I stopped in Indiana to fill up with gas and get something to eat and by afternoon I was in Illinois. The roads weren’t busy and I just kept driving, putting Lexington well and truly in my rear view mirror. When I crossed into Missouri I was surprised at how many miles I had traveled and I was tired, but I felt good. The sun was just starting to go down and I was keeping my eyes open in hopes of coming across a cheap motel for the night. And then, as if by providence, a road sign caught my eye.
Lovely—14 miles
A town called Lovely? I’d never heard of the place but I was intrigued enough to investigate. When I reached the turn-off, I followed the signs directing me to “Beautiful Downtown Lovely.” The downtown was built on a square and brick streets surrounded the square’s center, which had bright green grass, colorful flowers and a wooden gazebo.
It was quaint and charming. Nice. But was it my future home? I pulled into a parking place and considered my options. I could always find a motel here and explore Lovely tomorrow. Movement near a flower basket that was hung on an old-fashioned black iron light post caught my eye. A bright blue butterfly landed on the greenery.
My breath caught in my chest. My mom had loved butterflies. This was the sign I needed. I determined right then and there that I’d try to make a life for me and my baby right here—in Lovely, Missouri.
LESS THAN A WEEK after arriving in Lovely I’d found a place to live. My new home had a combination kitchen/living room, a bedroom and a small bathroom. The landlord had rented it to me without a deposit since it was a mess and I agreed to clean it up before moving in. Two full days of scrubbing, carpet shampooing and painting had transformed it. I didn’t have furniture, but I had a place that was all mine. The furniture would come later.
As I looked out the window at the cornfield that bordered the property, I heard the rumble of a train punctuated by the burst of its blowing whistle. The tracks were only about a quarter of a mile from my efficiency apartment–just another reason for the bargain rent of $250 a month.
For now, I was focused on finding a job. I’d filled out applications all day yesterday. Lovely wasn’t a big town, and I hoped I’d find enough places that were accepting resumes. I planned to hit the pavement again today.
I had less than fifty dollars left. I was trying to eat as cheaply as I could while still nourishing my growing baby. A bag of apples from the local grocery store had set me back more than five bucks yesterday. One of those apples and some peanut butter had been my dinner last night after a full day of job hunting.
It was less than a mile from my apartment to Lovely’s downtown, so I packed an apple for lunch and decided to walk into town. I planned to splurge on breakfast at the diner I’d walked past several times yesterday during my job search.
About ten minutes later the diner came into view. An unlit neon sign for ‘Gene’s Diner’ hung in the front window and a buzz of activity greeted me when I walked in. Several heads turned in my direction when I walked in. The regulars were giving me a friendly once over.
All the tables were filled, so I crossed the black and white checkered floor and slid onto a stool at the counter. The day’s specials were written out on a chalkboard. Two eggs, two pieces of toast and two pancakes for $3.99? Sold.
“Hi, hon,” a middle-aged woman greeted me, stopping for just a beat. “Be right with you.” She flew past with a platter in hand, raising it into the air just in time to avoid running into another waitress.
Gene’s was filled with lots of gray-haired women, and men wearing ball caps with seed companies or tractor logos stamped on the front. I was definitely the youngest person here.
Five minutes later, the woman who had greeted me was back, pad in hand. “Sorry, hon. We’re short on help. What can I get you?”
My ears perked up. “Short on help? I’m looking for a job.”
She scanned me quickly. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen. Turning nineteen in a few months.”
“Any waitressing experience?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner and a hard worker.”
She shook her head. “This place is a zoo every morning. It’s no place to learn how to waitress.”
“If I could just talk to the owner—”
“You are. I’m Margie. My husband Gene and I are the owners.”
Her sharp tone told me that I was at Strike Two.
“Of course,” I said. “I really need a job. I promise if you just give me a chance, you won’t be sorry.”
“You from Lovely? I don’t recognize you.”
“No, ma’am. I just moved to Lovely recently.” I held out my hand. “I’m Ivy Gleason.”
She eyed me silently, not shaking my hand.
“I just need a chance,” I said, my voice unsteady. I cleared my throat. “I’ll learn fast and work hard.”
Margie looked to be around fifty, and I could tell she was a practical woman. Her light brown hair was cut short and she didn’t wear any makeup. Her lips thinned as she pressed them together, considering.
“You’d have to work early,” she said. “Five am to one pm. And two of your days would be on the weekend.”
“Sounds perfect. I’m a morning person.”
Her skeptical look faded. “Okay, Ivy. We’ll try it. We could sure use a fresh young face around here.”
I wanted to leap off the stool and hug her, but I contained myself and settled for a smile. “When can I start?”
“Tomorrow? Can you come back at two this afternoon and we’ll do the paperwork?”
“I’ll be here. Thank you, Margie. I won’t let you down.”
“Well, employees eat free, so how about some breakfast?”
My stomach rumbled with approval. “I’d love some. The special would be great. Eggs over medium and wheat toast. And some orange juice.”
She scrawled my order in her notepad and set off again.
When I returned that afternoon, Margie took me back to the kitchen to meet Gene. He was a tall, lanky black man with a warm smile. When Margie introduced us, he smiled, nodded and grabbed the bill of his baseball cap, tipping it down just a bit in a greeting.
“Do we have enough eggs to get through tomorrow?” Margie asked her husband.
“Reckon we do,” he said, not looking up from the grill he was scraping clean.
“Our deliveries have been off a few times lately,” she said, looking at me. “They shorted us on eggs and brought us too much butter.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” I said, although I was pretty sure Margie and Gene wouldn’t let a problem like that slow them down.
“Let’s go sit in the office in the back and get your paperwork filled out. Just get a drink if you . . .” Her voice trailed off and when I turned to see why, she was staring at my midsection. “Are you pregnant?”
My hand instinctively went to my slightly swollen belly. “Yes, I am.”
She sighed deeply and folded her arms across her ample chest. “If you’ve got a boyfriend who thinks he can sit in our restaurant all day and visit with you, this ain’t gonna work out.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend. It’s just me. Me and my baby, that is.” I rubbed my tiny bump. “Besides my landlord and the lady at the grocery store, you’re the only people I’ve spoken to in Lovely.”
“Are you just passing through? Planning to leave soon?”
“Margie,” Gene said. “You need the help.” He’d obviously overheard our conversation.
Margie pursed her lips and turned to lead me back to the office. I turned to give Gene a grateful glance, but he was absorbed in cleaning the grill. The paperwork was quick and easy and Margie was really nice. I was relieved to have a job. I’d work my tail off to prove to them that they had done the right thing in taking a chance on me.
Later that night, excited anticipation made it hard to sleep. I thought about what to wear, and when to arrive, and when I would receive my first paycheck. I must’ve exhausted myself because the next thing I knew it was 4
am.
But by noon that day I knew I’d have no trouble sleeping in the future. I’d been in motion since five am. Margie didn’t take it easy on me because I was new, or because I was pregnant, and neither did the customers. I was sweaty, frazzled and exhausted by the end of my shift. But I had $52 in tips in my pocket, and that felt good. I ate a plate of food before leaving, hardly even tasting it, and then I went straight home to bed.
That was how my weekdays went for the next five months. On my days off I grocery shopped, hit all the local garage sales to furnish my apartment, and went to the library. I would always take a book with me when I did my laundry at the Lovely Tub-o-Suds.
I was two days from my due date when a contraction woke me up at three am one late September morning. I called Margie so I could leave a message that I wouldn’t be in because I was going to the hospital. Even though it was the middle of the night she answered the call.
“Hello?” she said in a groggy tone.
“Margie, it’s Ivy. I’m sorry I woke you. I just wanted to tell you that I won’t . . . ah . . . hang on.”
I gritted my teeth through the pain of the contraction.
“Are you in labor?” Margie cried, wide awake now.
“I think so.”
“I’ll be right there to pick you up.”
“Just meet me there. I can drive myself.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll be there in five minutes, Ivy. Sit tight.”
It was the scariest, most painful and amazing day of my life. Margie stayed with me through the nine hour labor, telling the nurses to “get their asses in gear” when I needed pain medication. She put cold cloths on my forehead, commiserated with me and told me a hundred times that I could do this.
And, somehow, I did. My exhausted tears became joyful when a nurse put my newborn son in my arms. He was tiny and wrinkly and completely perfect.
I longed for my mom more than ever. She would have loved her grandson as fully and immediately as I did. But as much as I missed her, I was grateful to have a family again.
“It’s just us,” I whispered to the warm bundle in my arms. “It’s you and me against the world, Noah.”
LOVELY HADN’T CHANGED SINCE I’d been away, but I sure had. While I’d enjoyed my life in the big city of St. Louis, it had given me a new appreciation for my hometown and I was beginning to realize it was the small things that were making the biggest impact on me. In high school, my favorite place to get a sandwich after high school basketball games was the Corner Deli. It was still there on the corner and it still had colorful painted ads on the windows, many of which were wrought with misspellings.
The deli owner, Mack, wasn’t much for spelling, but he made a hell of a sandwich and I was here to get four orders of my favorite menu item—the signature Mack Attack.
Mack was working the front counter when I walked in. I hadn’t seen him in years, but he pretty much looked the same. His belly was a little bigger, his hairline was a little further back and his face was a little more wrinkled.
“What’s it gonna be?” he asked when I got to the front of the line.
I opened my mouth to order but he cut me off.
“You one of the Lockhart boys?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which one? I know you ain’t the surgeon ‘cause he took out my gallbladder a couple years ago and he’s older than you. Tall son of a gun like you, though. How many of you boys are there, anyway?”
“Five.”
“Huh. One of your brothers is the accountant, right?”
“That’s Austin.”
His eyes widened and he hiked his brows up. “You the one that got left at the altar?”
I cringed inwardly. “Yep, that’s me. I’m Reed.”
“That was a hell of a thing. What kind of a woman leaves a Lockhart at the altar?”
“Well, it was five years ago. We were both fresh out of college. I think we’ve both moved on.”
I scanned the menu, hoping he’d get the hint that I wanted to order.
“Did ya at least get the ring back?” Mack asked.
“I didn’t want it back.”
“So which one are you? The youngest?”
I exhaled with aggravation. “I’m the next to youngest.”
“You here visiting your folks?”
“I’m moving back to Lovely, actually. I’m an attorney and I’m joining my dad’s practice.”
Mack smiled his approval. “Tall, handsome guy like you who’s an attorney? You’ll snag some nice Lovely girl and have a house full of kids in no time.”
This guy couldn’t take a hint, so I decided to end the conversation on my own. “Can I get four Mack Attacks with pickles and chips? And four bottles of water.”
“You got it. Where you movin’ to?”
“The apartment above the office.”
“We’re practically neighbors! Hey, maybe I can get your advice on a parking situation I’m having.”
“Uh . . . I’m not familiar with Lovely’s codes. I really couldn’t give you any legal advice on that.”
Mack grunted and turned to pass my order through an open window to the kitchen. I scrubbed a hand over my face and left the counter to wait at one of the tables, hoping that would keep Mack from striking up another conversation.
When my order was done, I took it back to my new place, jogging down the alley and up the wood staircase in the back of the brick building.
My parents and one of my older brothers, Austin, were all unpacking boxes in my new living room. My black lab Snoop ran toward me as soon as I walked in, dragging a piece of brown packing paper in his mouth.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, setting the food down on the counter so I could scratch his ears. “You like our new place?”
“We may have to eat around the coffee table,” my mom said. “The kitchen table has boxes of dishes on it.”
“You guys don’t have to stay and work here all day,” I said. “I can get all this unpacked.”
“Nonsense.” Mom furrowed her brow. “My fourth son is back home for good. I want to help you settle in.”
Austin was flipping through one of my old Lovely High School yearbooks. Once Mom and Dad had moved out of earshot, he spoke in a low tone. “Did you know Meredith moved back?”
“No.”
“Yep. Guess it didn’t work out with her and the new guy.”
I grunted dismissively. I’d heard from friends that my ex-fiancée got married a month after she called off our wedding.
“She joined Mom’s knitting club even though Mom’s not her biggest fan. I was over at Mom and Dad’s house with Hannah last time they did the knitting thing and I heard Meredith getting all excited when she found out you were moving back.”
“Jesus, man. You go to knitting club with your wife? How pussy-whipped are you?”
My brother shoved my shoulder. “I just went to hang out at Mom and Dad’s. I drank beer and talked to Dad the whole time.”
“Or did you knit a pink sack for Hannah to carry your balls around in?”
Austin glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if Mom was within earshot. “Fuck you,” he said in a low tone after he saw that she was in the kitchen.
“With a ribbon to tie it shut?” I continued. “Bet that bag’s in her purse right now.”
“Hannah’s not like that, asshole.”
“I didn’t say Hannah’s like that. Marriage is like that. There’s no way you get to play as much basketball as you used to. Or go have a beer anytime you want. Or take a week long hunting trip if you feel like it.”
“We’ve got a two-year-old and Hannah’s pregnant. My life’s not all about me anymore.”
I gave him an apologetic glance. “I know. And I know you’re happy. I hope to have what you do when I get older.”
“You’re only twenty seven. There’s no hurry.”
“You were younger than that when you got married.”
Austin smiled. “Yeah. But I knew Hannah was the one. You s
hould never get married because you think you’ve reached an age where you’re supposed to. Otherwise you might end up like Kyle.”
A few seconds of silence lapsed as we both thought about our oldest brother. He’d married his high school sweetheart, Kim, right after they’d graduated. She’d insisted that if she was going to stick by him through his college and med school years, they needed to be married. And now, seventeen years later, none of us envied Kyle’s marriage. The tension between him and Kim was obvious. She seemed resentful, but he didn’t seem to care anymore.
I SPENT THE REST of the weekend unpacking and catching up with my family and a few friends from high school. I’d thought I was leaving Lovely for good when I went away to college and then to law school. But the place looked different when seen though adult eyes. The small-town feel I’d wanted to get away from as a teenager didn’t seem so bad now.
My first morning at Dad’s office was busy. It was full of clients and walk-ins who wanted to drop in and meet me or see me again. My kindergarten and fifth grade teachers were included in the parade of people who came through. Seeing everyone reminded me that I was home again.
“Is there a special lady in your life?” Dad’s client Mrs. Lovitz asked as she embraced me in our office lobby. She was a wiry older woman with a helmet of gray powder-scented curls. Lena, our receptionist, swiveled her head in my direction. She was Meredith’s older sister, so I’d have to watch what I said around her.
“No, I’m still holding out hope for you, Mrs. Lovitz,” I said, grinning.
She laughed and laid her bony hand on my chest. “Such fit bodies on all you Lockhart boys.”
Dad was giving me an amused glance from the doorway of his office.
“I’m ready for you, Mrs. Lovitz,” he said, saving me. Mrs. Lovitz squeezed my pecs before walking away.
Dad closed the door to his office and Lena laughed from her desk. “She’s been lonely since Mr. Lovitz passed away. So, you aren’t seeing anyone?”
“I don’t have the time or the interest. I’ll be working, playing basketball or boxing in all my free time.”
Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1) Page 4