“No, of course not. I feel the same way. This is the place we come back to. Everyone needs a place, Sela. Those crummy apartments we lived in were just walls and floors. This was like home. It still feels that way.”
“If Wyn deeds this place back to Callie and something happens to Callie, will this place go to the state?” Sela asked.
“I think so, unless Callie made a will. She never mentioned making one. Did she ever say anything to you?”
“No. God, we have to do something!” Sela said, wringing her hands. “Brie, do you ever . . . I know this is going to sound, well, not right . . . but do you ever think of this place as ours? I don’t mean owning it, just belonging to it. I think it would kill me if Callie lost it. I’m trying to say something here and it isn’t coming out right.”
“You really are hooked on this place, aren’t you?” Brie said.
“Do you think that’s wrong of me?”
“I don’t know, Sela, but I think you have to let go to a certain extent. Didn’t we just have this conversation a little while ago? Why are we going over it again?”
“Because I’m afraid it’s going to be lost to us.”
“We’ll survive.” Brie was brisk.
“Pearl won’t,” Sela said, snapping a blossom off the crepe myrtle. She snapped a second and third. “I feel like crying, Brie.”
“Then cry. It helps relieve a lot of tension. I’d cry myself, but I’m too damn mad to do so. This is one of those senseless things that never should have happened. I don’t know how to deal with it. For me, crying won’t help. All I want to do is hit the sack. I really need some quiet time to come to terms with the possibility that Callie may never regain consciousness and that I may never see Bode again. Both of them, like you, are a part of my life. I have to face up to it. You can have the room, and I’ll sleep on the sofa, okay?”
“Sure,” Sela said.
They walked back to the house in silence. In the kitchen, Brie watched Sela fill a bowl with water, then add an aspirin to it from her purse, before dropping the delicate blossoms, one by one, into the water.
“Guess I’ll say good night,” Brie said.
“Okay. I think I’m going to sit here for a little while and think about my past sins.”
“You do that. I don’t have any sins to contemplate,” Brie said spitefully.
“Me-ow,” Sela rejoined, pouting.
Brie stopped in the bathroom to wash her hands as well as her feet before she settled herself on the ancient couch in the living room.
Stretched out with her hands behind her head, Brie let loose with a loud sigh. She wasn’t tired at all. If anything, she was wired for action. It was the same kind of feeling she got right before a stakeout. She did some deep breathing exercises and felt better almost immediately. Her head felt clearer now.
There were so many things she wanted to think about. Sela was something of an airhead. Callie was docile, most of the time. A friend. Callie was never a mover and a shaker. She had no desire to make inroads, to be the first, the best, in anything. She was content to live her life quietly, taking it a day at a time. Brie had always wanted to be Callie’s best friend, apart from Bode, but that spot was reserved for Sela. Brie had accepted it early on and was content to be in third place. Bode said it was because Callie admired Sela’s flamboyant ways and her recklessness. Not that Callie ever wanted to do what Sela did, but she liked to hear about it and fantasize.
What was life going to be like without Callie?
Maybe she was feeling this way because in the space of one day she had lost two of her best friends. Bode had gone away. He wouldn’t stay in touch; that much she knew. Bode was her own personal haven. He was like a warm fuzzy, someone you could always count on to be there for you when you needed him most. Callie was always there for her, too, but in a different kind of way. Sela . . . Sela was Sela. Oh, she listened, she offered cockamamy advice and then started to talk about the most important person in her life: herself. Tonight had been an eye-opener in many ways. Brie had had no idea that Sela was so obsessed with Parker Manor. There was no doubt in her mind that Sela would take her real-estate course and then move back here and settle in with Pearl. She would happily drive Pearl back and forth to the hospital for the privilege of living in Parker Manor, in Callie’s room. She’d move Pearl out of the apartment, visit Callie, take flowers, drive Pearl to church.
“I need to talk to Bode,” she muttered. Sleep was out of the question. She was wide-awake, raring to go, as her police partner said, before they drove off for the day. Even if she had a phone number to call Bode, she couldn’t do so because she’d agreed with Pearl and Sela not to get in touch with him. She’d never, ever, go back on her word. She knew she could find Bode in a heartbeat if she really wanted to. She was a cop, for God’s sake! All she had to do was say he was a suspect in something or other and put out an APB on him. Santa Fe wasn’t that far from San Diego. Bode wouldn’t kick up a fuss if he was hauled in for questioning. Not when he understood why she’d done it.
Get in the car and drive, her inner voice urged. Go somewhere and make the call. There are phone booths all over the place. Don’t do it here. If you do that, your word is worthless: it means you can’t be trusted. Sela probably doesn’t realize she’s trying to take Callie’s place. Sela never thinks things through to à conclusion. This is just your suspicious cop’s mind, Brie Canfield. She argued with herself for another fifteen minutes before she crept off the couch and tiptoed to the bathroom, where she dressed with only the aid of a small night-light.
Before she left the house, she checked on Sela, who was sleeping peacefully. Sela always slept peacefully when she was at Parker Manor. Pearl was snoring lustily. Satisfied that neither woman would wake, Brie left the house and backed the rental car out to the main road without using the headlights. Like Sela, she knew every inch of the grounds.
She drove with the windows wide-open, the radio blaring. Johnny Mathis was singing “Three Times a Lady.” How could you be three times a lady? Sela would probably know. She turned off the music, and the quiet night surrounded her. Where was she going? She was on Trolley Road. It would only take her as far as Dorchester Road and then she would either make a left or a right. Or she’d turn around and go back to the manor house. She passed the South Carolina National Bank. Callie banked with them; so did Bode. Once, she herself had a small account at the same bank. They called you by name, asked about your family, and never made mistakes in your account. Her bank in San Diego made mistakes every month. Once, the machine ate her ATM card. No one knew her name. No one asked how she was. No one even smiled at her. She couldn’t even remember the name of the damn bank. Bill O. Duke, that was the name of the man at the bank in town. She wondered what the O. stood for. Callie would know; so would Bode. Maybe Bode had transferred his account and Bill O. Duke would know the name of his new bank. Bode and Duke were probably classmates. Tomorrow she’d go in and ask. But did Callie bank at this branch or the one in town? Bode probably used the one in town. That’s where she would go.
The light changed and she was on Dorchester Road.
She passed the Remax building, spotting the phone booth straight ahead. The shoulder on the road looked too skimpy to park so she pulled into the parking lot of the Children’s Nook Daycare Center. A sensor light flashed on. She saw colorful wooden balloons nailed to the wall next to the front window. How pretty they looked. She felt her eyes begin to mist. Mothers brought their children here to be cared for. There had been no place like this when she was growing up. Parker Manor and Pearl were her daycare center.
Brie eyed the phone booth. Who was she going to call? Wyn? Her precinct? Her gaze swiveled to the building with the bright balloons. Would an alarm go off if she walked up to it? Could she look in the window? Why? Did the children who came here play the games she’d played at Parker Manor? Did they have pets—hamsters, rabbits? Did they have jumping frogs for the boys? Were there trees in the back that the children could climb? Was
there a brook for wading? Did these children know how to tie a wiggly worm on the end of a fishing line? Did they catch fireflies? Did they have picnics outside? Pearl always made picnics such fun. She’d draw funny faces on the shells of the hard-boiled eggs. She even tied colored ribbons around the fried chicken legs. There was always a shiny apple and a fat sugar cookie with M&M candies baked into it. She thought she liked the old wicker picnic basket the best. It had silver and real cloth napkins that had red-and-white checks to match the tablecloth. It was Bode’s job to lay out the tablecloth, Sela’s job to put out the silver if they had fruit salad or potato salad, and Callie’s job to lay out the napkins and plates. Brie’s job was to pack it all up after the picnic. She always folded the napkins just so, and the tablecloth into its proper creases. The used silver went into a little cloth bag, the plates into a bigger cloth bag. Bode always carried the basket. “I hope all the children who come here are as happy as we were,” she whispered.
She was standing next to the phone booth, a pile of change in her pocket. Who was she going to call? Nobody. This whole nocturnal trip was nothing more than an exercise in futility.
She was back in the car. She crossed the divider and headed back the way she’d come. Before she knew it, she was almost to town. She passed the Eggroll Express, the Flowertown Restaurant and then was on Highway 78. Highway 78 led to the hospital.
A long time later, she walked into the ICU unit. Like churches, hospitals seemed to have a different kind of quietness. They were places where miracles happened. A miracle was what Callie needed.
Wyn saw Brie before she spotted him. His heart started to hammer in his chest. What the hell was she doing here? Did she suspect anything? Was she going to do or say something that would bring it all out in the open? He cursed Kallum under his breath. The violent urge to grab Brie by the arm and take her outside was so strong he jammed his hands into his pockets. He wanted to tell her everything, right now, this very second. Christ, why was she here?
“Brie, did you come all the way here to keep me company?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I drove for a while, and then I ended up here. Has there been any change?”
“No. They let me see her for five minutes on the hour. It’s not much, but better than being told she’s the same. This way I can see for myself. You can go in the next time. You haven’t seen her yet. It’s going to break your heart, so be prepared.” Brie nodded. “Did the rain cool things off?”
“A little. We made it home just as it started to come down. We had dinner and . . . Sela and Pearl went to bed. As I said, I couldn’t sleep. Did you eat?”
“I had a sandwich earlier. It tasted like sawdust, glue, and mayonnaise. My insides are starting to rebel with all the black coffee I’ve had. It’s been a long day,” he said wearily.
“Yes, it has,” Brie said, looking at her watch.
“How’s Pearl?”
“Pearl is Pearl. She’s hopeful like the rest of us. You are hopeful, aren’t you, Wyn?”
“Yes, I’m optimistic. Even if the specialists tell me there is no hope, I don’t think I’ll believe them. I know Pearl won’t.”
“Probably not. I cannot believe this has happened. Callie was . . . is . . .”
“She’s alive. We’re going through the worst right now. It can only get better,” Wyn said quietly.
“For who, Wyn?”
“Callie. All of us. It’s almost time to go in. It’s your turn. I’ll go outside and smoke. Meet me there, okay?”
“Sure,” Brie said.
Brie closed her eyes before she opened the door to the ICU unit. She formed a picture in her mind. Expect the worst. Be prepared. Hot tears pushed at her eyelids. Callie was so still. She touched her friend’s arm. It felt warm. That had to be good.
“Callie, it’s me, Brie,” she murmured. “I hope you can hear me, Callie. Tomorrow, more specialists are coming. Wyn is going to do everything he can. He’s taking this very hard. All night I’ve been thinking about when we were children and how happy we all were. They are such wonderful memories. Pearl told us a secret tonight. She really and truly does have a three-holed button. Sela and I didn’t know that. We played secrets. Mine was that I’m going to be accepted into the FBI. Sela’s secret is she won three thousand dollars on a horse bet. She’s going to give half of it to Pearl. It’s so generous of her.” Brie wiped at her eyes. “My time is up, Callie. I’ll be back. In my heart I don’t know if you . . . if you’d want us to call Bode or not. We agreed not to call him. If you could just give me some kind of sign, squeeze my hand, flicker your eyelids, something to . . . Try, Callie, try and do something.” When there was no response, Brie bent over the bed and kissed her friend on the cheek. She stumbled from the room, her sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor.
“How was she?” Wyn asked as he handed over a cigarette.
“Very still. Her eyelids didn’t even flutter. She’s hooked up to so many things. What will happen if all that stuff is taken away? Who decides something like that? Do you think she’s in pain?”
“I don’t know, Brie,” Wyn said, lighting another cigarette.
“It’s a new day,” Brie said.
“So it is,” he replied. “Are you going to call Bode?” There was an edge in his voice.
“Not yet. We want to hear what the specialists you’re bringing in have to say. You don’t want him here, do you?”
“The truth? No. Bode is hotheaded. He’ll blame me for this. God only knows what he’s capable of doing. He’ll react, he won’t stop to think. Look, you know as well as I do that Bode Jessup is in love with Callie. Everyone knows it, for Christ’s sake! Callie knew it, too, even though she said it was a stupid assumption on my part. She liked Bode spinning his wheels over her.”
“That’s a terrible thing for you to say, Wyn Archer. I hate you for saying that,” Brie said tightly.
“For saying what? That a piece of no-account trash is in love with my fiancée?”
Brie was faster than a lightning streak. Her knee came up, smack with Wyn’s groin, while her right hand shot out to grab his arm and twist it behind him, slamming him against the front end of a Ford Mustang parked beyond the entrance to the hospital. His cry of pain only made her twist his arm tighter.
“Say it again, Wyn, and I’ll break your fucking arm. Maybe I’ll break the other arm, too. Don’t you ever, ever, call Bode a piece of trash again!” She was riled now, words tumbling out of her mouth. “Your fiancée was going to give you your walking papers that night. She was calling off the wedding. She told Pearl at the Judge’s. She told you in the car, didn’t she?”
“You’re lying!” Wyn yelped, his face contorted in pain.
“Look at my face. Do I look like I’m lying?” Brie shoved her face within inches of Wyn’s. She could smell his coffee breath, knew he’d been smoking too many cigarettes. She stepped back; gave his arm another vicious twist. “Apologize. Now!”
“All right, all right. You’re a bitch. You’re worse than that goddamn black bitch Pearl.”
“That’s it! That’s it!” Brie screeched as she rummaged in her shoulder purse for her handcuffs. In a blink of an eye she had dragged him to the driver’s side of the Mustang and handcuffed him to the steering wheel through the open window.
“Cut me loose, damn you!”
“In your dreams. You can stay here till the owner of this car comes out and calls the police. What Callie ever saw in you is beyond me. How dare you! How dare you talk about Pearl and Bode like that! You’re a fucking bigot, a monster. Callie must have finally seen through you. Somehow, some way, I’m going to find out what happened last night, and then . . . then I’m going to turn Bode loose on you. Here’s something else for you to chew on, Mister Archer. In six weeks I’m going to be an FBI agent. I just bet you’ve broken all kinds of federal laws. Guess what? I’m going to check you out with a fine-tooth comb, Mister Archer. Thanks for giving me your turn in there,” Brie said, jerking her head backwards.
�
��You aren’t going to leave me here like this!” Wyn bellowed. “Goddamn it, Brie, take these cuffs off me!”
“Have a nice night,” Brie said, walking away.
In the rental car, she collapsed against the steering wheel. God in heaven, she didn’t just do what she did? She didn’t say all those things—did she? She pinched her arm and winced. No, she wasn’t dreaming. She drove away, her right leg shaking so badly she had to use her left foot to feed the gas.
Wyn Archer bellowed for over an hour before someone heard him.
Dawn was breaking when the local police cut him loose from the Mustang. “I don’t know who it was,” he blustered. “Two kids out for kicks. I never saw them before.”
11
“Pearl, it’s almost six. You told me to wake you,” Sela whispered.
“Cain’t. I have a hag on me.”
Sela’s mind raced. She had to remember what it was she was supposed to do. “I got it. Don’t move, Pearl, I’ll, get the colander.”
“Sweet chile, you remembered,” Pearl sighed.
“You bet.” Sela grinned. “I put the colander under the bed and the hag starts to count the holes and won’t sit on your head. Did I do it right?” She shoved a bright green colander under Pearl’s bed.
“I’ll be needing a few minutes for the hag to see it there. Ah, she spotted it. Now she’s going to forgit to sit on my head. I can git up now,” Pearl said, struggling to heave her ample body up off the bed.
In spite of herself, Sela smiled. Pearl had a headache, pure and simple. But if the idea of a colander under her bed made the headache go away, it was all right with her.
She was soon back in the kitchen, bustling about as though she was the lady of the manor. When she looked at the kitchen clock again it was time to wake Brie.
“Hey, sleepyhead, wake up,” Sela said, shaking Brie gently. “Smell that coffee. Pearl ground it fresh just for you. She let me squeeze the oranges. You have just enough time to brush your teeth before you tie on your bib.”
Yesterday Page 21