by Lucy Finn
Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that what he thinks you are? A friend?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t think so. He’s in love with you.”
My heart stopped. “What? No. Absolutely not. He’s not. Why would you even say that?” I sputtered.
“He doesn’t take his eyes off you, Ravine. He watches every move you make. He looks at you the way your father looked at me, like you are the most fascinating creature to ever walk the face of the earth. I know that look well. He laughs at your jokes, and Ravine, you’re not funny.”
“I’m very witty.”
“He thinks you are. And he wants me to like him. He cares about whether I like him or not. He is crazy about Brady. He’s still quite a young man, but I think he’s going to ask you to marry him.”
“He is not. I can guarantee it. He is not going to ask me to marry him.”
“How can you be so sure? If ever I saw a man ready to settle down and have a family, it’s that one. I know what I’m talking about. I know when I’m right,” she said and began to vigorously scrub the roaster pan. She didn’t believe in no-stick cookware so it took a major effort. I could tell from the way she was doing it that she was getting agitated.
So was I. Once again she was pushing my buttons. I snapped at her. “You might know when you’re right, but this time you’ve got it all wrong. Gene’s not in love with me. And he is never going to settle down with me and Brady. Gene’s family lives in Australia. He misses them terribly. I can say with complete certainty, he is not going to stay in the US.”
She looked over at me, her hands in sudsy water, and said in an unexpectedly soft voice, “So would you go with him to Australia if he asked you to?”
I felt as if a dagger were stuck in my heart. “That’s impossible. Trust me, it’s completely impossible for me to go with Gene. He is a nice guy, Ma. He’s just not the right guy for me.”
“Are you sure? How do you feel about him?” she demanded.
I was shocked by my mother’s question. She has never asked me about my feelings, ever. I didn’t know what to say. I stared at her.
“You care about him, don’t you. You were looking at him the same way he was looking at you. Ravine, don’t fool yourself. If being with him means moving to Australia, you should consider it. I think he’s the one.”
The blood drained from my face, I’m sure. It would be my luck if “the one” for me was a ninety-year-old genie. I knew how to mess up my life, I guess. I was getting really good at it. “I can’t go with Gene to Australia, Ma. I really can’t. And he’s not able to stay here. It’s not going to work out.”
My mother got very busy scrubbing the sink with cleanser. Finally she rinsed it out and put down the sponge. She turned her body so she was facing me. “Ravine, I have never interfered in your life. Maybe I should have, but it’s not my way. Now I think I better speak my mind. You can’t always run away from your feelings. I guess you are scared of love or afraid of being hurt. Maybe because your father died. I don’t know. If that hadn’t happened, maybe Brady’s father would be around instead of being a ghost you don’t talk about. No, don’t interrupt. I’m not asking about him. But Gene is a good man. And Ravine, it’s pretty obvious you two are sleeping together—”
“Ma! I mean—”
“For heaven’s sake, don’t look so shocked. I’ve worked with high school students for thirty years. They don’t hide what’s going on any better than you two do. I’m not judging you. I’m merely saying, try not to mess this up. Things can’t always be all your way. You have to compromise when you really love somebody. You have to work things out together. I think that man would try to move mountains for you. Give him a chance. That’s all I’m saying.”
Tears sprang into my eyes. “Oh Ma, you are so wrong about Gene. He’s not simply a pilot. He’s—”
Just then the phone shrilled. My mother reached out and answered it before I could blurt out the truth.
“Yes,” she said into the receiver. “Yes, she’s here. I’ll tell her. How bad is it? Okay, she’ll get there right away.” She hung up. Her voice was brisk but calm when she spoke to me. “Now don’t get all upset, Ravine. But you have to go right home.”
“Why?” I asked, my heart racing. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a fire at your house.”
“A fire! Oh my God. Gene!” I screamed and went running toward the living room, and he suddenly appeared at the door with Brady in his arms.
“Gene! We have to get home. There’s a fire.” I was grabbing Brady’s coat and getting him into it.
Gene looked over at my mother. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “That was Jerry, her neighbor. He said the Kunkle fire department’s there, and that’s all he knew.”
“It must be that coal stove. I knew it. I knew it,” I was saying. “I should have had the chimney cleaned.”
“You didn’t have the stove lit today,” Gene reminded me.
“Yes, you’re right. So I don’t know. What else can it be? Let’s go,” I urged frantically as we dashed into the night.
“Drive safely!” my mother called out the door after us. “It won’t help if you crack up the car!”
I was backing down the driveway when Gene said in a calm, even voice, “Get out of sight of the house and stop the car.”
“Why?” I said, my voice trembling. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to get home.
“I’ll get us home.”
“Maybe you should drive. My hands are shaking,” I said as I pulled off the side of the road and stopped the car. I took the keys out of the ignition and handed them to him.
He wasn’t smiling, but he did wink at me. I heard the merry sound of bells and suddenly we weren’t four miles away at my mother’s; we were on the side of the road in front of my house. I looked at Gene quickly and whispered thanks before I opened the door and went running up the lawn. I slipped and skidded on the snow-covered grass beneath my feet. As I got closer, I could see that my house was still standing and I didn’t see any flames. I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.
I hurried over to the fire chief. “What happened?” I cried. “Is my house on fire?”
“Calm down there, Ms. Patton. Your house is okay, but somebody sure as shooting tried to burn it down.”
“What do you mean? What do you mean?” I was practically shrieking. Gene walked up behind me, holding Brady. He put his arm around my shoulders.
“Somebody poured gasoline all around the outside of your house, lit it, and tore out of here. Your neighbor Jerry Moore and his friend David saw a pickup truck racing down the road. It almost hit one of those peacocks of his. Good thing too, because Jerry looked over and saw flames. He called it in.”
“But my house is okay?”
“Yeah, it never caught fire. You were lucky it’s snowing. The heat melted the snow and made the grass wet. The house didn’t catch, and besides that the guy didn’t bring enough gas to do much more than dribble a thin stream. He didn’t get it close enough to the siding either. You had a really dumb arsonist or you wouldn’t have a house. The gasoline fire had pretty much burned itself out by the time we got here. The fire marshal will want to talk with you tomorrow though. You got any enemies, Ravine?”
I nodded. All I could think was, Scabby Hoyt.
Gene said he’d stay downstairs and keep watch during the night. I asked him if he needed a pillow and some sheets for the couch. He said no, he’d duck into his bottle if he wanted some rest. I wasn’t going to put the cork back in it if he did, now was I?
I gave him a dirty look. I still felt guilty about doing that the other night. I tucked Brady into his crib, taking the time to read to him for a couple of minutes and sing him his favorite lullaby. He usually liked to listen to a CD while he fell asleep, so I held out a couple of jewel cases and let him grab one. I don’t think he really picked any particular album on purpose; it was more a random choice, bu
t tonight he latched on to Cowboy Junkies’ Lay It Down. I put it in the player and as I kissed him good night the first track began to play. It was “Something More Besides You.” My throat got tight; I couldn’t bear to listen to it.
When I slipped into my own bed, sleep wouldn’t come although tiredness had seeped into my bones. I tossed and turned thinking the same thoughts in a Möbius strip of repetition: My mother thinks Gene loves me. Gene had a girlfriend back in Australia. He’s going to marry her if he gets back there. He made love to me. He’s going to leave me. I’m so dumb. No, I’m not dumb, I’m easy. Yes, I am dumb. I really care about him. He’s not even a real guy. He’s a genie. He lives in a bottle. Genies aren’t real. Gene is real.
I didn’t understand it. And he was going to leave me. I couldn’t get past that. Even if he did love me—and I only had my mother’s word for that—he was going to leave.
I punched my pillow. I felt mad and sad at the same time. Plus I kept berating myself for underestimating Scabby. I knew he hated the Pattons, but I hadn’t believed he’d go as far as setting my house on fire. My stupidity could have endangered my son and cost me my home. I was finished with it. I’d tell the fire marshal what I knew and maybe he’d get Scabby arrested on an arson charge. Scabby was so dumb he probably still had the gasoline cans in the back of his truck.
Having made a decision, I felt a little better and finally dozed off around four a.m. For the next few hours, I slept the sleep of the innocent—and the ignorant, because I was dead wrong.
When I finally managed to pry my eyes open the next morning, I felt like a steamroller had run me over in the night. I ached everywhere. My face was puffy. I felt fat. I figured I was getting the worst case of PMS in the history of the entire universe. I made my way downstairs with my eyes barely open. I was operating on three hours’ sleep. Along with the adrenaline jolt of last night, I suspected that my surging hormones were the reason there was a hammer beating on my skull from the inside out.
I entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the Mr. Coffee machine. The contents of the carafe were fresh-brewed, strong, and hot. I couldn’t find anything to complain about. I stared at the wall as I gulped down half a cup of Morning Blend. Then I took a deep breath and turned around.
Of course, I had noticed that Gene was feeding Brady before I reached the coffee machine. I just hadn’t acknowledged him. Some mornings I didn’t want to talk to anyone. This was one of them. I made no excuses for my grouchiness. Among other things, I was an owl, not a lark.
“Hello, Miss Merry Sunshine,” Gene said, saluting me with a spoon filled with rice cereal.
“Why are you feeding my son?” I grumped.
“Because he was hungry. Because I thought you’d get to sleep another half hour if I did. Because I’m really a nice guy.”
“He’s getting too attached to you. I don’t want him grieving when you disappear. I’ll feed him from now on. Got it?”
Gene looked taken aback. “Got it,” he said. “Anything else you want to blame on me this morning? Your bad hair day?”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I put a hand up to find it felt like a bird’s nest stuck to the side of my head.
“Or maybe it’s my fault it’s snowing.”
“It’s snowing? It didn’t stop? The monster storm wasn’t supposed to hit until this afternoon. Oh crap. Double crap. Triple crap.” I made my way to the kitchen window. The world outside was white. The sky was white, the ground was white, the air was white. “We don’t usually get our first big snowfall until after Christmas. It looks as if there’s a couple of inches out there already,” I said more to myself than to Gene.
“Maybe three inches. Or at least there was when I cleaned off the walk and shoveled the driveway. The snowplow already went by. The road doesn’t look too bad. Your appointment should be able to get here.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh sweet Lord. Peggy Sue.” My eyes popped open as I glanced over at the clock on the microwave. “What time is it? Geez, it’s already seven thirty. I need to take a shower. I have to get dressed. I need to get Brady dressed. I’ll never have time—” I stopped talking and looked at Gene. “Uh, do you think you can change Brady’s diaper and give him a bath?”
“What happened to ‘He’s getting too attached to you’?”
“Oh shut up, Gene. Genie. Whoever the hell you are. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Scabby Hoyt tried to burn down my house. I have to figure out a way to support myself and my son. And—and—I had sex with you! Then I found out you have a girlfriend!” I stomped out of the kitchen but I could hear Gene say to Brady as I started up the stairs, “Women! I can’t understand them, do you?”
Brady sang out at the top of his lungs, “Ma ma ma!”
Chapter 10
Despite the dreadful weather, Peggy Sue rapped at the side door that led to my new office precisely at eight a.m. She had on an old down jacket and plastic boots. Her hair and her eyes appeared equally lifeless, her upper lip sank back because of her missing uppers, and her stooping shoulders conveyed an overall impression of a woman who was close to giving up.
“You fixed this room up real nice,” she said, looking around.
“Thanks. Take off your coat, Peggy Sue. You’re all wet. Let me hang it up for you. Sit right there on that blue chair. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Don’t go to no trouble for me. I can get a cup when I get to the Pump ’n’ Pantry.”
Once I took Peggy Sue’s coat, I could see that her collarbones jutted out above a “Made in America” T-shirt. Her arms were skinny and her jeans hung on her hips. Maybe she hadn’t been eating. I didn’t remember her being this thin.
“It’s no trouble, Peggy Sue. I have a refrigerator and coffeemaker right in here under this side counter. I need a cup myself. I won’t feel right if you don’t have one.”
I poured out two cups. I kept mine black, but I put extra cream and sugar in Peggy Sue’s, which is how most farm people drink it around here. I didn’t ask; I handed her a big mug. She took a sip.
“Good coffee, Ravine. I ’preciate it. And I ’preciate you seeing me.”
I usually don’t like having a desk between me and the person coming to see me, so I sat down in the chair next to hers. I leaned toward Peggy Sue. “Okay, tell me how I can help you.”
“I sure hope you can, because I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this,” she said and a tear slipped out of her eye and ran down her hollow cheek. Unhappiness was rolling over her like the tide coming in. “I’m working two jobs and there still ain’t enough money to take care of my kids. I’m afraid I may lose my house. I thought my troubles were over when that insurance company settled, but things got a passel worser.”
“Start at the beginning, Peggy Sue,” I urged. “What was the insurance company settling about?”
“The accident, the one where my teeth got knocked out two years ago. A tractor trailer hit my car. I was on my way to my job at Offset—I work the night shift—when this guy plowed into me nearly head-on. He fell asleep at the wheel and crossed right over into my lane. Don’t know why I wasn’t killed, but I guess the good Lord don’t want me yet. I got a big scar where my head split open.” Peggy Sue turned her head and parted her lank hair with her fingers. An ugly scar ran from the top of her head right down the back of her neck. “I get fearsome headaches all the time.”
“So how much did the company settle for?”
“Eighty-eight thousand two hundred dollars and twenty-nine cents. Do you believe how much? I kept thinking I could quit my job at Offset and open a day care right at my house. I’m real good with kids. My husband, John, don’t work. He can, but he don’t. He’s collecting unemployment and soon as his check comes he’s over at Torchy’s. I wanted to use that insurance money to put an addition on the house for the day care. It would have a bathroom and kitchenette. Everything. I’d still have plenty left to put away for my kids. I had it all figured out.”
“So what happened?”
“I signed the check and deposited it in our account over there at the bank in Bowman’s Creek. Afterwards John, me and the kids went to Vic-Mar’s Seafood House down in Plymouth, you know, and celebrated. I never suspected a thing, no I didn’t. That lying polecat no-good sonabitch went back to the bank the next day and withdrew the money. He’s up in New York State with some young tramp.”
“When did this happen?” I said, thinking there was a good chance that the money had already been spent.
“Two weeks ago. Mary Ann, the teller from the bank, she’s a neighbor. She called me as soon as John walked out that door. Yes she did. But it was too late. I didn’t know where he went. Finally his mother told me he called her and where I could find him. Even she knows he’s no damned good.” Anger gave her eyes some life.
“Do you have an address for him?”
“I sure do.” She opened up a plastic handbag and took out a sheet of paper. She handed it to me. Her husband was at Happy Trails RV Park up near Binghamton, New York.
“Can you get me the money back, Ravine? It’s mine, hain’a or no?”
I started to explain without getting too technical that Pennsylvania was a community property state, where a husband and wife held assets jointly. But that didn’t apply to all assets, and in this case the insurance money was Peggy Sue’s. Could I get it back? I didn’t know. I asked Peggy Sue if she wanted John back.
She practically jumped out of her chair. “Hell no! I want me a divorce. But I need that money for my kids.”
I told her I’d draw up a divorce petition and file it on Monday. I also explained that since her husband had fled the area, I could file an injunction to stop him from spending the money, but I’m not sure if Peggy Sue was following me. She didn’t look reassured.
“I guess them’s good ideas. But it sounds to me like getting my money back is gonna take a long time.”
“It might. The money might have to go into escrow.”
Again Peggy Sue looked at me without understanding.