Etta Mae's Worst Bad-Luck Day

by Ann B. Ross

  Still, I couldn’t let on that, if everything went as planned, I wouldn’t need either a job, even if it was a managerial one, or her free trailer space much longer.

  Trying to show the proper respect and appreciation, which I knew she’d expect, I said, “Thank you, Mrs. Springer, ma’am. I accept your offer, and I’ll do a good job for you, too. And, Hazel Marie, I really do thank you for thinking of it.”

  That was about all I could manage in the way of gratitude. Although I really did appreciate Hazel Marie’s efforts on my behalf. I had a sneaking feeling that if it’d been up to Mrs. Springer, her charitable proposition would’ve been in the form of an eviction notice.

  I took my leave then, as Mrs. Springer stood to indicate the business meeting was over. Hazel Marie hugged me again, saying, “Let’s get together for lunch real soon.”

  She meant well, I knew, but when did I have time for lunch with my schedule of bedridden, crippled, arthritic, and needy patients filling my days? Which, as far as Hazel Marie knew, was what I’d be keeping on at, day in and day out, without the free time that she now enjoyed.

  How soon they forget.

  • • •

  As I drove away, I couldn’t decide whether I was mad at being treated like a charity case or secretly tickled at how Julia Springer was going to feel when she learned she’d thrown a bone to the newest Abbot County society lady.

  On the other hand, I had to admit that if Mr. Howard hadn’t been in my immediate future and I’d had to keep struggling on the pitiful salary Lurline paid me, I’d’ve been on cloud nine at the thought of freeing up that rent money. I could’ve had the AC in the car fixed or Bernie’s recliner upholstered to match my new couch. Or maybe both, over time.

  But that was neither here nor there now. The rest of the day and all I had to get done loomed in my mind, and my pulse rate jumped at the thought.

  At the first red light, I checked Julia Springer off my list and hoped to my soul that she stayed checked.

  Chapter 16

  By the time I got back to Delmont, I’d set my mind to concentrating on Skip. I swear, I didn’t need him showing up right at the most complicated time of my life. But he had, and I had to deal with him.

  I skirted Main Street, going out Dell Street and turning onto Springer Road to the far side of town where Lurline lived. Her house was on the opposite side of the highway from the trailer park on a nice lot that had once been part of a farm, but had been built up considerably in the last few years. It was a small house compared to its new neighbors, but she kept it and the yard neat as a pin. The one-story redbrick house, with its white metal railings around the front porch, sat back from the road under an old oak. I pulled into the drive, then drove on to park in the shade of the metal carport next to the house.

  Lurline’s yard was freshly mown, without a weed in it and not a sprig of grass cuttings on the driveway or the porch steps. I walked onto the porch, crowded with an umbrella stand, three side tables, two rocking chairs, and a swing that hadn’t been used since Raymond passed. Lurline couldn’t stand to sit out front where people driving by could look at her, but Raymond had enjoyed waving at cars as they went by.

  Before I could knock, Skip opened the door with a rush of cold air from the window air conditioners.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” he said. “Where you been, Etta Mae? We got to plan this thing out.”

  I stepped into Lurline’s living room while he closed and locked the door. A large brown sofa with a multicolored crocheted afghan over the back took up one whole wall, with two beige recliners facing it in front of the picture window. A lamp on a table stood between them, which was supposed to look pretty from the street, but Lurline kept her lace curtains closed against the sun and prying eyes. A twenty-four-inch color television on a rollaround stand took up most of the far wall, placed as it was in front of a never-used fireplace.

  I put my purse on the coffee table, careful not to get the blue plastic flower arrangement, The Living Bible, the TV Guide, and the colonial girl figurine out of line. Lurline was real touchy about keeping her decor just so, and I wondered how long she’d be able to put up with Skip and his messy ways.

  “All right, Skip,” I said, sitting down on the sofa. “Let’s hear it, and I mean everything.”

  “You’re gonna love it,” he said, grinning as he sat in one of the recliners. “And you’re not gonna believe it.”

  “I’ll believe it, all right. After what happened at my trailer last night, I’m ready to believe anything. Now get to it, and don’t leave anything out.”

  “Okay,” he said, hitching himself up in the chair. “Here’s how it was. I’ve been working at a Texaco station in Gastonia right off the interstate, a big one, lots of business. And doin’ good, too, Etta Mae. You’d of been proud of me. Okay, okay,” he said, seeing me roll my eyes, “I’m getting to it. Anyway, there was these two other ole boys, mechanics, friends of mine, who I knew from when we all used to live here in Delmont, that worked there, too. And we decided that we ought to go in together and go down to Georgia where big money’s piled up and buy us some lottery tickets.”

  That sounded like Skip. Always looking for the easy money, convinced that with just one little piece of luck, he’d have it all. Myself now, I never believed in luck. Just hard work, and taking opportunities as they happened to come along.

  “So?”

  “So we pooled our money and drew straws to see who’d drive down and buy the tickets, and if any of them won, we’d split it three ways. And I won. I mean, I drew the short straw and I took all our money—five hundred dollars between us—and went down across the state line and bought our tickets.”

  I just stared at him. Five hundred dollars those idiots had thrown away, and I’d bet that ordinarily the three of them didn’t have two nickels to rub together. But Skip was proud of what they’d done, sitting over there with his eyes lit up.

  “I can’t wait to hear the rest of this,” I said.

  “Well, the way it happened was like this. I bought the tickets, then as I was going out the store down there, I looked through my billfold and I had one five-dollar bill left. It was either use it for a Taco Bell dinner or another lottery ticket. You know, just for luck. So I bought one for myself and put it away, separate from the others.

  “And, Etta Mae,” he said, his face shining and his voice gasping with excitement, “my ticket won. That little ole last-minute, spur-of-the-minute ticket won two million dollars!”

  “Get real, Skip. What’re you doing hiding out in Delmont if you’d won that kind of money?”

  “Well, see, that’s the problem. We put the five hundred dollars’ worth of tickets that belonged to the three of us in the safe at the Texaco station, so nobody could cheat on us, see? But I didn’t say nothing about my extra ticket. I mean, I didn’t have to tell about that one. I was the one had to take off from work and go down there and get ’em. And anybody else’d do the same thing, buy an extra one with his own money. Which is what I did. I didn’t use our pool money for that one. Didn’t even buy it in the same batch.”

  “You’re saying that extra ticket won?”

  “Yeah! Can you believe it? It was a winner! Man, I still can’t believe it, but it’s right here in my pocket just waitin’ to be changed into two million dollars!” He flopped back against the chair, letting his arms dangle over the sides.

  “And you told them?”

  “Huh? Oh, well, yeah, Etta Mae, I couldn’t keep it to myself, now could I? I mean, when I looked at the numbers on the TV and saw the very same ones on my ticket, well, what would you do?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yeah I do. Come on, Etta Mae, just tell me what you’d do if you’d won that kind of money.”

  “I’d pack my things and slip out of town without telling a soul. Skip, I swear, didn’t you know those two would figure
you owed them something?”

  “Well, no. I mean, it was my own money, not any of theirs, that I bought it with. But I guess you’re right. After I let out a whoop you could hear a mile around and showed everybody the winning ticket, I guess maybe I should’ve known not everybody’d be happy for me. But I don’t know why they wouldn’t. I bought it fair and square.”

  “It’s a wonder somebody didn’t knock you over the head and steal it from you. Which I think somebody tried to do in my trailer last night.”

  “Well, but I wasn’t there.”

  “That’s not the point, Skip,” I pointed out to him, so exasperated with him I could’ve knocked him out myself. “The point is, if we’re guessing right on what happened to Junior Connard, somebody followed you to Delmont, and since they didn’t find the ticket on Junior or in my trailer, which they tore apart, they’re still here looking for you.”

  His eyes got wide, as his brain worked through what I’d said. “That’s right! Shoot fire, I bet they’re lookin’ all over for me right now.” He leaned over to look toward the door.

  “What’re we gonna do, Etta Mae?”

  “We?”

  “Why, sure. I’m gonna share this with you, hon, you know that. I mean, you took me in when I didn’t know where else to go, and what am I gonna do with two million, when one’s aplenty for me?”

  “If you feel that way, why don’t you just share it with those friends of yours, and get them off your back?”

  “They ain’t gonna be satisfied with that. They want it all. Said I’d cheated them. And you know I never cheated in my life, Etta Mae. This was fair and square, and on the up and up all the way down the line. Now, hon, I want you to think about this, ’cause I feel like I kinda owe you a little. You know, for all the good times we had and for helping me out now. I’ll do it either way, but if you’ll help me get the money safe in a bank somewheres, and help me stay hid while we’re doin’ it, we’ll share and share alike. Or, and this is what I’m hoping for, let’s us get married again and we’ll have all of it together.”

  “No, no, and no,” I said, holding up both hands and shaking my head. “Don’t even think it. We’ve tried that, and I’m not getting into it with you again. So you can just forget about getting married again.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind it, Etta Mae.”

  “But I would. No offense, Skip, but we just weren’t made for each other.”

  “Okay, then, but if you change your mind . . .”

  “I won’t. Now, let’s figure out what you have to do. Where do you have to go to pick up that money? Atlanta?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Then call the Asheville Airport and see when you can get a plane out. Then call whoever is supposed to give you the money and tell them what time you’ll be landing so they’ll have somebody waiting for you there.”

  “They’ll do that?”

  “I expect they’ll know you have to be careful with that ticket. Whoever presents it to them is the winner, you know, and it might not have to be the one who actually bought it.”

  “A limo,” he said. “Reckon they’ll send a limo?”

  “I don’t know, Skip. More likely a cop car, but you have more things to worry about than a set of wheels. Now, what you ought to do is stay right here in Lurline’s house and not go out at all. Don’t answer the phone or the door, because I’m betting it was your buddies in my trailer last night, looking for you, and I’ll bet they’re still looking.”

  “How’m I gonna get to the airport?”

  “Let me think a minute.” I leaned an elbow on my knee and rested my chin in my hand, thinking. “You could get Lurline to drive you, but if I were you, I’d not tell her anything that’s going on. She can’t help it, but she can’t keep a secret to save her life. So,” I said with a sigh, “I guess I’ll have to take you, but I can’t do it until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “You’re not gonna regret this, hon, I promise. I’ll be the happiest man in the world when I hand you a million dollars.”

  “Oh, Skip, I don’t want your money. You just worry about staying out of sight. Now, I’ve got to go, so let me get up from here.”

  He frowned, hanging his head to one side. “I kinda thought we’d spend some time thinkin’ up ways to spend all that money. You know, new cars—you sure do need one—maybe a trip. I was thinkin’ about going over to Cherokee to that new casino they got over there.”

  “Skip, honey, you’ve won on a gamble, now don’t go losing it on more gambling. You put that money in the bank and live on the interest, like rich folks do. I’m going now,” I said, standing up and tearing a sheet off my notepad. “Here’s where you can reach me if there’s more trouble. It’s Mr. Connard’s house. I have to go by and see about him since his son’s in the hospital.”

  He looked so down in the mouth about me leaving that I stopped beside his chair and kissed the top of his head. Just a big ole baby was all he was, and he needed somebody to take care of him. Only it wasn’t going to be me.

  “Stay locked in, now,” I told him at the door. “Delmont’s not that big, and if they’re still looking for you, they’ll find you. What do they look like, in case I see them?”

  “You know ’em. It’s Harley and Roy.”

  I turned around and stared at him. “Harley and . . . ? Puckett? You mean Harley and Roy Puckett? My God, Skip, a Puckett’d as soon kill you as look at you. I didn’t know you were mixed up with that trash.”

  He shrugged. “They’re all right. Roy got me my job at the Texaco station, after I ran into ’em at a Strong Man contest. They been in Gastonia for a while, workin’ and makin’ good money. It’s just when they get mad that you have to stay outta their way.”

  “Well, see that you do,” I told him, leaving the house and hoping he’d stay there. That Puckett riffraff was Delmont’s claim to fame in the jail-time category, and had been for generation after generation for as long as anybody could remember. Well, except for Hazel Marie.

  I got in the car and sat for a minute, wondering if I’d been too hasty. Skip was as honest as the day is long, and if he’d promised to give me half of his winnings, he’d do it. So there it was, all the money I’d ever need. All I had to do was throw in with him and I’d be set for life. All my bills paid, no more worries, and he wouldn’t expect a thing out of me. No marriage, no fooling around if I put my foot down hard enough. He’d be as good as his word. I could have what I needed with no strings attached.

  I opened the car door to go back inside, then thought about it some more. Was money what I wanted? All I wanted? I rubbed the back of my neck where an ache was starting up again, and thought of Valerie Connard and that receptionist and Clyde Maybry and Mrs. Julia Springer, and a dozen others who’d treated me like dirt. What I wanted, Skip couldn’t give me and neither could a million dollars. Only Mr. Howard’s name could do for me what I wanted. Although it didn’t hurt that he had enough money to back up his name.

  I crossed out number 8 on my list, swung my legs back into the car, and turned on the ignition.

  Chapter 17

  Checking my watch as I headed back toward downtown Delmont, I worried about getting everything on my list done. Time was the problem. I had to have Mr. Howard at the Abbot County Courthouse to get our license before the Register of Deeds office closed at five o’clock, and I personally wanted to be there early enough to get the entire deed done today. Both license and ceremony, considering that Junior might be home tomorrow with a clear head and a change of heart.

  I wasn’t worried about finding either the Register of Deeds office or the magistrate’s office if we didn’t have time to get to the Reverend Haliday’s church. I’d made that civil circuit twice before on my marital rounds. It seemed to me, though, that it was time for me to have a church wedding, even if nobody attended but the immediate wedding party, and it was held in a country church instead
of the First Methodist.

  I could just picture Mr. Howard waiting in his wheelchair—I didn’t want to put a strain on him by making him stand at the altar—and me walking down the aisle toward him.

  Flowers! I’d forgotten about flowers. Every bride ought to have flowers, even if it was only a white orchid corsage on her shoulder or, even better, strapped on her wrist. What I’d really like, though, was a nice spray of baby’s breath and white roses. Well, maybe pink ones would be more proper. Whatever, I wanted one with a handle underneath that I could hold at my waist as I walked down the aisle. Sadie’s Floral Shop could make one up, that was no problem. The problem was time. And heat. Even if everything went according to plan, my wedding bouquet would be a wilted mess by the time the knot was ready to be tied.

  So, glancing at my watch again, I decided to forget about florist flowers. I could pick something from Mrs. Howard Connard, Senior’s garden, if it came to that. And if anything was blooming.

  I slowed as I entered Main Street and drove toward the center of town, watching the street signs. The Laundromat I was looking for was on Maple, just a few doors off Main. There was good parking beside it, and it was the cleanest and quietest one in town.

  As I parked, fuming over having to wash clothes on my special day, I had to calm myself down with the reminder that you have to take things as they come. You just have to deal with the unexpected, even if it tears your plans all to hell and back.

  Thinking of whoever’d trashed my trailer the night before—and it had to’ve been those filthy Pucketts—made me mad all over again. I didn’t need to be washing and drying clothes on my wedding day. Whoever heard of such a thing? Yet I couldn’t bring myself to go into married life with dirty clothes, especially underclothes, considering the way they’d gotten that way with you-know-whose nasty hands all over them. I could’ve asked Emmett to run them through at Mr. Howard’s house while we went to get the license. That would’ve relieved my anxiety about time, but I just couldn’t ask Emmett to deal with my lingerie. It’s so personal, you know. As the second Mrs. Howard Connard, Senior, I needed to be aware of such niceties.