The Husband She Can't Forget

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The Husband She Can't Forget Page 13

by Patricia Forsythe


  Biting into a cereal bar, he wandered into one of the greenhouses and out again. The tiny seedlings growing in there weren’t as interesting as the full-grown veggies outside. He’d been in the gardens before, but not during the day. When he’d been looking for food to take home to Grandma’s, or to take into town and sell to the managers at the supermarkets, his visits had always been at night.

  That had been okay, until Grandma had gotten sick and he’d been caught by those two dudes. He was still mad about having that giant guy tackle him and slam him to the ground. Dustin’s ribs, right knee and cheek still hurt.

  The sound of a motorcycle slowing and then pulling into the drive had him turning to see who was coming. His longtime habit of not wanting to be seen before he was ready made him slip behind the oak tree at the corner of the yard and watch the bike and rider who stopped beside Carly’s truck. When he stood and pulled off his helmet, Dustin realized it was the dude who had tackled him. Carly had called him Jay.

  “Jerk,” he muttered.

  When the guy went into the shed, he crouched and scurried into the house, then into the pink bedroom. Better to pretend like he was still asleep than to face that guy again. He got out the paper, pencils and pens he’d found in the desk and began drawing what he could see from the window.

  One thing he saw was Jay standing in front of Carly, waving his arms and pointing toward the house. Dustin had seen many arguments, many about him, so he suspected that’s what this was. After a few minutes, Carly got into her four-wheeler and left the guy standing where he was, shaking his head.

  Lost in his art, he didn’t hear anyone in the house until someone knocked on his bedroom door. Hastily, he shoved everything into the desk drawer and stood.

  “Yeah, come in,” he said then waited warily to see who it was.

  Of course, it was the last person he wanted to see. “What do you want?” he asked the big dude who filled the doorway.

  “Carly said for me to come find you and introduce myself, even though we’ve already met. My name’s Jay Morton.”

  Dustin didn’t say anything. He was busy studying the way the guy stood, blocking the way out. Dustin instantly decided he could go through the window if he needed to, but he wasn’t sure what his chances were of getting away since he already knew how fast this guy could move.

  Jay looked him over and Dustin straightened, wanting to make himself look as big as possible.

  “She says you need to get up and come outside.”

  “I’m up.”

  “Then come outside.” Jay stepped back, but Dustin moved around him warily, never actually turning his back to the big teenager.

  “You should know, though, that I’ll be watching you. I think Carly’s making a big mistake keeping you here, but she wants to help Mrs. Salyer. I think you’re a thief and a sneak, so I’ll be watching you,” Jay repeated.

  “Yeah, I heard you the first time.” Dustin finally turned his back on Jay and hurried out the front door, putting as much distance as possible between them.

  Carly drove up to them and gave them both a wide smile. “Good morning, Dustin. Did you get some breakfast?”

  “Yeah, so what if I did?”

  “Hey!” Jay yelped. “Don’t be dissing her, you little punk.”

  Dustin scowled at him as Carly appeared to bite her tongue and continue. “So, if you’ve had breakfast, that means you can help out at the produce stand today. Halloween is coming and we want people to buy their pumpkins from us. Sheena can’t come in today because she’s sick, so I’m recruiting you to help.”

  Dustin wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I don’t wanna work at a—”

  “I’ll pay you, of course.”

  He stopped and looked at her. He liked money. He’d gotten a little from selling the produce he’d borrowed from Carly’s gardens, but in the past, he’d mostly taken it from his mom’s purse. Maybe earning it would be better.

  “How much?” He nodded toward Jay. “I want as much as he makes.”

  Jay made a sound of disgust but before he could say anything, Carly went on. “I can’t pay you as much as Jay makes because he has experience.”

  “He’s got experience,” Jay pointed out. “At least in picking produce.”

  “Jay,” she cautioned and then looked back at Dustin. “Five dollars an hour, and you’ll earn raises as you learn how to do the various jobs around here, but you really have to work, not stand around or disappear.”

  Dustin thought about it. It sounded good to him, but he didn’t want to seem too eager, especially with his enemy standing there, watching and listening. At last he said, “Okay, then. What do I have to do?”

  She gave him a brilliant smile, like she was actually glad to have his help. It made him feel weird inside. He had to remind himself that he’d taken stuff from her to help his grandma, not because he’d wanted to. Not because he was a real thief—not like some people said.

  “We’re already getting a late start so I want us to get the stand open as fast as we can.” She waved a hand toward the four-wheeler. “I’ve picked the last of the melons and some pumpkins. We’ll take those down to the stand and you can open up, start helping customers. Do you know how to make change?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess.”

  “I’ll show you.”

  “You’re gonna trust him with the cash box?” Jay squawked.

  “I ain’t a thief!” Dustin yelled.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I was gonna pay for what I took.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jay said.

  That skeptical attitude only made Dustin madder. “You remember that note I left when you were trying to catch me but you fell asleep and your snoring scared all the animals?”

  “Hey!”

  “Well, on the back, I was keeping track of everything I harvested so I could pay for it.”

  “Harvested, huh? Well, it’s time for you to start paying, but I don’t know why Carly wants to hire you.”

  “Jay,” Carly said, “this is my decision, and my business. Why don’t you go get the other four-wheeler and start picking more pumpkins?”

  Dustin was happy to see she was getting mad, but not at him.

  Jay gave a wave of his hand as he stomped off. “Whatever.”

  He looked up at Carly. “I’ve gotta go in the house a minute, then you can show me what I hafta do.” He ran inside. This was going to be epic, he thought, but he had to be quick.

  * * *

  CARLY GAVE DUSTIN a dubious look. He was suddenly way too happy about helping her out, and she really hoped it wasn’t a terrible mistake to give him the cash box. Still, what was he going to do? Tuck it under his arm and run down the road? Besides, she needed to begin building trust with him sooner rather than later.

  “Dustin, I’m believing in you to do your best and to be completely honest,” she said as they lined up the pumpkins on top of the counter.

  “I will.” He gave a nod, even a smile.

  This was the most cooperative he’d been since she’d met him.

  She showed him how to make change, then he helped her affix the sign advertising the pumpkins on each side of the booth so drivers could see it whether they were heading north or south.

  “I find it’s easier to sell these if I go by size rather than weight, so we set prices by small, medium and large. People around here don’t care how much it weighs, they mostly want a certain size jack-o’-lantern. And don’t try and lift the largest ones. Let the buyers do that.”

  “I can do it,” he insisted. “I’m strong.”

  Seeing she’d hurt his feelings, she quickly said, “I know you are, Dustin. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t.” He looked away sullenly.

  “Okay, okay.” She pulled a ledger
from beneath the counter. “I like to keep a record of how many I sell each year, so that I know how much to plant next year. So, when you sell one, make a tally mark and we’ll add them up at the end of the day.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to do this on a computer?”

  “Probably, but we’re only making tally marks right now.”

  “So, when do I get paid?”

  “Every Friday.”

  “I gotta wait almost a week?” He gave her a put-upon look. “You’re gonna take me to see Grandma today, right? I wanna buy her some flowers.”

  Touched by his thoughtfulness, even if he only showed it to one person on earth, she said, “Oh, of course. That would be nice. I’ll pay you before we go.” Carly looked toward the four-wheeler and thought about all the work that needed to be done before she could go into town. “So, you’ll be okay here, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be okay.” He turned away, rubbing his hands together and then cracking his knuckles as if he was getting ready for a big job.

  Something about the way he said it made her nervous, but she closely observed his face for a few seconds and decided it would be all right. Besides, she needed his help, and Jay would be here pretty soon with more pumpkins.

  Less than half an hour later, she glanced toward the road and saw that several cars had stopped. Dustin must be doing a good job of selling. Maybe she would give him a bonus before she took him to see Era. He might like to get a little gift for her.

  A few minutes later she was coming out of the shed with the wheelbarrow when Luke pulled up in his truck. She gave him a quick glance then looked again when it seemed he was struggling to get his door open. At last, it flew outward and he tumbled out, barely catching himself from falling. He was laughing so hard, he could barely stand.

  “Luke, what’s going on?”

  “You...hoov...you’ve got to see...see this.” He bent at the waist to catch his breath and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

  “See what? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, but things are going to get pretty hot in a minute. And, yeah, I know, I shouldn’t be laughing about this.”

  “About what? Luke, what are you talking about?” She stared at him in frustration. In spite of his amusement, she had a bad feeling. “Luke, answer me.”

  He pointed up the lane, where Jay was driving toward the road, hauling more pumpkins out to the stand in the small trailer attached to the four-wheeler. “Too late. I don’t think we can head him off.”

  That didn’t sound good. She dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow. “What’s going on?”

  “Get in the truck,” he instructed. “You need to get down to the produce stand.”

  “Why? I can walk there.”

  “Too slow,” he said, dashing around the front of the truck and opening the passenger door for her.

  She scrambled inside and he burned gravel as he made a 180-degree turn to follow Jay.

  Luke sat forward in the seat, leaning over the steering wheel. “We can’t get ahead of him, but at least we’ll arrive at the stand when he does.”

  “Why would we need to?”

  “Just wait. I’d tell you, but I want you to get the full impact.”

  That really didn’t sound good.

  Luke was trying desperately to keep his expression under control. Puzzled, she stared ahead to see that Dustin had made a few changes to the signs on the produce stand. He’d turned them around and written new ones in thick black marker.

  Out loud, she read, “‘$8—Pumpkins as big as Jay Morton’s butt. $6—Pumpkins as big as Jay Morton’s head. $4—Pumpkins as small as Jay Morton’s...’ Oh, my goodness! Dustin!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE JERKED UP the door handle at the exact moment Jay let out a howl of outrage.

  “You little scum,” he yelled, jumping off his vehicle. “I’ll kill you.”

  “Jay, stop!” Carly shrieked. “Luke, help me!”

  Luke was already ahead of her, running to get between the two boys. He held out his arms to prevent Jay from reaching Dustin, who was laughing uproariously. That only infuriated Jay even more.

  “Get out of the way, Mr. Sanderson. Let me get at him so I can kill him.” Jay made a grab for the younger boy, but Luke blocked it. “If I bury his body in the woods, nobody will ever know.”

  “No, Jay, calm down,” Luke insisted.

  Carly put a soothing hand on Jay’s arm, and that’s when she spied the pumpkins lined up on the counter. Her mouth dropped open.

  The orange vegetables were now decorated with faces—obviously Jay’s face in different guises—drawn in the same black marker. In one he was depicted as a popular cartoon bad guy who had a swoop of hair that stood straight up from his head. In another he was a sad-eyed elephant. In the next he was depicted as Elvis Presley.

  “I had more,” Dustin said proudly. “But I sold ’em. Jay Buttface will be all over town.”

  “Aaaah!” Jay yelled, incoherent with rage as he tried to make a grab for Dustin, who skipped behind the counter and picked up one of the smaller pumpkins to defend himself. Jay made more swipes for him, but Luke blocked all of his threatening moves, finally grabbing one wrist, spinning him around and holding on to his upper arms.

  While all of this was going on, a couple of cars slowed down, looked at what was going on, and drove off with the occupants laughing.

  “Dustin, turn those signs around,” Luke ordered, still holding Jay’s arms. “And put those pumpkins out of sight.”

  “Ah, come on,” the boy protested. “It was just a joke.”

  “Now.” Luke gave him a steely-eyed look, and Dustin did as he said, although Carly had to help him lift the biggest pumpkins from the counter and replace them with undecorated ones. She tilted one back and stared in wonder at the perfection of the drawing, however inappropriate it was. This kid had natural talent. Misdirected, but brilliant.

  “Dustin, I can’t believe you did that,” Carly said, shaking her head. “Why would you write...”

  “’Cause he’s a jerk.”

  “You’re about to find out how much of a jerk I can be,” Jay yelled. He wasn’t calming down at all.

  Luke looked over at Carly and said, “The best thing we can do right now is separate them.”

  “I wanna separate him from his head!” When Jay managed to twist away from Luke, Dustin skipped behind Carly.

  She quickly turned and said, “Dustin, you go up to the house and stay in your room until I get there to talk to you. And I’d better not have to come find you. If you run away, I’ll have to call Child Services and you’ll be taken to a real foster home. Maybe far away from your grandmother, which is something that none of us want.”

  Anger, followed by fear, flared in his eyes. She hated having to say that to him, but it might be the only way to get his attention.

  Without another word, he turned and ran for the house.

  She sent a worried look after him then turned to Jay. “I know this is all about the other night when you tackled him, but it doesn’t help that you keep calling him a thief.”

  “You think this is my fault?”

  “You share in the blame, and you have to own it,” Luke said.

  “No way. If that kid can’t handle the truth, he can stay out of my sight.” He stomped angrily back to the four-wheeler and began unloading pumpkins, stopping only to glare at the ones Dustin had decorated. He snatched them up and threw them in the trailer. Carly started to protest his rough treatment of produce, but Luke put his hand on her arm to stop her. When Jay was finished, he left without a word, gunning the motor of his vehicle.

  Luke started to say something but she held up her hand. “Don’t remind me that you said I shouldn’t take Dustin, and don’t tell me I’m not handling this well. I
’m doing my best.”

  He held up his hands, all innocence. “I didn’t say—”

  “And didn’t you volunteer to help me with Dustin?”

  He gave her a wary look. “Of course.”

  “Laughing at this—” she gestured at the offensive signs “—isn’t helping.”

  “Maybe not, but did you see the faces on the pumpkins? Dead on!” He joined her behind the counter. “Did you get a good look at the Elvis one? Unbelievable.”

  Carly bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “If Dustin would decorate these other pumpkins with faces, or animals, ghosts and goblins, people would pay more for them. In fact, people could custom order what they want.”

  “People like to carve their own pumpkins,” she pointed out.

  “No, they really don’t. It’s messy and they never look good unless you’ve got one of those patterns to follow and a sharp knife. You want to put a sharp knife in that kid’s hand?”

  “Um, well, no.” She paused. “Where did you learn so much about pumpkin carving?”

  He shrugged. “One of Omi’s community center projects a couple of years ago. I was in charge of jack-o’-lantern creation. Believe me when I say people always think that’s what they want, but the messy reality is different. The kids might start the project, but they don’t like touching the slimy stuff inside the pumpkin and the mom of the family ends up doing it all. That’s why we need to get Dustin to paint faces on pumpkins. The moms of Reston will thank you.”

  “Have you never heard of child labor laws?”

  “You’re the one who had him working here. Might as well take advantage of his...productivity.”

  “You think we should reward him for what he did?”

  “No, I think he should apologize for what he did, and then you propose that he turn this into a real money-maker, with the condition that you help him set up a bank account and he saves most of the money.”

  Carly thought it over. “It would give him more incentive to stay...”

  “And make it harder for him to leave if most of his money is tied up in the Reston Savings Bank.”

  “You realize we’re talking about him as if he’s much older than twelve.”

 

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