examination. “Stan says you’re not working at the club anymore.”
Her eyebrow quirked up. “You went to the club, huh? Stan fired me after I got pregnant. Nobody wants to stick dollar bills into a G-string under a baby bump. Not. Sexy.” She took another drag. “But he was itchin’ to get rid of me even before that. He said my ‘recreational drug use’”—she used air quotes to get her point across—“was interfering with my work.”
“So what are you doin’ now?” I asked.
“Livin’ the sweet life on the government dole,” she said with a caustic grin. “The kid’s good for something.”
I felt a tiny stab in my heart, one that buried in deeper every moment I spent in this hellhole.
“Why did you keep her?” I asked. “You were the one who pushed me hard to abort mine.”
“For the exact opposite reason,” she said, flicking her long trail of ashes into a nearly full ashtray. “I was trying to keep my man. That’s the whole reason I got knocked up, only the joke’s on me.” She let loose a laugh that sounded like a bark. “He hooked up with someone younger and prettier, and my new man’s meaner than him.”
I didn’t respond.
“How about you, Kitty?” she asked. “What are you up to with your hunky man?”
“You know I hate that name,” I said.
She took another drag of her cigarette and let out the smoke with a humorless laugh. “I know.”
“I’m living in Arkansas,” I said, trying to feel sorry for her to replace my disgust. Trying to remember that she’d once seemed like a friend. “After I left Branson, I went back home to my granny.”
“And you didn’t tell Zelda.” She tsked. “The woman was heartbroken. Never mind that I was still here.”
“I wasn’t her favorite, Stella,” I said, sounding exhausted even to my own ears. We’d had this argument more times than I could count. “You’re her niece.”
She took another drag, then stood. “Whatever. Want a drink?”
I shook my head, and she turned to Jed. “What about you, hot stuff?”
“No, thank you.” His voice sounded cold and impassive.
She stubbed out the last of her cigarette and then headed into the kitchen. I watched as she made her drink—filling the glass half full of coke, topping it off with a more than generous pour of Jack Daniel’s, and finishing it with a few ice cubes.
As she headed back into the living room, she lifted the glass with a partially toothless smile. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
Neither of us said anything.
She sat back down. “Why are you really here, Neely Kate?”
“Jed told you.”
“Jed’s a damn fool if he believes you, but then again, you always did have a way of wrapping men around your little finger.”
“You used to think that about
Branson, didn’t you?” I asked before I could stop myself. “I hated him in the end. He treated me worse than shit.”
“Which is why I found it so hard to believe you actually left him,” she said. “You never found the gumption before.”
“I did the last time,” I said. “That was the last straw.”
She didn’t look convinced. “You did a lot of other kinky shit for the guy.”
“I wasn’t about to let a man beat the crap out of me while he screwed me, Stella. Why would I put myself through that to save Branson’s sorry ass?”
Her eyes narrowed. “But it probably cost Branson his life, don’t you think? That’s why you’re asking about him. You feel guilty because you didn’t go through with it, and Branson got snuffed out.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. If she only knew the truth . . .
She grabbed another cigarette and stuck it between her lips, mumbling, “I bet he’s buried out by an oil well somewhere.”
“If he is, then it’s his own damn fault.”
She lifted her shoulders into a shrug as she flicked her lighter and lit her cigarette. “Maybe it is, but can you live with it?”
I didn’t answer. I’d lived with it all just fine until Kate’s letters started sending me down nightmare lane. Until I realized the walls of the new life I’d built for myself were made of paper.
“Have you seen Beasley since he got out?” I asked, my voice shaking a little.
A knowing smile lifted her lips. “Have you?”
“No.”
She laughed. “That boy loved you . . .”
I didn’t answer.
“I know you had something to do with it. He was so tight-lipped. The only time he got like that was when it came to you.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to incriminate himself.”
She took a drag. “Not likely.”
“Do you know if he came home when he got out?”
“Rumor has it he went to his aunt’s house, but I can’t be sure. Last week I heard he had a job at a hardware store.” She grinned. “I always heard he was good with his hands. Was he?”
My face burned. “It wasn’t like that, Stella.”
She laughed. “That’s what you always said. Beasley begged Branson to let him screw you. Did you know that?”
I didn’t respond, but I hoped to God it wasn’t true. Beasley hadn’t been like his brother, which had made it even harder for me to accept what he’d done.
“So why are you here?” Stella repeated. “I find it hard to believe you were just takin’ a stroll down memory lane.”
“I wanted to check on you is all.”
“More like gloat,” she sneered, then took another long drag. “You and your perfect life and perfect man. I bet you’re just livin’ the life high on the hog.”
“I have a job, Stella. I work at a landscaping office.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Sounds fancy.”
Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. It had always been like that with Stella, so why was I still trying?
A baby began to cry in the back, and Stella released a groan. “That damned kid.”
I cast a glance at Jed, but his face was completely expressionless.
Stella leisurely sipped her drink as the baby began to wail louder.
“Don’t you need to get her?” I asked, starting to get anxious.
She waved her hand. “She’s fine. She can cry for another twenty minutes or so; then I’ll get her up.”
I felt like I was going to be sick. “Can I see her?” I asked. “Before I go?”
Stella rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna screw up her schedule, but what the hell. I’ve gotten good at tuning her out.”
How long did she let her baby girl cry? I stood and started toward the back, then stopped, sidelined by a sudden thought. “What’s her name?”
“Crystal.”
I wasn’t surprised. Stella had always been attached to Crystal. It had been her stage name.
The back of the apartment was equally as dark as the front, but I didn’t have any trouble figuring out which of the three doors led to the baby’s room. Her sad cries led me right to her.
The tiny bedroom had a dresser, a rocking chair, and an old crib. All three pieces looked like they’d been around for half a century. The crib didn’t have the bumper pads and bed skirt I’d already gotten while I was pregnant. It only had a crib sheet and a kicking, crying baby.
I moved to the side rail and peered down at her, my heart breaking into pieces. I was pretty sure Zelda had gotten her age wrong because she looked like she was eight or nine months old. She was naked except for her very full disposable diaper. Dried baby food covered parts of her face, and dirt was caked in her crevices. An empty bottle lay next to her, and I watched as she grabbed ahold of it and began to suck in vain, bursting into more cries when it proved empty.
I was devastated.
“Hey, Crystal,” I said in a soothing tone. “I’m Neely Kate, and I’m gonna take care of this diaper, okay?”
Her eyes widened with fear when she didn’t recognize me, and she continued to cry in earnest while I looked around the room, frantically searching for diapers and wipes. I found a nearly empty package of diapers on the floor at the foot of the crib, but there were no wipes, and the smell coming from her told me that the fact she needed a bath wasn’t the only reason she stank.
“Stella?” I called out. “Do you have any wipes?”
She released a bitter laugh. “Wipes? That’s a good one. Who has money for wipes?”
“Then how do you change a poopy diaper?”
“Just rub it off with the old diaper. If it’s a bad one, I’ll spray her off with the sprayer in the sink.”
I gasped in horror, but I said nothing. Talking back would be a quick way to get us thrown out, and something told me Stella wouldn’t be too quick about changing Crystal’s diaper or feeding her. I went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water while I opened drawer after drawer, looking for a cloth. Each one was filled with makeup, used tissues, and handfuls of unlabeled pills—aspirin, Tums, and others I didn’t recognize. Finally, I found a cloth, which I dampened in the now-warm water, and a nearly empty tube of diaper ointment.
When I got back to the baby’s room, Crystal was still crying and getting frustrated that nothing was coming out of the bottle. “I’ll get you a new bottle in a minute, sweet girl,” I cooed softly. “Let me change your diaper first.”
The poop was dried and caked to her bottom. I put the warm rag over it to get it loose, then gently wiped the red, angry skin. She cried harder as I put ointment on her, and I was about to fasten her new diaper when I felt Jed standing behind me.
“I made her a bottle,” he said quietly. He stared at her bottom as I closed up the diaper and fastened the tabs, and while he didn’t say anything, I felt him tense.
I picked her up and held her close, and she grabbed a handful of my hair and clung to me for dear life.
Jed handed me the bottle before picking up the dirty washcloth that was sitting on top of the dirty diaper on the dresser. “You start feeding her and I’ll get another washrag.”
I nodded, nearly in tears as I carefully sat on the rocking chair and put the bottle to the baby’s mouth.
She began to suck in earnest, as though worried I was going to take it from her. I held her close while she ate, and she wrapped her tiny hand around my ring finger.
Jed returned and crouched in front of me, watching her with that same empty expression. What was he thinking? Was he upset I was doing this?
Holding this baby made me think of my own childhood, born to a woman who’d had me for selfish reasons . . . just like Stella. But Crystal also made me think about the babies I’d lost—two due to my miscarriage and one of my own doing. How could Stella get this precious gift and treat her so badly? How could I walk away and leave this baby with her heartless mother? What would Stella do if I insisted on taking her daughter with me?
Jed stared up at me, and I realized his mask of indifference had finally dropped. The pure rage I saw on his face scared the bejiggers out of me.
“We can’t take her with us.”
My mouth dropped open. “How . . .”
“Because I know you, Neely Kate. I know it’s killing you to see her like this.”
“You’re angry that I want to take her with me? I’ll find another way home.”
“I’m not angry with you. I could literally kill that woman for treating her baby like this, but we both know I can’t do that. And if that coldhearted bitch talked you into an abortion so your loser boyfriend would be available for her to steal, do you really think she’s going to let you walk out of here with her baby?”
“But she doesn’t want her, Jed!” I whisper-shouted.
“That may be true, but she’s getting welfare money for her. She’s not going to let this baby go, and she’s especially not going to let you have her. She’s so jealous of you she can’t see straight.”
I knew he was right, but it killed me to think of leaving Crystal with the woman in the other room. “Do you expect me to just walk away and leave this poor baby to that monster?”
“No. As soon as we walk out that door, I’m going to report her to the authorities.”
“But Stella will know we did it.”
“So? It doesn’t sound like she’s got anything to hold over you.”
“But my past . . . with Branson . . .”
“Who’s she going to tell? It’s not like you’re running for president.”
“But . . .”
“Neely Kate, we’ve all done things we’re ashamed of, even Rose. But if Stella doesn’t have anything to hold over your head that could land you in jail, then there’s nothing stopping us from reporting her.” He was still speaking in an undertone, but his voice was full of conviction. “I know you don’t want to leave the baby like this,” he said, reaching over and putting a hand on my knee, “and neither do I, but we really don’t have a choice. If you take this baby with you, Stella can have you arrested for kidnapping, and I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Trailer Trash (Neely Kate Mystery Book 1) Page 13