“Wait a minute, Royce,” Elita called.
He hesitated a moment, then slammed the car door. “What is it, Elita? I’m in a hurry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be back?”
“It was an emergency. I didn’t think about it.”
“And I didn’t remember the CB and first aid kit in the Jeep.”
“It never occurred to me that you’d think I’d just run off.” He stopped, took a couple of ragged breaths as if trying to get control of his anger and disappointment. “I thought you knew me better. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you.”
“You don’t trust anyone, Elita. You think I’m a coward. You believe your father committed suicide, and you have this crazy-ass idea that Matt gave up being a fishing guide to become a pot grower.”
“It’s not like that!”
“Isn’t it? Hell, Elita, I don’t think you even trust yourself anymore.”
Dorothea honked the car horn twice.
“I’ve got to go.” Royce opened his car door. “Maybe you should go back to Chicago.”
Elita watched him drive off before turning to find her uncle standing on the sidewalk behind her. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.”
“Let me explain—”
“It’s been a long day. I’m tired, and the damn café was closed.” Matt dug in his pocket, pulled out his car keys. “Go tell your grandmother what’s happened and bring us back some sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.” He gave her his keys. “Maybe Royce is right.”
“About trusting you?” Her voice quivered.
“About Chicago.” He turned his back to her and walked toward the clinic.
The earlier crowd had scattered. A couple of guys finished their smoke, got into their truck and left. Elita stood alone in the dusty parking lot. The dank blackness of the bayou night enveloped her. Alone. Her mind kept repeating the word. She’d alienated all those she loved and now, she was alone. Or so she thought.
* * *
The shadowy woods across the road from the clinic were thick with hickory, oak, and loblolly pine. He moved silently from one tree to another as he watched her come and go from the clinic. He heard her pleading with both men for understanding, for forgiveness. Better still, he heard them tell her to go back to Chicago. Listen to them, girl. Leave before it’s too late for you, too.
No one in sight but her. He could go to her now, but that would be risky. Someone, maybe the uncle, might come outside and see him. They must never know what he’d done, what he’d become. They’d show him no pity or forgiveness. No, there’d be no mercy for him, not from man or God. He needed to retreat into the refuge of the Caddo. There, he was safe. Only one other knew of his grisly deeds, and he’d never tell. Even if he did, who’d believe the village idiot?
CHAPTER 22
Over the next few days, everyone in Caddo Parish talked about nothing except the July Fourth disaster. Newspapers from Houston, New Orleans, and Little Rock carried the story on their front pages. The death toll varied from the truth that one elderly man died from a heart attack brought on by his witnessing the tragedy, to the sensationalized story in northern tabloids that claimed five people drowned or burned to death. Radio stations and one national television network picked up the story and spent as much time debating why a town would name itself Uncertain as they did reporting about the accident.
Local hospital staff and Sheriff Glover’s office assured everyone that the one death was due to a heart attack and only three people needed extended hospital stays, one of them being Cliff Sutton. Three boats, including the rented paddlewheeler, had been destroyed while five others sustained little to moderate damage.
During this time, Elita did not attempt to contact her uncle or Royce, nor did they call her. She kept busy finishing up small projects for her grandmother and calling Chicago to check on school schedules. The realtor she hired to sell the Chicago house called to update her on two couples who’d shown serious interest in the house. Although it’d never seemed like home to her, Elita saw the house as a testament to the fortitude of the two Dupree women who’d spent five years restoring the once grand lady. The thought of boxing up her mother’s things and turning over the refurbished home to new owners left her short of breath and long on tears.
How many thumbs had she banged with a hammer the day she learned Royce was engaged to a senator’s daughter? How many gallons of white paint had she rolled onto the walls, while her mind scrolled scenes of Royce and her zipping across Caddo Lake, hunting isolated coves to park his boat in so they’d have privacy for making love? Elita recalled all the nights she and her mother sat on the kitchen floor, dog-tired, drinking water and eating lettuce and tomato sandwiches because there was no money for luxuries like wine and bacon.
Elita mentally compared the two places she’d lived. Chicago offered the opportunity to finish her pharmacy degree, which would be her ticket to anyplace she wanted to go. Her counselor assured her that with her good grades and experience working in a hospital pharmacy, she’d receive multiple job offers. Women were more accepted in the field now, especially in research and hospitals. A degree would give her independence.
For the first time in her life, she’d have enough money for a nice car and apartment. She would be able to afford wine, bacon and the occasional dinner out. And she’d do it all on the money she’d earn for doing a great job while helping sick people. What could be better than being independent and having your own money? Her mind instantly answered—Royce.
* * *
Mamaw Pearl answered a knock on her screen door. “Come on in.”
Virginia hesitated. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Dupree. I need to talk to Elita. Is she here?”
“She’s gettin’ the wash off the line.” Mamaw pushed open the screen door.
“I can go around the house. No need to bother you, ma’am.”
“You’re a Dupree now. You can come through. How’s my grandbaby?”
“Susan has a few scrapes and a small bump on her forehead, but the doctor said she’s fine. She and Darwin went to the hospital to visit Cliff.” Virginia stepped into the coolness of the screened porch. She wiped away a bead of sweat and followed her mother-in-law inside the house. “It’s sure hot today.”
“It’s Louisiana in July. What did you expect?” Pearl pointed at the icebox. “Pour us all a glass of tea while I fetch Elita. It’s time we all had a good long talk.”
“Where are the glasses?”
“In the cupboard, of course. Where else would they be?”
Virginia could put the most condescending business executive in his place faster than a bullfrog could snatch a hapless dragonfly, but Matt’s tiny, seventy-four-year-old mother could intimidate her without even trying. Perhaps it was because she wanted Pearl’s respect and approval and had never been able to gain either. She poured the tea too fast. The slight tremor in her hands caused her to spill tea on the counter and it dripped onto the old wood floor.
The back screen door slammed. Footsteps filled the hallway as Virginia frantically searched for paper towels to clean up the spill before Pearl returned.
“I see you’ve managed to spill the tea.” Pearl pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat.
“Sorry. I’ll clean it up.” Virginia looked around the kitchen again. “Where do you keep your paper towels?”
“Don’t use them. I see no use in spending good money on somethin’ made to throw away.”
Elita sat to the left of her grandmother. “They’re for convenience, Mamaw.”
“Convenience, huh? Every snake oil salesman claims that whatever he’s selling is for your convenience.” Pearl hung her cane on the back of her chair. “Convenience means he’s found a way to get you to keep giving him your money, while making you lazier in the process.”
Both Elita and Virginia bit their lips to stifle the chuckle bubbling up in their throats. Pearl Dupree wouldn’t take kindly to a
nyone laughing at her when she was dispensing her seeds of wisdom on paper towels or anything else.
Elita grabbed a kitchen towel hanging on the stove handle. “Use this, Virginia.” She threw her the towel.
Virginia cleaned up the spill, and passed out the glasses of tea. She parked herself across the table from Elita. She started to speak, but Elita gave a small wag of her finger and cut her eyes toward her grandmother. Everyone else in the county might defer to the Suttons, but in this house, Pearl Suzanne Dupree was the undisputed leader of their clan.
Pearl cleared her throat. “I’m glad you stopped by, Virginia. Saves me from having to call you and tell you to get over here.”
“Why did you want to see me? I thought—”
Pearl held up her hand, silencing Virginia. “You let me do the thinking and the talking. Later, you and Elita will have a lot to discuss, but I’ve been waitin’ eighteen years to have my say, and I’m going to have it now. And I ain’t gonna be interrupted.”
She looked at the women sitting at her kitchen table. Elita and Virginia both nodded.
“Good.” Pearl took a sip of her tea. “For eighteen years, I’ve had to watch my boy suffer in silence the loss of the woman he loves and his only child because Ronald J. Sutton stole his daughter from him.” She leveled a hard look at Virginia. “And you let him.”
The shock on Virginia’s face was palpable. “I …I was seventeen. A minor in the eyes of the law. I couldn’t stand up to my father alone, and Matt was with the Navy fighting the North Koreans. I tried, dammit. I tried.”
Pearl slapped her hand against the tabletop. “You could’ve come to me, to our family. We would’ve helped ya.”
“You didn’t know my father.” Virginia shook her head. “You have no idea what kind of man he was or what he was capable of doing.”
“I’d wager I knew Ronald Sutton better than you.” Pearl straightened. Her eyes locked with Virginia’s. “Ronnie, as we called him, and I grew up together. His family wasn’t that well-to-do at the time, and they depended on the Caddo for their living just like the Duprees. But our family respected the land and the water that provided us a home and food for our table. Your father never respected anything or anyone.”
“That’s rather harsh, Mamaw,” Elita said.
“Is it harsh, Virginia?” Pearl asked. “Am I lying about Ronnie Sutton?”
Virginia stared at her folded hands. “You’re telling the truth, Mrs. Dupree. My father could be a very cruel man.”
“Ronnie was a bully long before he had money,” Pearl said. “He bullied young’uns, women, and even older boys. Everyone was scared of him . . . everyone, except me. I stood up to him every time. I’d get right in his face. I wouldn’t put up with his tryin’ to terrorize me or anyone around me. That made me very popular with the other kids.” She turned to Elita. “You take after me in that way.”
“I suppose I do, but I recall getting into trouble for it sometimes.”
“So? What’s a little trouble if’n you’re doing right? If you’re not willin’ to stand up for yourself or others, you might as well throw your silly self into the Caddo and feed the gators. At least that way somethin’ good comes of ya.”
Elita picked up her glass of tea, but set it down without drinking. “Doesn’t anything scare you, Mamaw?”
“The only thing I fear is losin’ another child or grandbaby.” Pearl pulled a handkerchief out of her dress pocket and wiped the condensation off her glass of tea. “I’ve buried one child and one grandbaby. That’s the hardest thing a woman ever has to do. It goes against nature for a mother to outlive her children, and I pray the Good Lord won’t ever give me that burden again.”
“I can’t imagine losing Susan. I couldn’t bear such pain.”
Pearl leveled hard eyes at Virginia. “But ya asked my boy to bear that pain for years.”
“Yes, I did, and I regret hurting Matt more than I can ever say.”
Pearl rubbed the back of her fingers under her chin, while the two younger women waited her verdict. She’d never been one to accept excuses, but she might accept someone’s heartfelt apology. “Virginia, do ya plan on telling my granddaughter she’s a Dupree?”
“Matt, Darwin, and I have agreed that we should tell her eventually.”
“What does eventually mean?” Pearl asked. “Next week? Next year? On your death beds?”
Virginia stood. “When we decide Susan can understand the truth, we’ll tell her.”
“What child could ever understand how her parents, the people she loves and trusts most in this world, could ever intentionally lie to her about something so blasted important?” Pearl looked up at her new daughter-in-law. “You’ll always have her love because love resides in the heart, and the heart doesn’t take orders from the head. But, most likely you’ll lose her respect and trust, at least for awhile.”
Virginia slumped back into the chair. “Susan and I have always been so close; I don’t want to lose anything . . . not her love, respect or trust.”
Pearl patted Virginia’s hand. “I know all of ya will work hard to gain it back.”
Silent tears began to roll down Virginia’s face.
“Tell her the truth about how you, Darwin, and Uncle Matt did what you did to protect her because she was a child,” Elita said. “Susan is a smart, thoughtful young woman now, and it will be easier for her to understand parents lying to protect their child. But if you wait a long time before telling her—”
“She’ll think either we never intended to tell her the truth, or we didn’t believe she could handle it.”
“Elita’s right about this.” Pearl cocked an eyebrow at her granddaughter as she grabbed her cane. Using her cane and the tabletop for support, the Dupree matriarch pushed to her feet. “I expect to see my entire family around this table for Christmas dinner and I expect both my granddaughters to be calling me Mamaw.”
Virginia licked her lips. “We’ll certainly try—”
“Less trying. More doing.” Pearl rapped her cane against the side of the table. “Just remember, love without trust is a blind love, and that always makes a person fearful. Its only gifts are a restless soul and a befuddled mind.” She straightened. “Now that I’ve had my say, I’m gonna lie down for a spell. You two have a lot to explain to each other.” She turned and headed toward the bedrooms. “Remember to get the rest of the wash off the line, Elita.”
“Why would you say that? I’ve never forgotten before.”
“Always thought you had good sense before,” Pearl said over her shoulder. “Lately, I’m not so sure.”
Virginia waited until the bedroom door clicked closed before asking what Pearl meant.
Elita shrugged. “She’s mad because I suspected Uncle Matt of . . . .”
“Of selling marijuana?”
“Uncle Matt told you about my argument with Royce in front of the clinic?”
Virginia nodded. “He felt devastated. How could you think that about your uncle?”
“He wasn’t accepting much work as a guide, but he still had money for bills. He stayed out nights, ordered new boat brochures, and started wearing a Rolex.”
“I gave him the watch as a birthday present.”
“I didn’t know anything about your relationship when I found some marijuana plants on Tadpole Island. I thought perhaps he was selling a few plants to pay bills. That’s why I never mentioned them to Sheriff Glover.”
“Matt’s been spending his nights with me. We’ve been working on our new business.”
“What new business?”
“Earlier this year, I arranged for Matt to take a business acquaintance, Leo Garr, on a fishing trip. He owns thirty-six sporting goods stores across the country and is always looking for new products. Matt let him use some of his hand-tied flies. Leo loved them and offered Matt an exclusive contract to sell them in his stores.”
“Why would Uncle Matt keep such good news a secret?”
“Because Leo gave him a very lucra
tive advance on the condition he’d deliver 5000 units in time for the July 4th holiday sales. Matt wanted to be sure the deal went through before telling anyone.” Virginia poured more tea. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to design, create, and package that many flies?”
“Is that what he’s been doing at night?”
“Yes. I rented the old Bowman house and we’ve spent our evenings filling the order. Matt made the flies and I packaged them. We delivered them to Leo last week in Las Vegas. There was a big sportsmen convention going on. Leo wanted to display them in his store’s booth to see what kind of reception they’d get.”
“How did they do?”
“Sold out. Now, Leo wants Matt to supply his stores and his catalogue customers with Dupree’s hand-tied flies.” Virginia laughed. “I have no idea how we’ll produce that many units. I found some warehouse space in Shreveport we could rent, but Matt wants to build around here and hire local people. That reminds me.” Virginia opened her purse, pulled out a check, and handed it to Elita. “Here’s your part for the first sales.”
“My part? I didn’t play a part in his business.”
“Most of the designs are ones Yancy and Matt came up with together. As your father’s heir, you’re entitled to a royalty.”
Elita studied the check. It was made out to her and was for $543.56. Enough for a deposit on an apartment near the university. Enough for a down payment on a used car and a one-way plane ticket back to Chicago. She’d received $543.56 for doing nothing except being Yancy Dupree’s daughter. Somehow that didn’t sound right to her.
Elita pushed the check across the table to Virginia. “I can’t take this. You and Uncle Matt did all the work. I’m sure Daddy would want his brother to have the designs.”
Virginia didn’t pick up the check. “You’ll have to work that out with Matt. He told me to give you this check and that’s what I’m doing.”
“I don’t blame him for being mad at me. I’m mad at myself,” Elita said. “Why would he want to give me anything?”
”Because he loves you.” Virginia reached across the table and took Elita’s hand. “Your family is wonderful. Sure you disagree sometimes, and sometimes one of you will do or say something that hurts another family member. But it’s never deliberate and it’s always forgivable.” She gave Elita’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Believe me when I tell you that’s not the case in many families, including the one I grew up in.” Virginia stood. “The check is yours. I imagine you could use it, especially if you go back to college, which I hope you do.”
Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy Page 23