Hoosier Daddy

by Ann McMan

  “You mean this ain’t your first rodeo?” T-Bomb asked.

  “Exactly. Although my butt sure feels like it. Aunt Jackie needs to invest in some better chairs.”

  T-Bomb laughed. “You wanna sit down with us for a spell? It might be fun to make all them converts over there think we’re signin’ up, too.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to tar you ladies with that brush.” He looked at me. “I think there’s already been enough guilt by association going on around here.”

  “Oh, hell,” T-Bomb replied. “Don’t you worry none about Friday’s bad luck with transportation . . . one thing we all got around here is access to an endless supply of trucks.” She laughed merrily.

  “You know, I did notice that.” Tony smiled at her.

  “Where’s El?” I asked. I tried to make it sound casual, but I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.

  Tony dropped a hand to my shoulder and gave it a warm squeeze. “She had some meetings this evening. I expect her to show up a bit later on.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Tony glanced toward his raucous contingent of followers. “I’d better get back . . . I don’t want to lose my captive audience.” He looked down at me. “I just wanted to say congratulations to you. From what I hear, it’s long overdue.”

  I wondered how he knew about what had happened.

  Who was I kidding? Everybody in Princeton probably knew about it . . . including El.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I guess we’ll see how it goes.”

  He nodded. “That we will.” He gave a small salute to Luanne and T-Bomb. “Ladies? Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He left our table and wandered back toward his group.

  “Them Italian men sure do have the nicest derrieres,” T-Bomb said in a dreamy voice.

  I looked at her like she had two heads.

  “What?” She pointed at Tony’s retreating backside. “I know he don’t play for your team, but you ain’t dead, neither. That’s some fine raw material there.”

  Luanne poured herself another glass of Old Style. “He’s too short.”

  “Who cares?” T-Bomb waved a hand. “He could always use a stepladder.” She warmed to her theme. “Or make two trips . . .”

  “You just ain’t right.” Luanne fired up another Viceroy.

  T-Bomb ignored her. “Hey? Friday? Are you ever gonna tell us what the heck happened today? What are you doin’ on that Japanese Cougar Crew?”

  Cougar Crew?

  “That’s a Tiger Team, you idiot,” Luanne said before I had a chance to reply.

  “I guess that means you already heard about what’s happening?” I asked.

  “No details,” Luanne replied. “Just a lot of speculation.”

  “I stayed behind to talk with Tam Shigeta and Steve Haley,” I reminded her.

  She nodded. “We waited around for you, but it was obvious that you weren’t gonna be comin’ out any time soon, and they wanted everybody to clear out, pronto.”

  “How did your team react to the memo?”

  “Most of ’em were just relieved to be gettin’ a few days off with pay . . . everybody thought the work stop meant the plant was gonna be closin’ for good.”

  “Same here,” T-Bomb added. “And that Janice Baker told us that the air conditioning was gonna be fixed real soon.”

  Luanne shook her head. “Too late for Ruthie.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” T-Bomb sighed. “I just hate this for those children.” She looked at me. “You know, that Shigeta fella went by there and spent more than an hour with her family.”

  I was surprised. “He did?”

  Luanne nodded. “Wynona told Joe about it.”

  “You heard from Joe?” I asked.

  “Jailissa did,” she replied. “It turns out Joe was the one who called

  Ogata and told them the truth about what happened to Ruthie. Then when that Shigeta fella got here and started cleanin’ house, he contacted Joe and told him he wasn’t fired.”

  I hadn’t heard that. “So Joe is keeping his job?”

  “I don’t know nothin’ more about that,” Luanne said. “All I know is he ain’t fired.”

  “That Jerry Sneddin is gone, too,” T-Bomb added. “That’s why he dropped off them Jack-Aff puppies. Aunt Jackie said she tried to find him, but he’d already cleared outta town. You know, he never did put down any roots after he came here from that PPG plant over in Evansville. I heard he was encouraged to leave there, too.”

  “Good riddance to bad news, if you ask me.” Luanne looked at me. “I wonder if Misty Ann will follow him.”

  I hadn’t thought about that possibility. “Maybe if we’re all lucky. Although, recently, I think she was a bit more interested in Don K.”

  “Oh, good lord.” Luanne huffed. “Somebody needs to turn a garden hose on that girl.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said.

  “Oh, hell. That lapse in judgment wasn’t your fault. It ain’t like there were any fertile fields around there for good pickings. And that woman is a first-class Jezebel.”

  “Thanks, but I still feel horrible about letting that happen.”

  “Well, I still feel horrible about the day I ate that first bag of fried pork rinds, too. But this here body is the result I got from all them transgressions that followed, and I just need to accept it and get on with my business.” She pointed a chubby finger at me. “Sometimes you just gotta pull up your queen-sized panties and keep on keepin’ on.”

  “Unless you’re Ermaline,” T-Bomb quipped.

  I looked fondly at both of them. They truly were my best friends. “I love you guys.”

  They raised their glasses in a toast. I lifted my bottle.

  “Here’s to Ruthie Miles,” I said. “And to a better tomorrow for everyone.”

  We clinked rims, and drank to the future I knew we always would share.

  An hour later, I was making a much-needed visit to the restroom before heading out for home.

  T-Bomb had already left to meet Donnie and the twins at Pizza Hut. She said it was his night to cook, so that meant they’d be eating out.

  Luanne was right behind her. Jailissa was scheduled for an earlyevening photo shoot at Hogg Heaven, the restaurant that took top honors at Saturday’s barbecue throw down. It was her first official duty as Miss Pork Queen, and Luanne was taking the errand very seriously.

  I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I knew that today was just the beginning. Tam had prepared us all for a grueling couple of weeks. Our first priority was to resolve all critical safety issues and return the plant to full operation as quickly as practical. With the problem areas we’d been able to identify today, it seemed that we’d be able to accomplish the lion’s share of this work in another forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Amazingly, Ogata technicians had already managed to arrange delivery of replacement HVAC components, and their teams were working around the clock to repair the malfunctioning units.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror while I washed my hands. I looked tired, but I thought I looked less anxious than I had when I left home that morning. It was true that my eyes still resembled road maps, but they didn’t look as . . . sad.

  Not that I wasn’t still feeling sad. I was. But it was a different kind of sadness—duller and less acute. It was more like the cold snap that shows up after Christmas and promises to hang around until the spring thaw. The kind of sadness you learn to live with and know how to dress for.

  I stared at my face in the dim light and realized that the expression it wore was one I’d seen a lot of lately. In fact, I was beginning to realize that the world was full of faces that looked just like mine did right then. It led me to wonder how many other people were doing what I was now cosigned to do: grind out their days, putting one foot in front of the other until their disappointed hopes faded into vague memories.

  My thoughts were about as bleak as the ancient wallpaper in that damn bathroom. I shook the excess water off
my hands and grabbed a paper towel to dry them. I was at the door when it swung open and bumped into my foot.

  “I’m sorry,” an anxious voice called out. “Are you okay?”

  I stepped back to allow the woman to enter. It was El.

  We stared at each other in disbelief. Then we started talking at the same time.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” she began.

  “I’m just leaving,” I said.

  We stopped and stared at each other some more. An awkward silence ensued.

  “How are you?” she finally asked. Her voice was soft and low.

  “Okay,” I lied.

  She continued to stare at me.

  I folded. “All right . . . not great.”

  “Me either.” She sounded almost relieved.

  We gave each other shy smiles.

  “What kind of losers are we?” I asked. “We each feel better knowing that the other is miserable.”

  “I don’t know,” El said. “I think that kind of makes us winners.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded.

  “I guess I need to change my point of view.”

  “That’s always been the case, hasn’t it?”

  I wanted to be sure I understood her. “Are we talking about business or pleasure?”

  “Yes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You really drive me crazy, you know that?”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

  “Which job would that be?”

  She shrugged. “Take your pick. Lately, I’ve kind of sucked at both of them.”

  I was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I don’t think I have the heart for this work anymore.”

  I was surprised. “Why do you say that?”

  She looked up at me. “Lots of reasons.”

  “That’s ironic,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “I seem to have rediscovered mine.”

  “You have?” She sounded intrigued.

  I nodded.

  “Tam Shigeta is pretty persuasive, isn’t he?”

  “He said he knew you.”

  She smiled. “We logged some hours together in Ithaca.”

  “So he said. He thinks you have integrity.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That seems like a curious observation.”

  I felt mildly embarrassed. “I may have mentioned something to him about our . . . well . . . you know.”

  El folded her arms and regarded me with that professorial look of hers. “No. I don’t think I do. Would you like to clarify what ‘you know’ means?”

  I glanced around the bathroom like I expected someone to crawl out from under the stall.

  “What’s the matter?” El asked.

  “Maybe we could find a better place to talk?” I suggested.

  “Why? Are you afraid this bathroom isn’t secure?”

  “No.” I sighed. “It was just a lame attempt to buy some time.”

  She laughed. “Sorry, Charlie. I just got here, and I can’t leave yet. Tony would kill me.”

  “Bummer.”

  “So,” she leaned back against the door, “you were saying?”

  I scratched my ear. “I may have mentioned something . . . vaguely and in passing . . . about the fact that you and I might be . . . sort of . . . something . . . slightly more than . . . business . . . acquaintances . . . maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  I nodded.

  She rolled her eyes. “And he kept talking with you?”

  “Of course.”

  She shook her head in apparent disbelief.

  “That surprises you?” I asked.

  “No . . . if that’s truly how you expressed yourself, it astonishes me.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m curious,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About what motivated you to tell Tam that you and I were more than business associates.”

  “Well, that’s hardly rocket science. He already knew about Don K.’s little offer. I figured it was safe to assume he also knew about what precipitated it.”

  “Did he?”

  “I think so.”

  “But he still made you an offer.”

  It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “How did you know he made me an offer?”

  “He’d be an idiot not to—and Tam’s not an idiot.”

  I sighed. “Well . . . I sure hope he’s not an idiot, because I accepted.”

  El’s eyes widened. “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  She was staring at me with an unreadable expression, but it didn’t look unhappy.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m just . . . surprised. And gratified,” she added.

  “You are?”

  “Of course. This is a wonderful outcome for you, and for Ogata.”

  I could think of a few other outcomes that would be even more wonderful for me than signing on to work with Tam Shigeta, but I didn’t feel confident enough right then to mention any of them.

  El gave me that measured look of hers—the one that made you feel like you’d just been caught cheating on an exam.

  “I wish we had more time,” I said. The words came out sounding so earnest, that they surprised both of us.

  “I know. I’m sorry I have to work tonight. It’s . . . critical right now.” I didn’t reply.

  El kept looking at me. “Friday Jill?”

  “What?”

  “You do know that our present circumstances won’t stay the same?”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “But,” she continued. “With very good luck, you and I will.”

  I felt a flutter of optimism. I wanted to ask her to explain what she meant, but I was afraid to do so. And that knee-jerk reaction of mine was frustrating the hell out of me.

  El noticed.

  “You’re doing it.”

  “What?”

  “That thing you do . . . finding ways to talk yourself out of something before you have a chance to get into it.”

  “I don’t always do that.”

  El raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t do it today,” I said defensively. Then I smiled. “I didn’t do it with Tam or his Cougar Crew.”

  “His what?” El looked completely perplexed.

  I waved a hand. “It’s a long story . . . the industrial world according to T-Bomb.”

  “Oh . . . thank god. I was beginning to think I’d been out of the workplace for too long.”

  I laughed. “You see . . . I’m not always a chicken shit.”

  “For my sake, I hope not.”

  I took a step closer to her. She noticed.

  “Is Indiana one of those states that offers refunds to people who stockpile good intentions?”

  I thought about that. “Not if they’re tossed into a box with glass bottles.”

  “Damn.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t save them,” I added.

  El unfolded her arms. “I need a minute to sort through all those double negatives.”

  “How about I offer to take something on deposit anyway?”

  “What assurance can you offer that you’ll always be good for it?”

  Her words seemed vaguely provocative. I decided to test them out.

  I bent toward her, but stopped just short of her mouth. I hovered there, feeling the faint puff of her breath against my face. Then she closed the remaining distance between us, and I didn’t feel anything except the overwhelming rush of everything I always felt when I was this close to El.

  We held on to each other like shipwreck victims clutching at flotsam. El was whispering against my ear. I couldn’t quite make it out.

  “What are you saying?” I muttered against her neck.

  “Time. I just need time.”

  I was going to ask what for, but I never got the chance. Someone started pounding on the outside
of the door.

  “El?” More pounding. “Are you still in there?”

  It was Tony. El grabbed hold of my arms and squeezed them tightly before she pushed me back.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I have to go.”

  My fear and insecurity returned like a bad penny. I gave her a hopeless look.

  She saw it.

  “Please,” she said. “I need you to trust me . . . can you do that?”

  “Yes” was such a simple word. It should’ve been easy for me to say it. I opened my mouth to try, but before I could get it out, Tony rapped on the door again. I closed my eyes.

  El dropped her hands. “I’ll be right there,” she called out to Tony. She gazed back at me with profound sadness. Then she composed herself and turned away.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Tony asked, when she opened the door. “We’ve got a situation out here.”

  “All right, all right,” El said. “Let’s get it taken care of.”

  The door closed behind them, and I continued to stand there, alone, in the middle of the dim room.

  Grammy was in my kitchen when I got home. I could smell the sweet evidence of her presence before I actually saw her.

  Fritz met me on the back porch, dancing around me in circles and wagging his tail. I ruffled his ears and kissed him on the head.

  “Is that you, Jill?” Grammy called out.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered. I walked inside to join her. She was sliding something into the oven. “What are you cooking, and how’d I get so lucky?”

  She closed the oven door and turned to me. “I heard about what happened at the plant today when I went by to see Wynona and the family. I took them one of those chicken bruschetta casseroles you like so much—that one from the Stove Top Stuffing box? And I thought you might like one, too.”

  I walked over and hugged her. “You always know exactly the right thing to do.”

  “Not always.” She patted my back. “Sometimes I just get lucky.”

  “Will you stay and eat with me?” I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was until I walked into the world of wonderful smells now swirling around my kitchen. Garlic. Fresh basil. Tomatoes. Roasted chicken. Mozzarella. And, of course, stuffing—lots and lots of stuffing.

  I could hardly wait until it was ready.