“Oh, someone of little consequence. I’m just the woman who brought you into the world.”
“Dee Dee?”
“Most of the people I’ve given birth to call me Mother.”
I rubbed my eyes and stretched. “Most of the people? How many people are we talking about?”
A harsh laugh sounded in my ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
There was something strange about her voice. “Dee Dee, have you been drinking?”
“Who? Me?” She laughed sarcastically. “Course not. I’m still at work.”
“Yeah. When’s your shift over?”
“Six.”
I climbed out of bed and walked to my closet, where I slid my black sweatpants off my legs, then reached for my uniform pants. “Ah, you’re not planning to drive, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, are you okay?”
I could hear her hack a laugh as I stepped one leg into my pants with one-hand efficiency. The surprise hum of my bedside alarm clock caused me to look up and teeter just a bit. I tucked the phone under my chin so I could grab the doorjamb for balance. Just my luck, the phone clattered to the floor. I dove for it and stuck it back to my ear.
“What’s all that noise?”
“Just my alarm.” I pulled up my pants and scampered over to switch the alarm off. “Time to get ready for work.”
“So, I’m interrupting . . .”
“No, but I’ve been meaning to drop by for a talk, and today would be good. I could meet you at the end of your shift.”
“Well . . . you’d get off your high horse to talk to me?”
“I’m not sure that’s how I’d put it. But yes, I’d like to see you.”
“This ought to be good; I’ll be waiting.” The line went dead.
I finished dressing, then brewed a pot of coffee, which I poured into my jumbo thermos. I grabbed one of my famous pre-wrapped hero sandwiches I’d made the day before.
Zipping my leather jacket, I walked into the dusk. The sky must have grayed while I was sleeping, and the clouds overhead glowed in a pale yellow light. Muted sunsets that faded from golden-gray to black always had a way of unsettling me, especially as a night shift was starting. I rubbed my hands together and peered up at the sky. I hadn’t heard the weather report, but from the look of things we were in for some flurries. Despite the fact that the spring thaw was on its way, the news of its arrival hadn’t yet reached the high country. It would be another couple of months before the calendar would turn the page from spring ski season to mud season.
As I pulled out of my driveway, my heater purred warmth into the chill. I hit the windshield wipers in an effort to dust off a spritz of condensation before it frosted my view.
A few minutes later, when I pulled into the Gold Rush parking lot, I’d already checked in at the sheriff’s office. It wasn’t that my call on Dee Dee was official business, but I already knew the sight of me in uniform had a calming effect on her.
Darkness was settling around the shabby bar, cloaking it with a respectability that would soon be stolen by the bar’s neon sign that stood over the parking lot.
I walked past a dark figure leaning against the side of the building.
“Donna?”
I turned. “David, what are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for Velvet.”
David stepped toward me just as the Gold Rush Tavern sign blinked on, turning him pumpkin orange in its glow.
“You mean Velvet’s here?”
“Yeah, I was going to drive her home, then I’m off for my night shift.”
That’s when I noticed he was in uniform.
“Yeah, I’m working tonight too.”
“Wanna meet up for dinner?”
“No, no. I’m brown bagging it.”
“Okay. Maybe I’ll see you later, then.”
“David?” a voice called from behind me.
We both turned around as Velvet approached. “Excuse me, Velvet,” I said nonchalantly as I brushed past her.
Velvet’s voice rose just loud enough for me to hear. “Why were you talking to her?”
I paused at the door of the tavern and stole a look at the couple.
Velvet was standing in the orange light in her barmaid’s outfit, which consisted of a white blouse tucked into a pair of black pants. With her hands on her hips, she’d tilted her head to one side. Even from a distance I could see a scowl playing in the shadows that partially hid her face.
David stood with hands in his pockets, a wide-eyed look of innocence on his face.
“Just saying hello. Donna’s a friend.”
Velvet grabbed David by the arm and pulled him toward his car. “Not anymore. Understand?”
“But she’s your sister.”
Velvet turned and gave me a glare. “That woman is no relation of mine. She couldn’t be. All she does is hurt Mom.”
I turned my back on that remark and pulled open the door and slipped into the warmth of the tavern. It was almost as dark inside the joint as it was outside. Through the haze of yellow light and cigarette smoke, I spotted Dee Dee sitting in a corner booth. She hunkered over a bottleneck beer as she blew a stream of cigarette smoke in my direction. I froze, taking in the scene. She must have changed from her uniform into her street clothes because she was wearing a loose pair of jeans topped with a white sweatshirt that said “Dangerous” in large red letters. I had one just like it.
She looked up at me with glassy eyes. “What are you staring at, Officer?”
I sat down on the bench opposite her. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks, I got it last year in Las Vegas.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She stared back at me. “So?”
“So, listen, I’m really sorry about Evie today. But don’t worry; she won’t bother you again.”
Dee Dee hacked another one of her laughs. “What’d ya do, arrest her?”
I could feel a grin spread across my face. “No, but I should have.”
Dee Dee’s eyes locked with mine. “Well! Maybe you really are my daughter.” She took a sip of her beer. “But that doesn’t explain the way you’ve treated me.”
“We got off on the wrong foot. If I’d known you were my mother, before you took up that microphone to announce it at the Christmas tea, then maybe the two of us would be in a different place now.”
Dee Dee took another drag on her cigarette and stared at me. “Leave it to me to do the thing up wrong. That’s one thing I always get right.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t handle it well either. I’m sorry for that.”
She took another sip of her beer. “Well, you certainly took long enough to say so.”
“I know. I had issues.”
She grunted an agreement. “Yeah, I understand issues.”
I felt myself warming toward her. “So, here you are, Dee Dee McGurk, my mother. You know, I was only four when you left, but I remember you.”
“Do you?” She smiled softly. “What do you remember about me, Donna?”
I looked out the only window in the joint as a busboy sat a glass of water in front of me. “Gonna order?”
I shook my head and patted my radio, which was attached to my belt. “I’m on call from dispatch. Wish I could stay and eat, but it’s too early for my lunch break.”
The boy shrugged and disappeared, and I returned my gaze to the orange darkness outside. My voice was soft. “I remember your scent—lilacs.”
“You really remember that?”
I looked back into her wrinkled face. “Yeah, and I remember you rocking me in your arms in that old rocking chair in my room, singing round after round of ‘Clementine’ . . . Oh my darling . . . Lost forever, Clementine.”
Dee Dee smiled. “That was our song.”
“Yeah? Well, the song was prophetic. Somehow you were lost to me. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to make you leave.”
Dee Dee’s tired blue eyes widened. “No, Donna, you h
ave to understand. It wasn’t you.”
“Now that I’m an adult I know you were having problems with Dad. I know you had dreams of singing on a stage somewhere.”
Dee Dee nodded. “Yeah, me and my dumb dreams.”
“But knowing you had dreams made it all the worse.”
“Why?”
I simply shrugged and took a sip of my water. “I wasn’t enough.”
Dee Dee snubbed out her cigarette and leaned back in her chair. “Ouch. Okay, I know I deserve that. Hey, I’ll just add it to my load of guilt, and I’ll be off.” She stood unsteadily and dug in her pocket for her keys. “I’m sorry, Donna. I don’t know what I was thinking or what I expected, but I guess it was a mistake coming back to town.”
I stood too. “No, don’t say that.” I reached for her keys. “I’m driving you home.”
“Naw, I’m okay for the road.”
“Not if I say you’re not.”
She held up her hands. “After that evil stepmother of yours told me off this morning, I tipped a few back, I’ll admit it. But I’m okay. Really.”
I put her keys in my pocket. “You’ll ride shotgun with me.”
She looked suddenly interested. “In your Bronco?”
“Yeah.”
She gave me a sort of shy smile that surprised me. “Okay. I’d like that.”
We walked to the coatrack, where she slipped into her dark blue jacket while I zipped up my leather coat before we walked into the night and through the lazy snowflakes spiraling through the orange haze.
I opened the door of the passenger side of my cab, and she slipped in. I walked around the front of my truck then climbed into the driver’s side. “I’m glad we had this chance to visit tonight.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Yeah, me too.”
I could see the sadness in her eyes, sadness that told me we’d both lived through some of the same story—a story of heartache and loss.
I powered up the truck and pulled into Main Street and turned right. A few blocks later, I’d turned into the trailer park, past Wade’s humble abode, and in front of Dee Dee’s white and turquoise trailer. It was an older model, maybe from the seventies. I saw the interior blinds twitch. Velvet. My sister was home and watching.
I handed Dee Dee her keys. “Well, Dee Dee. I trust you’ll remember where you parked your car?”
She nodded as if to herself. “Yeah. I won’t forget this night for a long time.”
My radio crackled to life. “Donna, we have a juv over forty at the Stop and Shop.”
I unclipped my radio and held it to my mouth. “Ten-four, Clarice. I’m on my way.”
Dee Dee’s eyes sparked. “Never heard of a juvenile over forty.” “Oh, that’s cop talk for a young shoplifter with expensive tastes— I’d better go check it out.”
“All right.”
“See you soon, okay?”
She climbed out of my Bronco as the trailer blinds twitched in the window again. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Besides, I want to hear your side of the Bar-None and the Michelle Prattle bridal shower story.”
She turned and put her hands on her hips. “I wondered when you were going to get around to that.”
I leaned toward the passenger door. “Just trying to understand.”
“Well, you know that living up here in the high country ain’t cheap. Velvet and I, we’re not trying to do anything but make a living. Is there a law against that?”
“No, but it feels like you’re trying to interfere with my life and the catering company’s business.”
“Everything isn’t about you, Donna.”
With that she flounced unsteadily to her door then disappeared inside without looking back.
A few blocks later I was pulling into the parking lot of the famed Stop and Shop, Summit View’s only twenty-four-hour gas station and convenience store. I hopped out of my Bronco, and through the window I could see the proprietor, old man Carter, holding fast to a kid’s arm.
I pushed through the front door with my clipboard in hand. “What have we got here?”
“Pete Horn, caught in the act,” Carter said, dropping the youth’s arm from his plump hand.
Pete rubbed his upper arm and looked up through his coppery bangs. “I said I was sorry. I said he could have it back.”
I turned to Carter. “So, you wanna press charges?”
Carter, a man in his fifties, squinted his blue eyes at me as he folded his arms over his maroon knit shirt. His dark but graying hair was slicked back with too much hair gel. “I can’t afford to send the message that these kids can come into my store and help themselves to whatever they want.”
I looked at the kid in question, Peter Horn. He was small for his age and he wore a too-big jacket that had seen a lot of wear before it had made its way to him. “Pete, now, this isn’t my first run-in with you, is it?”
The twelve-year-old shook his head and looked down at his worn tennis shoes.
I stared at him. “So, what’d ya do? Bring a couple of shopping bags and fill her up?”
He nodded as I looked over the items spread on the counter in front of me. “Okay, I get the candy and pop. But you got a lot of frozen burritos in there. I didn’t even know those were edible.”
Carter folded his beefy arms. “Deputy, I happen to sell a lot of frozen burritos. That’s what my microwave is for.”
I ignored Carter and continued to stare at Pete’s loot. “And a carton of milk and premade sandwiches? Peter, what were you going to do? Have yourself a party?”
He shook his head. “No. I was picking up some takeout.”
Carter exploded. “Is that what you call this, you steal off my shelves and call it your takeout?”
“Sorry,” Peter muttered. “The kids are hungry.”
I gave the boy a hard look in an attempt to prompt a better explanation. “Your buddies?”
Peter looked up at me. “No, my little brother and sister.”
“How come, Peter? Why is your family hungry?”
He shrugged. “Dad’s out of work again.”
“I see.” I looked up at Carter to see how he’d take that piece of news.
He puffed out his lower lip and frowned. “Look, his family’s misfortune is not my fault; I’ve got a business to run. I can’t take on charity cases.”
“No one’s asking you to, Carter. But say . . .” I pulled out my wallet. “I owe Peter’s dad a few bucks.”
Peter looked up at me, surprised. I continued, “Carter, I don’t suppose it’s against any of your rules for me to make good on my loan by paying you what I owe Mike Horn?”
Carter gave me a look that would have killed me if I’d let it. But he didn’t hesitate as he grabbed my two twenties plus a fiver. “This ought to cover it,” he said. “But you’re not going to get anywhere if you give all your money away, I can tell you that right now.”
I turned my back on Mr. Compassion. “Come on, Pete, let me drive you home. All right?”
Carter busied himself repacking Pete’s plastic shopping bag before handing it to him. “Next time, kid, you’re not going to be so lucky. If I catch you stealing my stock again, you’re going to jail, understand?”
Pete nodded and followed me outside.
“I’m driving out your way,” I told the boy. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”
Pete hesitated but complied, appearing to be too afraid to disobey.
We rode together in silence as the evening’s white precipitation slow-danced in front of my headlights.
“Everything okay at home?”
Pete nodded. “Yeah, though Dad’s been drinking again.”
I turned onto Quail Road, and as we approached the small log house where Pete and his family lived, he spoke up. “Ah, Deputy, would you mind letting me out here?”
I pulled over to the side of the road.
“Don’t wanna scare my parents.”
“This time. But next time I’m coming in to talk about your ad
ventures to your mom.”
Pete nodded solemnly. “Okay.”
He got out and trudged down the road, carrying his load of groceries. He looked lonely as he made his way to his front door. I slowly pulled away and drove past the house, wondering about his family. My job had taught me that no one really knew what some families went through. Maybe I’d make a point to drop in and talk to his mom in the morning, make sure things were okay. If they were really hungry, I’d see what the church could do about filling the Horns’ pantry.
Later that evening, as my truck idled in my secret nighttime hideout, the drive-thru of the Gold Rush Bank, I munched on my hero sandwich and sipped coffee from the cup of my thermos.
So help me, I couldn’t get that image of Dee Dee wearing that “Dangerous” sweatshirt out of my mind. Were we so alike that we picked the same clothing? I shuddered as I thought of her tired eyes and deeply lined face. Would I soon look like her?
I rolled my eyes at my own self-pity. Yep, I was following Dee Dee’s footsteps, all right. Like her I was sad and alone. Soon my lifestyle would reflect in my face just as it did hers.
There was a tap on my window, and I jumped, spilling a drop of coffee onto my pants.
David peered in at me, grinning. I could see his paramedic’s truck parked just behind him. How had I let him sneak up on me like that? I lowered the window.
“Aha!” he said. “I knew I’d find your hiding spot sooner or later. Care for a little company?”
“Suit yourself.” I pointed toward the passenger door as I rubbed at the coffee spill with my napkin.
He waved at his partner, Randall Holmes, who was munching a sandwich. Randall lifted it in a greeting.
In a flash, David was sitting beside me. He’d brought an empty coffee mug and a white paper bag.
“Picked up a few of Larry’s cookies before they closed up the Higher Grounds.”
That perked my interest. “What kind?”
“Peanut butter. Help yourself.”
He needn’t have told me because as he poured coffee from my thermos, I was already munching away. I dusted the crumbs from my hands and asked, “Should you be here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re dating my sister.”
“Not seriously.”
“Does she know that?”
“We’ve discussed it, yes.”
The Secret's in the Sauce Page 14