Breaking the Seventh

by Allie Gail

  “It has to be. And I hate seeing him here, but it was pretty much our only option. At first we tried hiring a home healthcare professional to come to his house every day and help out, but he chased everyone off. No one would stay longer than a few days. So then my parents moved him in with them, and they managed to deal with his bad attitude well enough until he had his second stroke. After that, he was wheelchair-bound and his mind was slipping. He needed to be watched around the clock. They finally decided it was more than they could handle when he somehow managed to get himself out of bed one night and set the kitchen on fire trying to make pancakes out of a box of laundry detergent.”

  A familiar face in purple scrubs is making her way down the hall in our direction, and I slow down in passing to speak to her.

  “Hey, Margaret. How’s he doing this morning?”

  Pressing her lips in a tight line, the nurse closes her eyes and gives her head a terse shake. That tells me all I need to know, even before she announces, “He’s in rare form today, I’m afraid. All I can say is good luck.”

  Perfect. I might have known. He was having a relatively good day yesterday, so naturally his insufferable temper was bound to flare up again.

  Smiling encouragement at Leah, I rap on the door a couple of times before pushing it open and going on inside. I try to keep my voice upbeat, even though I know it won’t make any difference.

  “Hey there, Pops. Long time no see. Whatcha up to this morning?”

  “What the hell does it look like I’m doin’? Playin’ goddamn cricket? I’m tryin’ to watch the ball game and that bitch hog nurse keeps comin’ in here tellin’ me to stop hollerin’ at the TV! Can’t a person even watch TV without bein’ bitched at?”

  Crossing my arms, I grin at him knowingly. “Were you shouting at the umpire again? You know he can’t hear you.”

  “That so-called umpire couldn’t find his ass with both hands in his back pockets!”

  “I know, but you have to try and keep it down some. There are other people on this floor and you’re disturbing them with all the racket you’re making.”

  “Well, who the hell told ’em to listen? A fella oughta mind his own business! I don’t go around worryin’ about how many shits old Myron Farley down the hall is takin’, now do I?”

  “Nice.” Stifling a laugh, I pat him on the shoulder. “Real classy. Could you say that a little louder, maybe?”

  “You been watchin’ this game, Lloyd? Can’t believe the calls they’re makin’. That last sonofabitch was out, clear as day. Out. Didn’t even come close to bein’ safe. Got cataracts in both eyes and I could see that. Who’d that umpire blow to get his job, I’d like to know? Jackass is more confused than a fart in a fan factory.”

  “It’s Myles, Poppa,” I remind him gently. “Lloyd is Eloise’s son.”

  “I thought so. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get me a beer? Won’t nobody around here let me have a goddamn beer. What am I, a convict? I got my rights.”

  “You know what the doctor said. Tell you what, how about I get you a ginger ale instead? Would that work?”

  “Doctors. Ha! Eggheads ain’t good for nothin’ but takin’ your money and shovin’ pills down your throat. ’Bout as useful as screen doors on a submarine. I don’t need no doctor to tell me what’s wrong with me.”

  “So you’ve said. What about that ginger ale?”

  “What? Now who the hell asked for ginger ale? You ask me, that stuff tastes like horse piss. What are you tryin’ to do, poison me?”

  “Nobody’s trying to poison you,” I sigh. “Do you want a Grapico then?”

  “Grapico? Oh. Well, maybe. Yeah, I might have one after a spell, if you can find me one in a bottle. Tastes funny out of a can. Where’s the dog? You didn’t bring him?”

  “Not this time, no. I did bring his owner, though.”

  Taking notice of Leah, he jerks his head in her direction and snaps, “Who’s the tail? What’d you do, stop by a cathouse on the way here?”

  Oh, no. Don’t do this. Not now.

  Reminding myself that he is an ailing old man who doesn’t know what he is saying, I keep the reproach in my voice mild. “Come on now. Watch your mouth. You know better than to use language like that in front of a lady. This is Leah. She’s a friend of mine.”

  “Lady?” He snorts rudely. “Lady, my hairy wrinkled ass! They stopped makin’ ladies a long time ago. Ain’t nothin’ these days but harlots and gold-diggers. What, you ain’t learned your lesson yet, boy? Gonna let this one make off with what little you got left?”

  Shaking my head, I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Great. This you remember.” I don’t know why Quinn felt compelled to fill him in on what happened to me in Asheville. If I’m guessing, it was probably because he was being chewed a new one and bringing that shit up was an attempt to deflect the old man’s ranting.

  Unfortunately, right now his ranting is centralized on Leah. “Little missy, if you want my advice, you’ll find some other chump to spread your legs for. This one’s done been picked clean. He ain’t got two nickels to rub together, so why don’t you just turn your fanny around and march it right back out of this room! Quit wastin’ what little time I got left on this earth.”

  Mortified, I shoot her an apologetic look. I knew he was apt to be disagreeable, but this behavior is abominable even for him. I’ve never seen him in such a foul mood.

  To my dismay, Leah is standing there frozen in her tracks, staring at him with the most peculiar expression on her face.

  My heart sinks like a stone as I realize that she has no idea how to react to this level of abuse. I knew it, I knew this was a bad idea! The whole scene is freaking her out. Of course it is, and who could blame her? He isn’t exactly the most pleasant person to be around these days. Right now I want to kick myself square in the ass because I should have known better. I should have known better than to bring her here and put her in this awkward position.

  And then she does the strangest thing.

  Even for her.

  Approaching my grandfather, she kneels in front of his wheelchair and tilts her head to one side, gazing up at him in reverent awe. And in a soft murmur, she says to him, “I know you. Don’t I?”

  He peers down at her, blinking as he looks directly into her face for the first time, and I brace myself for the verbal onslaught that is sure to follow. I don’t know how I will ever be able to apologize enough for this.

  But he surprises me. The transformation in his own expression is what amazes me the most. It’s nothing short of miraculous. His scowling features relax and the raging storm clouds fade from his pale blue eyes. They soften, and unexpectedly the corners of his mouth twitch up in a rare smile.

  “Well, well,” he drawls, his demeanor completely changed. “I’ll be damned. If it isn’t little Lucy No-Name.”

  “Joe!” Taking one of his weathered hands between hers, she squeezes it. “I thought you looked familiar, but it took me a minute to recognize you. I wasn’t sure…I thought it was you, but…I can’t believe it! It’s so good to see you again.”

  “Good to see you too, honey. Why, didn’t take me no time to recognize you. Don’t look all that different. How you been, baby girl? All growed up, I see.”

  “Yep. All grown up and doing just fine.”

  “Hmph. You ain’t growed up all that much. Still ain’t no bigger than a minute.”

  “A minute and a half, maybe,” she concedes with a grin.

  “Why, I s’pose so! Now you got to tell me. That no-account mama of yours ever straighten up and do right by you?”

  “Depends on what you mean by right. The last time I saw her was the night you and I met, so I guess her version of right could be open to interpretation.”

  “The hell you say!”

  “No, I’m serious. I never saw or heard from her again after that. But it’s fine – my dad and I were both better off in the long run. He ended up remarrying, and I ended up with a stepmom that actually cared a
bout me. So you see, it all worked out in the end.”

  “Always did wonder what became of my sad little brown-eyed Lucy.”

  Lucy?

  I’m dying to ask, but the odd exchange has me mesmerized. I’m not sure what’s unfolding here, but I can discern enough to know that I shouldn’t interrupt.

  “You know, I asked my dad to take me back to the diner a few months after all that happened, but the waitress there said she’d never heard of you or Penny. I was starting to wonder if you weren’t both figments of my imagination.”

  “I reckon she’d sold the place by then. She and Hoyt had been tryin’ to get rid of it for a while. It was gettin’ to be too much for them.”

  “Wait a minute…” It’s all starting to click together now, but there are pieces that still don’t fit. “Aunt Penny and Uncle Hoyt owned a restaurant? When was this?”

  “You don’t remember that?” Pops turns his attention to me, and there are traces of his former self shining through. “Well, I reckon it was about the time the steel mill shut down and your daddy took that temporary job in Tampa. So you might not recall. They only had it for about a year, so I ’spect by the time y’all moved back, they didn’t have it no more. After Penny got her cancer diagnosis, they didn’t feel like they could keep up with it.”

  I furrow my brow, thinking. I do remember the year we spent in Tampa after my dad lost his job. But at twelve years old, I was living in my own adolescent bubble of school, friends and football. If my aunt and uncle back in Crestview were having troubles in their grownup world, I knew nothing of them.

  “Penny had cancer?” Leah voices the question I was just about to ask.

  “Aw, shoot, nothin’ to worry yourself over. She came through it just fine. Beat that cancer and sent it packin’. Ain’t had no trouble since. Everyone knows you can’t whup a Bellamy.”

  “I sure am glad to hear that.” She turns her face to beam up at me. “You remember me telling you about the night I ran away from the hotel?”

  I'd already put two and two together, but the coincidence is such a fluke it's hard to believe. “The man you said found you and called your father to come pick you up. That was you, Pops?”

  “Was some time ago, but I reckon it was me, all right.” He pats the top of her head with a shaky hand, the way you would a child. The same way he used to show affection to me and my brothers when we were little. “You never did see such a sorry sight. Barely knee high to a grasshopper, and here she is on the lam like the world’s littlest hobo. Pure spitfire, that one.”

  “She still is,” I confirm with a grin.

  “How long you been acquainted with Garrison?” This time, Pops has me mixed up with my father. I don’t bother to correct him.

  Leah glances over at me uncertainly. But to her credit, she doesn’t mention the faux pas either. “We’re neighbors. Myles lives next door to me.”

  “That right? Neighbors, you say.” He appears to contemplate this for a moment before launching into a narrative. “You know, your grandma was less than a mile up the road from where we lived. I ever tell you that? Never did pay her a lick of attention until one day I saw her laughin’ and battin’ her lashes at one of them Branson boys. Well sir, I noticed right quick, that little gal had growed up mighty fine. Way too fine for the likes of a Branson! Made my mind up right then and there I’d have Millie for a wife. Thing is, she didn’t quite see it that way. Courted that stubborn woman for a good two years ’til she finally got sick and blame tired of me followin’ her around like an ornery hound dog. Reckon that’s why she finally give up and said she’d marry me. Why, she was just plumb wore out from tryin’ to get rid of me!”

  Of course I’ve heard this story countless times before, but it has me laughing along with Leah nonetheless. It’s not hard to imagine my headstrong grandmother playing hard-to-get with a young Joseph Bellamy. Not a day passed without those two sparring with one another, albeit in the most loving and affectionate way. He was devoted to her, and she worshipped him until the day she died.

  That was when he shattered. And there were pieces of him that were lost forever.

  He must be reminiscing about Grandma Millie as well. Lifting his chin, he stares at the TV with a faraway expression. I don’t think he’s watching the game anymore. I don’t even think he’s seeing what’s on the screen.

  Suddenly snapping out of his reverie, he looks over at Leah with a scowl. “Penny! ’Bout damn time you got here. We been waitin’ for I don’t know how long. You bring me that deck of poker cards like I told you to?”

  I open my mouth to intervene, but I’m not fast enough. Without missing a beat, Leah calmly replies, “I’m sorry…you know what, I totally forgot. Tell you what, though. I see a checkerboard over there by the window. Bet you a Grapico you can’t beat me two out of three.”

  We chat and reminisce for a good two hours while they play game after game of checkers. Showing remarkable restraint, my ornery grandfather somehow manages not to lose his temper and sling the checkerboard across the room. Not one single time.

  Although that could very well be because she’s letting him win on purpose.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “All right. Share. What’s so funny?”

  Spearing the last scallop on my plate, I pop it into my mouth in an effort to disguise my smirk. “Nothing. I was just wondering when I should bring up the fence.”

  The puzzled look on his face confirms that Myles has no clue what I’m talking about. “Fence? What fence?”

  “You tell me.” I shrug, feigning innocence. “Just before we left, your granddad whispered to me that I should ask you about getting your head stuck in the fence. So I was just wondering when I was going to hear about that.”

  Lifting his glass, he mutters something about selective memory before gulping his iced tea. I can’t be sure, but he seems almost embarrassed. Which means this is a story I definitely don’t want to miss.

  “So…?” I prompt him playfully.

  “It was my brother Ryder’s fault,” he grumbles. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “What wasn’t your idea? C’mon…tell me, tell me.”

  Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he exhales a sigh. “In my defense, I was only about eight or nine years old at the time.”

  “Gotcha. Young and stupid. Excellent defense. Continue.”

  “Like I said, it was that dumbass Ryder’s fault. He’s the one that told me and Quinn about the lady down the street. According to him, this chick would lay out in her back yard topless every afternoon during the summer. Well, naturally we couldn’t resist going to see for ourselves whether or not he was full of shit. So there we all are, the three of us popping our pervy little heads through the fence trying to get a look, when she spots us. ’Cause it’s not like we’re smart enough to be subtle or anything.”

  I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “Mm-hm. I see. And was he telling the truth?”

  “He was telling the truth. And it’s a wonder I wasn’t permanently traumatized from the experience. Somehow or another he forgot to mention that the woman in question was about seventy-five years old.”

  It’s a good thing I’ve already swallowed my scallop or I’d be in danger of choking on it right about now. “Oh, no…”

  “She jumped up and hollered, and those two took off like scared rabbits. Without me, I might add. I couldn’t get my fat head out of the damn fence.”

  Snorting a loud giggle, I cover my mouth with a napkin when some people sitting nearby turn their heads to look our way.

  “Picture a couple of socks, half full of sand, swinging ba-ack and forth...ba-ack and forth…”

  “Hey, I’m trying to eat here!” I protest through the napkin.

  “You were the one who wanted to hear this,” he reminds me. “At least the poor woman put on a cover-up before she came over and helped me get my head out.”

  This revelation brings on a fresh round of giggles. “She…oh my God, I can’t…she had to help
you get your head unstuck?”

  “Yep. And apparently she knew exactly who we were, because she marched right inside and called my parents and told them what we’d been up to.”

  I lower the napkin. “Uh-oh! Did you get in trouble?”

  “Quinn and I were too young to get in much trouble. Ryder, on the other hand, got an ass-chewing from my dad. Along with a lecture from my mom about privacy and respecting boundaries, that sort of thing. Just before he got grounded for a week.”

  “Serves the peeping tom right.” Still grinning, I brush the dampness from my eyes. “I bet your parents had their hands full with you rotten boys.”

  “They did, no doubt. And you can be sure they take every opportunity to pay us back. By sharing this and every other humiliating tale of terror we were involved in.”

  “You can’t blame them, can you? There has to be some compensation for having to deal with you stinkers.” Propping my elbows on the table, I rest my chin in my hands, tapping a finger against my lips thoughtfully. “You’re only two years older than me. How is it I don’t remember you or either of your brothers from school?”

  “Did you go to school here in Crestview?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there you go. We actually lived out in the country between here and Baker, but close enough to Baker that we ended up in their school district.”

  “Oh.” How odd to think that, living in such close proximity, we may very well have crossed paths at some point. Or maybe not. If I’d ever caught sight of those gorgeous blue eyes, I surely would’ve remembered them. “Do your parents still live there?”

  “They do.” Glancing up at the approaching waiter, he hands him a credit card before I have a chance to object. “In the same house they bought after we moved back from Tampa.”

  Two can play this game. Reaching into my purse, I fish out a ten-dollar bill and drop it on the table. If he insists on paying for lunch, then I can at least cover the tip. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’re Joe’s grandson. That is just too bizarre.”