Rise and Shine (Shine On Series, Book 2)

by Jewell, Allison J.

  Emmie made her way to the bureau in the den. She forced open the bottom drawer and lifted some old shabby quilts to reveal the box Silas had found weeks ago. She might be willing to use Silas’s money but she wouldn’t use a dime of Marco Del Grande’s. That was being sent back to him immediately. Emmie wanted to owe that man nothing. Not Money. Not explanations. Not love. Nothing.

  She found an envelope and put all six hundred seventy dollars in and zipped it up in her purse. She knew she should head to town to get her business done but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. It felt too good to be home… but her home didn’t exactly look good. How could an empty house get so dirty? Spotty followed her from room to room for hours as she fluffed pillows, beat the dust from quilts, and swept the floor. She knew he wasn’t happy by the way he sighed each time he was forced to walk a few feet into the new room. When she opened the door to her mother and Ronnie’s room it took her breath away for a minute. She pushed back the emotion and swept the floors. She dug a box out of the closet and started loading up Ronnie’s clothes. There was so much in there that she hadn’t dealt with, it was time to start. Ronnie had been gone almost six months. He wasn’t going to get use of these clothes anymore. She was sure there were folks in town that needed pants or a good pair of boots. She threw out all of his underclothes and boxed everything else up. It was too heavy to carry to the church right now, assuming that was the most sensible place to unload the belongings. Maybe she could get Walt to drive her to the church this week.

  Emmie shredded one of his old work shirts to use as cleaning rags. She folded them and put them in a drawer in the kitchen. She took one back to the bedroom and began to wipe down the dark wooden dresser that held her mother’s old clothes and scrap fabrics. Her hand stilled as she lifted an old faded photograph. Staring back at here were her own eyes. She couldn’t have been over a year old. She was sitting on her mother’s lap. Emmie looked at the photograph for the first time. She didn’t recognize the place. What few photos Emmie had of herself were taken at this house. Most had been taken just a couple of yards away on the front porch. This one was in a proper studio. Her mother’s hair was pressed back in a neat bun and her dress was new. It wasn’t a dress Emmie ever saw her wear. She ran her fingers over the glass. Her own baby dress was expensive. She pulled it closer for a better look. It had intricate lace ruffling down the long white skirt. She never remembered being dressed so nice as a child. Emmie’s stomach sank as a suspicion filled her mind. Flipping the frame over she noticed this frame was done professionally. A little imprint of the studio was pressed into the black backing.

  Todd Baker Studio, Chicago, Illinois 1902

  The photograph fell to the floor. Her heart pounded. Thoughts raced through her mind. All her life. All her life. She had lived around this lie. How many more things were to be found in this house? How many more people had let her live in darkness? Her hands shook as she pulled the dust rag off the dresser. Shattered glass spilled onto her feet and all over the freshly swept floor. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the mess. She didn’t care about the photograph. She left them all right where they lay and took a step back staring down at the mess at her feet. Little bits of the truth had surrounded her all this time. If only she had known the right questions to ask. But she hadn’t known, had she? Just like with that Smith boy the other night… she’d always been naïve. Silas was right in what he said. She overlooked things her whole life. Emmie wrapped the dust rag around her hands and bent down to face the broken glass. But she couldn’t bring herself to sweep it up. She just looked at it, lost in her thoughts.

  “Emmie, Emmie. You here girl?” a familiar voice called from the kitchen.

  By the time she glanced up he was already in the doorway. His smile dropped to a frown as he stepped into the room. “Ya alright, Emmie?”

  She nodded and swallowed hard as she stood to meet him stepping over the broken glass. It was so good to see him. She could count on two hands the number of times she had hugged Walter in her life but this was one of those times. He was startled at first and let his hands dangle at his sides before he wrapping them around her. His long white beard scuffed her cheeks. He didn’t speak. Walter knew when to ask questions and when not to. He clearly understood this was more than an accidental break. This was more like a nervous breakdown. She sobbed into his overalls and he patted her head. She couldn’t say how long they stood there like that. Two seconds, twenty minutes? He didn’t move, just stood stone-still until she was done. When her shoulders had stilled he grabbed a hold of them and pulled back, bending down to look her right in the eye.

  “I ain’t gotta know,” he said, leaving the rest unfinished.

  She nodded, understanding his meaning. She didn’t have to tell him what that was about. It was odd that she sort of wanted to but when she opened her mouth she couldn’t find the words, so she stuck to the basics.

  “I just,” she swallowed, “when I was up there in Louisville I found out I’ve been lied to by people I cared about.”

  Walter bit his lower lip processing the information. It made his chin whiskers stick straight up. He always did this when worrying over a problem. She could tell he was thinking of asking more, even though he said he didn’t have to know.

  He hooked his thumbs under his overalls and walked past her to the broken photo. He looked down at it for a moment before speaking. “And you being lied to… has it got to do with the picture on the other side of this glass?”

  Emmie nodded.

  Walter leaned down slowly and retrieved the photo from the shattered glass. He slowly flipped it over and looked surprised at the image in his hand. He frowned and nodded before placing the picture back on the dresser and walking out of the room. “Just checking,” he said as he walked past her.

  She opened her mouth to ask what he was checking but didn’t get the chance. Walter started talking again. “Came to get ya for dinner. Max told us you were stayin’ here all alone last night and Mae figures you ain’t got a crumb in this house since you been stayin’ at the DeCarmilla’s house the last month.”

  He gave her a pointed look. Walter almost never gave her a look like that. Was he mad at her for staying with Ava the last month? She supposed she hadn’t seen them as often as she should have but Walter didn’t usually care about that sort of thing.

  “Walter is there something you got on your mind about me staying with Ava?” she asked, folding her arms self-consciously around her chest.

  “No. I ain’t got no problem with you staying with Ava.” He pulled out his pipe and lit it up. For the first time she noticed something funny. He used his smoking as a distraction from uncomfortable conversations, the same way Silas did. Two very different men with the same habits.

  “Well, that’s good. Because I thought when you said—” she started but he didn’t let her finish.

  “It ain’t Ava I got a problem with you staying with. Ava’s not the only one at that house. And there isn’t a parent to be found in that grand house you been sleeping in,” he said, looking down at his pipe.

  “I’m an adult, Walter. I don’t need to hear this,” she said her voice shaking.

  “Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow and took a puff from his pipe. “Well, just ain’t sure it’s Christian-like for you to be staying there with all them boys in and out. Doing God knows what.”

  “Walter, don’t you be giving me Christian-like speeches. You are the one making the liquor in my cave.” She smirked.

  Walter grunted in retort. It wasn’t a word but she understood the sound. He didn’t like her staying in the same house as Silas. Thankfully he didn’t come right out and say it though. That was a conversation she did not want to have with the old man.

  “Well, you coming to dinner or not? You ain’t gonna have time to make it to the store today and judging by the site of your empty kitchen you don’t got a bit of food fit for eating in this house,” he said, looking at his pipe again.

  “Yeah
, I’d love dinner. I just made a grocery list but haven’t had the chance to get into town yet.” She tried to explain.

  “Well we best get going then. Mae’s been cooking up a feast all morning. Max has been helping too. He even popped open one of them fine gingham-covered jars of applesauce you made.” Walter smiled with wide eyes at his little joke. He acted like he hated that she’d made that apple pie shine but he made a little jab about it every opportunity he could.

  “Sounds good to me,” Emmie said, ignoring the gingham comment. Hearing Max’s name reminded her, “Hey, did Max tell you how he got so muddy yesterday?”

  “Yep.”

  “You okay with him going to the cave?”

  “Yep.”

  She waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Which gave Emmie a sneaking suspicion that she needed to head to the cave herself. Walter patted the bed of his truck and Spotty hopped up into the back. Emmie arched an eyebrow at Walter. She couldn’t believe he’d let the dog in the car.

  “It’s just he ain’t as young as he used to be and he’s a pretty good old thing,” Walter answered her without waiting for the question.

  She stepped up into the cab and closed the door when she remembered something she had forgotten to ask him.

  “Walt, what’d you mean when you looked at my picture and said ‘just checking’ earlier?”

  He puffed his pipe for a moment before he finally answered her. “You show up here all alone in your house again. I come in and find you crying… saying you been lied to. I was just checking that I didn’t need to head up to Chicago and shoot some damn Yankee boy.”

  Emmie frowned for a moment, thinking through his words before their meaning sank in.

  “Oh, Walter. Stop looking for an excuse to shoot Silas.” She rubbed her forehead.

  A belly laugh erupted from his chest like she had never heard. It was like music, pure joy. She only wished the sound hadn’t come from his wanting to put a hole through her boyfriend… or whatever she and Silas were at this moment.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Mmm, mmm. Mama Mae. That was the best fried chicken I think I ever did have,” Max said, clearing his plate.

  Mae grinned and patted her grandson’s head. “You say that every time I cook it, boy.”

  “It was good, Mae. I’m stuffed like a pig. My chicken’s always burned up. I can’t ever get the grease right,” Emmie said.

  “Well next time you come over early and I’ll show ya how I do it. You’re a good cook. You could learn it real quick. Maybe you could show me your applesauce recipe.” She moved from the table to the sink.

  “Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Emmie answered.

  Walter headed outside to check on something to do with the farm while the three of them cleaned the kitchen. Some little boys didn’t help in the kitchen but Max never minded helping Mae. But as Emmie watched him balance plates in his hands and move around the kitchen she noticed he was limping more noticeable than in the past. He tripped over a chair and Mae caught the dish right before it hit the ground. Max caught himself on a chair.

  “Max, go check on Paw. See if he needs help bringing the horses into the barn,” Mae said to her grandson.

  When he was out the door she stopped and looked up at Emmie. “You notice it too don’t ya? He’s having more trouble walking.”

  “Yeah. He fell at my house yesterday. What’s happened?” she asked with genuine concern.

  “I don’t know.” Mae rubbed her hands in her apron. “I can’t get Walter to own to it either. Doctor said it’s something to do with the muscles in his leg. It might be keeping it from growing right.”

  Emmie nodded. If his legs weren’t growing at the same rate that might account for the extra limping. Her heart sank. “Well, what can we do?”

  Mae sat down and rubbed her forehead. “Walter don’t want to talk about. He acts like if he don’t talk about it there’s nothing wrong with the boy.”

  Mae dug deep in her apron pocket and pulled out a folded paper. On it was a name, Dr. Jonah T. Stone, and an address in Louisville. She handed it over to Emmie.

  “Is this someone that can help him?” Emmie asked, trying to piece it all together.

  Mae nodded. She looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to ask.

  “Have you written to the doctor?” Emmie asked, trying to get Mae to explain how she could help in this process.

  Mae nodded again. The older woman’s eyes were set with deep wrinkles as she frowned. This time Emmie stayed quiet and waited for Mae to explain.

  She whispered as she spoke. Which was odd because they were the only ones in the house. “I did. And he can see Max. He even called me on the phone. He seemed interested in Max and how he used his arms. He asked me lots of questions about the braces Walt made for his legs when he was a toddler and how we got him to walk. You know there were days back then Walt and I didn’t know…” Mae swallowed hard and finished, “we didn’t know what kinda life our boy would have.”

  Emmie reached out and grabbed the older woman’s hand when she stopped speaking. Her lower lip trembled but she smiled. “But he’s done great hasn’t he? He walks. He even runs. You said he’s smart. God’s blessed us with that boy.” Mae pushed back against the tears. She was a proud woman.

  “He is a smart boy. But Mae, you’re gonna take him to see this Dr. Stone aren’t ya? He’s interested in Max and thinks he might be able to help him.”

  “No, child.” Mae frowned. “Turns out our trip to Dr. Stone won’t come cheap.”

  “Is that why Walter won’t take him, the money?” Emmie asked, surprised.

  Mae stood and plunged the pots in a pan of water. She didn’t want to face Emmie for that question. “I love my husband. Ornery as he is, he’s a good man. You know that. He acts like he don’t care. Gets snaky and grouchy. But ain’t ever met a man with a bigger heart. Also ain’t met a more prideful man. I said we could talk to the bank or maybe you could talk to your DeCarmilla friends, maybe we could get a bit of a loan. You know we would have paid it back.”

  Mae still kept her back to Emmie while she spoke. Emmie had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t only Walter’s pride that hurt to ask for money. “You want me to talk to Ava’s family?”

  “No, child. Walter won’t hear no part of that.” She turned to face Emmie. “I shouldn’t be worrying you with this anyway. It’s just heavy on my heart and I know you care for that boy too. I’m sorry. Let’s have dessert. I got a cake made for tonight. You want some?”

  “Mae you can’t drop this ball and just ask if I want dessert. Let me help you figure this out.” Emmie smiled at her friend. “Y’all have been taking care of me. What kind of friend would I be if I wouldn’t help you?”

  Mae smiled. “I knew you’d help. I told Walter you’d feel just like me. You’d do anything for that boy but he said it was too much to ask.”

  Emmie frowned. Mae had talked to Walter about needing Emmie? What did Mae have planned? Maybe she knew about Marco’s money. Emmie’s stomach turned. She wanted to mail that money back to him. But, she supposed it would be better to use it to help Max.

  “What’s so expensive about this doctor Mae?” Emmie asked.

  “Well, this doctor wants us to stay up there. He says he needs to observe Max in this hospital. Did you know there are other kids just like Max? He could see them other children that are like him everyday. Doctors and nurses, they would work with him. Doc even said something about there might be special shoes to help with the limping.” Mae’s voice sped up with each new detail she shared. She was so excited with the prospect of helping her grandson. “He said we’d need to stay up there at least a month, maybe two. So, it’s not just the doctor bills, it’s the living in another city too. We ain’t got no family there to stay with. I figure we’d need a few hundred. But dear Lord, who’s got money like that just laying around waiting to be spent?”

  She could tell by Mae’s expression she didn’t expect that Emmie had that money folde
d in an envelope on her kitchen table at home. Emmie sighed. Never say never. Hadn’t she just told herself earlier today she wouldn’t be in debt to Marco? It looks like she would, for Max anyway. He was worth more than her pride. He needed that money more than she or Marco Del Grande did. Emmie swallowed hard and smiled at Mae. She’d never been in a position to help anyone like this before. It felt good.

  “Mae, I’ve got that money. You can just have it. I don’t want it. I can go get it for you now if you want.” Emmie kept her voice quiet.

  “Are you kidding with me, child? How on earth would you have that kinda cash just laying around?” Mae frowned.

  “I found it. Well, Silas found it actually. Hidden in my house. It turns out it was sent to me by my…” Emmie paused before she said the word, “… father.”

  Mae tilted her head taking in the information without speaking for a moment. A piece of her long grey bun came undone and fell to her shoulders. Emmie noticed she looked more haggard than usual. She finally nodded in understanding. “I’m assuming you ain’t talking about Ronnie.”

  “No. I’m not.” Emmie looked down at her feet. “And I don’t want his money. He’s not a nice man. I don’t want to owe him anything. It’d be an honor to give you the money. Like some good came from all this.”

  “Oh God… he works in such mysterious ways.” Mae’s hand shook as she covered her mouth. She stepped forward as tears sprang from her eyes and she put her dry, wrinkled hands on each side of Emmie’s face. “Bless you girl. Sweet, sweet girl.”

  “What’s all this ruckus about?” Walter asked gruffly as he walked into the kitchen. Max and Spotty followed in his footsteps.

  “Emmie’s got the money. We can take him to Louisville. It’s all gonna work out Walter.” Mae walked over to her husband.

  Max didn’t share his grandmother’s excitement. He looked over at his paw in anticipation of his response.