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What Matters in Mayhew (The Beanie Bradsher Series Book 1)

Page 14

by Cassie Dandridge Selleck


  The large sprawling farmhouse was structurally sound, but required new footers to bring it up to code and to build the addition they would need. The heart pine floors were covered with linoleum and carpet, the plaster walls were bare in places, and the last time he’d gone out there, he noticed a family of squirrels had taken up residence in the attic. The roof needed replacing and they would have to install an HVAC unit and ductwork because the house was never air-conditioned, unless you counted the two window units his parents installed when they moved in to care for Mam and Pap.

  Bubba John remembered those years with a mix of joy and pain. As he and Sweet added to their family, there were plenty of “grands” to spend time with his kids. They spent countless hours in that house helping his parents deal with the aging and subsequent death of his grandparents. He’d expected to do the same with his own parents. He couldn’t think of it without his stomach knotting up. It was why he rarely went to church anymore, and why Sweet understood and didn’t press the issue.

  They’d all been to the early service the day his parents were killed and were planning their usual Sunday dinner out at the river. As always, they would swing by their house first to change clothes and pick up the casserole Sweet left in the oven. Bitty cried to ride with his parents and he was happy to switch the car seat over for her but Sweet, pregnant with Daisy at the time, was desperate to get to a bathroom and couldn’t wait. If anything ever made Bubba John consider the fragility of life, it was that his wife’s bladder saved his daughter.

  A teenage boy driving home after a night of partying in the woods passed a line of vehicles on a sweeping curve. Racing to beat an approaching car, he whipped back into the lane in front of the Atwater’s sedan, but misjudged the length of his long-bed pickup. His bumper caught the driver’s side of his mother’s car and sent it spinning into the path of an oncoming tractor-trailer rig. His parents were killed instantly, their bodies trapped in the vehicle long after the life-flight helicopter carried the trucker to Shand’s Hospital in Gainesville. The teen in the truck walked away without a scratch, and was still at the scene when Bubba John and his family arrived. He was glad he didn’t know at the time who caused the accident. He was not a violent man, never laid a hand on any of his children, but he didn’t even want to imagine what he would have done if he knew. To this day, he could not get past his anger. It settled in his gut and rose up whenever he thought of it. He told Sweet later he no longer believed in God, but she knew better and so did he. You can’t be mad at something you don’t believe in. Still, the void left in his life was palpable.

  He missed Sunday dinners and Friday night fish fries, tending the garden he and his daddy planted twice a year. There was always enough to freeze or can, and plenty to share with neighbors. He missed the hours he spent in the woods with his father, who had patiently taught his grandchildren to respect the land and to handle guns safely, just as Bubba John learned as a boy. He missed his mother’s laugh, and the hymns she played on Mam’s old upright piano. And he missed the house. He’d avoided it over the past few years, neglected it even, but it was time to move on, he thought. Time to start some new memories out there while they still could.

  By community standards, it wasn’t unusual for an old family home place to sit vacant until it was in ruins. Bubba John hated the thought and so did Sweet, but they didn’t have the resources to restore it. Now they could do whatever they wanted, maybe even build a new house someday, but for now, Bubba John wanted to reclaim some of the old life he loved, make something new from it, surprise Sweet with the home of her dreams. He knew the idea was crazy and not likely to work, but he couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind, and by God he was going to try.

  He figured he’d get T-Ray out there to help remove the old carpet and linoleum, and clean up the yard. If he played it right, Sweet would never know they were doing anything other than making it suitable to sell.

  He roused himself out of his reverie, got the coffee pot ready for the next day, checked on the kids and went to bed feeling a little nervous, but excited. Hopefully, now that Beanie was here, he could devote a little more time to getting the project rolling.

  ***

  The next morning, Beanie, unsure of what was expected in the way of household duties, arose early and traipsed through the maze of plastic toys and wheeled objects littering the path to the back door of the house. After a moment’s hesitation and a glance around the stoop looking for anything that might serve as a place to hide a key, Beanie reached out and tried the doorknob. It turned with only a faint squeak. She was not surprised. It wasn’t unusual for country folk not to lock their doors. Bubba John, standing at the coffee pot in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, nearly jumped out of his skin when Beanie stuck her head in and crooned, “Anybody home?”

  “Crap!” Bubba dropped his coffee cup onto the counter and took off down the hallway.

  Beanie startled so hard she knocked her hat off sending it sailing end over end and landing it squarely on its brim in the cat’s litter box which, apparently, had not been emptied in at least a week. As Beanie, red-faced for more than one reason, tried first to assess the damage and then to decide whether she was better off with the hat on her head or in her hands, Bubba John returned to the kitchen. Now dressed in a pair of jeans, he struggled to button a long-sleeved flannel shirt over the dark stain still spreading on his t-shirt.

  “I’m so sorry,” Bubba John stuttered. “I didn’t expect…I didn’t know…I didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

  “It’s no problem,” said Beanie. “I just…”

  “Dammit,” Bubba John said, now unbuttoning the shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” Beanie said, feeling chastened and indignant at the same time.

  “No, no, it’s not your fault. I just burned the crap outta my stomach, that’s all. I gotta get this shirt off.” Bubba ripped the flannel shirt off, stripping the sleeves wrong side out, and pulled the stained cotton undershirt over his head. The skin on his scalded abdomen glowed red.

  “Oh, my,” said Beanie. “That looks bad.”

  “Yeah, I was just taking the first sip when the door opened. Dumped the whole cup out. Yee-ouch, that hurts.” Bubba grabbed a sale paper from a stack of unopened mail on the counter and fanned it futilely over his torso.

  “Where do you keep the ice?” Beanie asked, reaching for the upper door on the refrigerator.

  “Not there,” Bubba John said.

  Beanie took one look at the packed freezer and closed it immediately.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Try the cooler on the back porch. If not, there’s always some in the deep freeze out back.”

  Beanie found the red Coleman cooler on the back porch beside the washing machine and opened it to reveal six bottles of Bud Light swimming in an icy mix of mostly water. She grabbed a dishtowel from the pile of dirty clothes spilling out of three laundry hampers and thrust it into the cooler.

  “Well, at least it’s cold,” Beanie said as she came back into the kitchen with the dripping towel and twisted the worst of the water out over the dirty dishes in the sink. She was just spreading the towel out over Bubba John’s chest and abdomen when T-Ray appeared in the doorway.

  T-Ray squinted at the scene, tilting his head to the side as he tried to make sense of it. His father, naked from the waist up and arms outstretched, his shirt on the floor at his feet, stood facing the opposite direction. Beanie…it had to be Beanie, though all T-Ray could see was the flounce of her bright red skirt peeking out on either side of his father’s legs, stood close to him, too close. And what the hell was that patting noise and why was his dad breathing like that?

  “What the…WHAT?” T-Ray bellowed.

  Bubba John wheeled to face him, catching the towel just below the beltline as it dropped from his belly.

  “Oh, my God, Dad, what are you doing?”

  Beanie recoiled in horror.

  “Get out!” T-Ray flung his arm wide and pointed in t
he direction she was already moving.

  Beanie clapped both hands over her ears and sank to the floor in a puddle of petticoats.

  Bubba John froze for a moment, unsure what just happened. He felt the wet towel seeping cold water into the front of his jeans and looked down.

  “Wait, no. No, Tee, no. It’s not at all what you think,” Bubba John said, followed immediately by the thought, Jesus, what does he think?

  B-Kay, hearing the cacophony in the kitchen, burst from her room down the hall and met her twin head on at the kitchen door just as he wheeled to exit. The impact sent T-Ray sprawling backward. He landed with a thud beside the long pine table and stayed there, too stunned to move.

  “What in the world is going on in here?” B-Kay asked.

  “Just give me a minute, and I’ll explain. It’s just a big misunderstanding, that’s all.”

  Bubba John helped Beanie to her feet and guided her to the table. Once she was seated, he reached for T-Ray’s hand.

  “Don’t touch me,” he hissed and pulled himself up into the closest chair.

  “T-Ray, stop. I burned myself, that’s all.”

  “Right,” he said and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  “Well look for yourself,” Bubba John said, pointing at the red skin above his navel. “I was drinking my coffee and I heard Beanie come in the back door.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare ya,” Beanie said.

  “Well, it didn’t actually scare me.”

  “Then why’d ya spill your coffee?”

  “Because I was in my underwear, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Wait, I don’t get it.” B-Kay said.

  “You’re in jeans!” said T-Ray, glaring at his father.

  “Oh, my God…just stop it, Tee.” Bubba John said. “I spilled a whole cup of hot coffee down the front of my shirt. Once I got dressed, I realized my stomach was burned pretty bad, so Beanie soaked this towel in ice water and put it on the burn to cool it down. And that’s when T-Ray walked in.”

  “So what?” B-Kay said.

  “So that’s not what I saw,” T-Ray said.

  “No, that’s what you didn’t see,” Bubba John said. “There’s a difference.”

  “Now I really don’t get it.” B-Kay twisted her hair into a long strand on one side.

  “What he thinks he saw, and what he didn’t see are two different things. What he didn’t see, was Beanie was putting a cold rag on a burn. That’s it.”

  “So what does he think he saw?”

  “You’ll have to ask your brother, honey,‘cause quite frankly, I do not want to know.”

  “I got some burn cream in the camper,” Beanie said. “I’ll bring it back in a little while, but if it’s all the same to you guys, I think I’ll skip breakfast this morning.”

  ***

  Bubba John was mopping the kitchen floor when B-Kay came back in with Bitty and Tater, both dressed and ready for school. She sat them both at the table and poured cereal and milk into their bowls.

  “Why are you mopping over there?” B-Kay asked.

  Bubba John stopped and looked up at his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother, just a hair or two taller, which wasn’t saying much. As far as both of them were concerned, they were ten feet tall and bulletproof, a fact that both impressed and perplexed him on a daily basis. He flipped the mop up into the wringer and pressed the handle down hard.

  “One thing leads to another, I guess. The more I mopped, the more I had to mop to make it all look even. Looks like it’s been awhile.”

  “Ya think?” B-Kay said.

  Bubba John wheeled to face his daughter again. “What is that all about?”

  “Is what T-Ray said true?”

  “Look, B., I don’t know what T-Ray thinks he saw, but I’m telling you the truth. I burned myself with coffee and Beanie was trying to help.”

  “Well, he’s convinced it wasn’t as innocent as all that. Just so ya know.”

  “Dammit,” Bubba John said, wringing the mop with his bare hands this time.

  “Whatsa matter with Daddy?” Tater piped up from the table.

  “Nothing, Tate,” B-Kay answered for him. “Finish your cereal and run get your backpack. You, too, Bitty. We gotta leave soon.”

  T-Ray appeared with Daisy in his arms. Her face and hands were covered with liquid makeup.

  “What in the world?” B-Kay asked.

  “Apparently, you left your makeup AND the baby unattended.” T-Ray said, thrusting Daisy toward his sister.

  “Since when is it my job to watch all the kids. I had Bitty and Tate.” B-Kay complained. “Dad!”

  Bubba John threw his hands up and shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, B. We all have to be careful about leaving things out. Get her cleaned up for me, would you? I need to talk to Tee.”

  B-Kay reluctantly took Daisy from T-Ray’s outstretched arms and headed toward the back of the house.

  “Look, son, you’re gonna have to pitch in around here, too. B-Kay’s right, it’s not fair to put it all on her.”

  “I do help. Besides, I thought that’s why Beanie was here. Or did I get that wrong, too?”

  “That’s enough, Tee. You know better than that.”

  “She should not be here, Dad. Seriously, it’s disgusting what people are saying.”

  “You know what…I can assure you of one thing: people’s imaginations are far more disgusting than anything I have done, or would do for that matter. We can talk about this later. You guys are going to be late to school.” Bubba John said, resting both hands on top of the mop handle, “Right now, we need Beanie’s help.”

  “Maybe you need her, but I sure don’t. I need my mom…”

  T-Ray’s face crumpled and all Bubba John could do was stand and stare as an array of grief, fear, and embarrassment to boot swept across his features.

  “Aw, son, it’s okay,” Bubba John recovered and reached for T-Ray, tossing the mop handle to the floor. “Mama’s coming home soon. Is that what this is all about?”

  T-Ray pressed his face into his father’s chest and wept openly for the first time since Sweet’s surgery.

  Bubba John tucked T-Ray’s head under his chin and rocked him side to side.

  Bitty got down from her chair and padded across the kitchen floor. She said nothing, but rested her head on T-Ray’s hip and patted him on the arm. After a minute or two, T-Ray squeezed his sister’s shoulder and pulled away from Bubba John’s embrace.

  T-Ray shrugged, took a deep, snuffling breath, and smiled down at Bitty’s worried face.

  “I’m fine, Bitty, really. Go get your dance stuff and take Tater to the potty, K?”

  Bitty hesitated, but turned to do her brother’s bidding. As they left the room, Bubba John reached once again for his oldest son.

  T-Ray spun away and left the room, leaving his father there with arms outstretched.

  25

  Unsettled

  Sweet Lee Atwater came home a week later to a house cleaned so thoroughly she scarcely recognized it. Beanie even cleaned the recliner, and placed a soft coverlet that Sweet had never seen over the seat and back. Bubba John barely got her settled into the chair before Beanie brought a glass of sweet tea and a warm barley bag to drape across the back of Sweet’s neck.

  “Ah,” Sweet sighed. “I could get used to this kind of attention.”

  Bubba John timed her arrival so she would have an hour or so to rest before the mob arrived home from school. It was two weeks before Halloween, and the kids were more excited than usual for the annual Trunk or Treat at the New Harmony Baptist Church. Being the seamstress she was, Beanie got a real kick out of sewing costumes for the little ones.

  If Sweet was dismayed that these were the first thing the kids talked about when they got home from school, she did a good job of hiding it.

  The girl’s a genius, Sweet thought, and made a mental note to tell her - some other time when she wasn’t feeling completely dispensable. For the moment, she ju
st watched the chaos unfold, and reminded herself how lucky she was to have the help. Daisy, of course, was the most emotional, wanting nothing more than to climb into her mother’s lap and stay there. But the doctor warned them not to let Sweet do anything too strenuous and risk undoing the healing that was finally evident.

  Beanie put a pillow in the crook of Sweet’s arm and placed Daisy gently into its center, where she stayed, occasionally stroking Sweet’s jaw with one thumb, while the other four siblings wrestled for airtime.

  “Mama, Travis bit me at school today.”

  “You gotta see the princess outfit Beanie made for Bitty, Mama. It’s bedazzled and everything!”

  “Mama, I’m gonna be a Ninja turtle. Bet you can’t make a Ninja turtle outfit, can ya? Miss Beanie can. Want me to put it on for ya?”

  “Mom, you gotta talk to B-Kay about letting me drive. She’s been hogging the car the whole time.”

  “I got into the AP program, Mom. If I can go to Lake City twice a week, I’ll have an AA degree before I even get out of high school.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Bubba John said. “Let’s give your mama a few minutes to breathe, how about it?”

  “Y’all go put your stuff away and git your homework out. Supper ain’t halfway done,” Beanie said, somehow already accustomed to the commotion. “B-Kay, how about puttin’ somethin’ on the TV for the little ones. Pre-fer-ably somethin’ quiet-like.”

  No one noticed the tears pouring down Sweet’s face until Daisy piped up during one brief still moment, “Mama, why you cryin’?”

  B-Kay ushered T-Ray and Bitty out of the room, while Beanie flipped the stovetop eyes to low, scooped up the little ones and took them “to the potty before they watch TV,” she said on her way down the hall.

  Bubba John rushed to Sweet’s side and, kneeling by the recliner, took her hand, “What’s the matter, hon? Are you hurting?”

  Sweet threw an arm over her eyes and worked on controlling her sobs.

  “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” Bubba John was genuinely concerned.

 

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