by Anne Lovett
Jack pulled back and sat there for a few moments, and picked up his beer and took one last swallow. He picked up my can. It was nearly empty. You never did? With him, did you?
Good lord, no, I said miserably. He’s like my brother.
But you want to.
No, no, no.
Zoop the zipper went up. We’re going, said Jack, gimme that can. He drained mine and tossed the empties out the window.
The motor roared into life. The car spun through the sand, circling on the road.
I’m not going to see the plane, I crazily thought.
Jack was saying, you’ll never get Duke. He’s too good and noble. You know, there were some cute little Burmese gals in some of those villages, would give you anything you wanted. Thought it was an honor. Duke never took any. Had a gal waiting back home. Or two.
That’s not what I want, I said.
We drove back the way we had come in a dull gray fog, in silence. I felt guilty, as if we had let the airplane down by not seeing it. When we turned into the farm, I said, Are you mad, Jack? Really mad?
No, baby, he said. One day I’ll be back and you’ll be ready. We rumbled on down past the fields to the house.
I didn’t have time to think about it because there was the Caddy parked out front. Shit, they’re home, I said.
Leave it to me, Jack said, and grabbed me and gave me a long, long kiss, one that stirred everything up again. I swallowed a lump in my throat and let him come around and open my door and help me out and walk me up the front steps, my legs unsteady.
Ava flung open the door before I could reach for my house key. Her hair was disheveled, but her makeup was on, and her red satin robe flopped at the wrap, showing plenty of cleavage. Her lips were curled up like a cat that has smelled another cat. God, Mae Lee, where have you been? I called over at Lindy’s house and you weren’t there. She said you never showed at the game.
Then she saw Jack standing behind me and folded her arms. What the hell, Jack?
Hi, sweet thing, he said, oozing charm. Sorry if we made you worry. Duke around?
She bit her lower lip. He’s out. Hard work and bourbon will do that to you. Her voice became hard. Just what were you two doing?
He didn’t miss a beat, didn’t take his eyes off hers. Came out here to see Duke, forgot you two were going out. Thought I’d treat Mae Lee to a movie. All by herself on Saturday night. Didn’t think you’d mind.
The two of them were talking about me as if I wasn’t standing right there. I had a weird feeling something important had shifted.
You knew damn well I’d mind. She’s just a kid. She turned to me finally, and whatever she was going to say died on her lips. Her eyes got big as cow pats. God, Mae Lee! My rubies! That does it. I have never.
Okay, okay, just shut up, Ava. I fumbled with the wires with shaking fingers. Tears streaked my cheeks and I swiped at them with my hand, getting the earrings wet and snivelly, then I threw them on the hall table. She snatched them up before they skidded and thrust them into her satin pocket. If you ever touch these again I will kill you.
She cocked her head at Jack. You’d better be glad Duke’s asleep. I smell beer.
He jingled the change in his pocket. She didn’t have any, he said.
The man could lie like a Persian rug, but right then I was grateful.
Go to your room, Ava said. I felt suddenly, violently, nauseated. I wheeled and ran to the bathroom off the back porch, where she wouldn’t hear me, and gagged and choked and threw up and up and up, popcorn, barbecue, beer. My nose stung and I washed and washed.
When I felt better I walked into the kitchen for water and I heard her voice. Her soft voice. Her cooing, seductive voice. Why do you want to mess around with babies, big boy?
So Jack would take care of it, huh? I went back to the bathroom and was sick again.
In my room, I lay down on the chenille spread and closed my eyes, feeling as if I was being sucked into a whirlpool. Some time later I heard the old truck leave. I wondered if Ava was driving him back to town, but then I heard her footsteps in the hall, and then the angel of sleep spread great big floppy wings over me.
Or maybe it was the devil, I thought the next morning. My head ached and my stomach was still queasy. Nobody was up in the dark kitchen. I plugged in the coffee pot. Thank God for Cyrus, I thought, looking out into the dawn toward the barn where he was going in and out, seeing to the animals. I searched in the kitchen drawer and found one of Duke’s BC powders. I left a note saying I was going out riding. Cyrus didn’t say anything, he knew how things were when Mr. Duke was drinking, I guessed. I saddled Dandy and took her far, far out in the country. I avoided Lindy’s place, going down roads I’d never traveled. I arrived back in mid-afternoon, my nose red and raw, feeling no better.
Duke’s truck was gone from the yard. I draped the blanket over Dandy and walked her longer than I needed to. Still feeling awful, I walked into the kitchen.
The warmth of the house enveloped me like a blanket; I peeled off my jacket and hat and patted my chapped cheeks. Ava was wielding a spatula, buttering a rectangle of dough. The smell of cinnamon was in the air.
This was so unlike her I felt as if I’d landed on Mars.
What are you doing?
She laid the spatula down and picked up a shaker of cinnamon sugar. Making cinnamon rolls. You smell of horse, she said.
So kind of you to notice, I said. Where’s Duke?
Not gone to beat up Jack, she said. I told him you and Jack had gone to the show and had a flat tire on the way home. She shook sugar all over the rectangle of dough.
Did he believe you?
Why not? She said. All Jack has to do is stick a hole in the tire, have it patched, and Duke will even pay him back. A small price, don’t you think?
You’re really sneaky, you know, Ava, I said.
I call it smart, doll baby.
So what’s with all this cooking? I said.
Hunt breakfast, she said.
Hunt what?
Duke suddenly decided they’re going deer hunting before Jack leaves.
He’s really leaving?
That’s what he said.
They’re going deer hunting?
You sound like a parrot, Mae Lee.
But Duke doesn’t hunt, I said.
I guess he changed his mind. I guess he wants to be gung-ho, she said. I guess he wants to do something for his friend. He’s that kind of guy.
He’s not a killer, I said slowly.
Mae Lee, he’s not going to shoot anything. He’s just going along.
But the noise, Ava.
Oh, he’s over that, she said.
Was she lying, or was she fooling herself?
Chapter Twenty-Two
The party gathered the next morning in the kitchen, and Ava had fixed eggs and sausages and the sweet rolls, biscuits and peach preserves and bacon and a huge pot of coffee, and made me mix up a pitcher of orange juice from the freezer. It was ungodly early, the dawn just peeping over the fields when the blue truck rolled into the yard. I held my breath when Jack got out, dressed in camouflage. Then another truck rolled in behind him and it was Mr. Elmo Conable and Starrett and then a station wagon pulled up and it was Lindy’s dad.
The men stood out in the yard for a while talking with Duke and then they all trooped in. The dawn was taking a long time coming up; the air was full of dew and heavy with clouds.
We had set the table and now the men tucked into the breakfast. Jack didn’t glance my way, avoiding me, I was sure. They talked about the things men talk about when they are going out to kill things.
Duke didn’t join in, making sure that everybody was fed plenty. The talk turned to the weather, whether it would rain. Some thought it was likely, some thought it would hold off till late. Rain and thunder were as bad for Duke as gunshots to my way of thinking, but I held my tongue. What else could I do?
They headed out in good spirits. There was an old deer stand back in the woods
that had been there since before the war and I thought that’s where they might be going. I prayed to God that the deer would all go into hiding.
Sure enough, it started raining hard around lunchtime and then sleet began to come down about an hour later. They straggled back from the fields, cold and hungry and wet and complaining. Duke changed clothes and the others let us take their camo shirts and stick them in Ava’s new electric clothes dryer.
Not one deer did they see. Not even a whiff of one. Ava had counted on them staying out all day and eating the sandwiches they packed, so she didn’t have any lunch ready. We broke out jars of Elzuma’s home-canned vegetable soup to go with the sandwiches and we still had the rest of a pecan pie, so they ate pretty well.
Starrett Conable got up from the table and came into the kitchen where I was eating pie and looking at a Sunday paper. He was in a T-shirt and camo pants and I suddenly realized he had muscles I had never noticed before. It made me disoriented, like the stubble on his face. Your childhood buddy, the pebble in your shoe, should not suddenly sprout a set of muscles and whiskers.
We should have gone to my granddad’s place, he said. Plenty of deer over there.
I just shrugged.
So where were you Friday night?
I had other plans, I said. I put down my fork and inspected my nails.
Have anything to do with that guy in there?
I couldn’t play dumb and ask what guy, because Jack was the only one who wasn’t a parental figure.
Why do you ask? I said coolly.
Because you keep looking at him.
I do not.
I saw you, Mae Lee.
You lie.
Have it your way, he said.
Do you want some more pie? I said. I found myself looking into his eyes, which were as hard as I have ever seen them.
You don’t know what I want?
Be nice, Starrett. I took a last bite of pie and licked my fork.
Goddamn it, Mae Lee. He grabbed my wrist, but just then Ava came into the kitchen to get pie for somebody and he let my wrist go.
You kids behave, said Ava.
I’ll check and see if the shirts are dry, I said. The sleet was still coming down outside. It was like the whole sky had opened up. I jumped up and went over to the dryer, opened it and felt the shirts. Almost, I said, and Starrett had followed me.
Ava had gone back in with the pie, and he slid up close behind me and touched my shoulder. What is it with you, anyhow, Mae Lee?
I wheeled to face him. What makes you think there’s anything? Just leave me alone, Starrett Conable. But his face was inches from me and I was afraid he would grab me right here in my own house and kiss me like he owned me. I stifled a sob, because he could be so great a friend sometimes and now he acted like this. I ducked out and burst into the dining room. I’m sure I must have looked stupid.
Does anybody need anything? I gulped.
Jack looked over at me.
I’ve got things taken care of, Mae Lee, Ava said.
The phone rang and I went to answer it. It was Aunt Talley, for Duke. The fourth baby had come, and they were going to name him Robert Dulany Davies.
The weather didn’t improve. Monday morning when I got up for school I looked out on rain sheeting down in slivers, puddling in the brown grass, riddling the barnyard with channels of mud.
The hallway was dark, except for a light from the kitchen. The rising damp had settled into everything. Even the white kitchen curtains drooped like a miserable old lady. Duke was out checking the livestock. Ava stood at the stove wrapped in a robe, stirring a pot of grits.
Good morning, Mae Lee, she said. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
What’s good about it? I poured myself a cup of coffee, hoping it would be strong. She ignored me, humming, and spooned up grits and eggs into a plate and handed it to me. Biscuits aren’t done. Got up a little late.
I’m still not caught up on my sleep, I said. I hope I don’t sleep through class.
And I have to go to Macon today, Mae Lee. Can you get supper?
Macon? Why? When will you be back?
Doctor, she said. Thought I’d do a little shopping while I was there. I don’t want to rush.
You don’t look sick, I said. I sat down at the table and broke the yolk on my egg, stirred it into the grits.
I’m not sick, but I don’t have a baby.
Holy moley, I didn’t know you had any motherly instincts.
She gave me a murderous look and slid the biscuit pan out of the oven.
Is it ’cause Aunt Talley had number four and named him after Duke?
Duke’s sister has nothing to do with it. I want a baby. She jabbed the spatula at the biscuits just as Duke opened the back door. A biscuit flew off the pan and landed at his feet. He picked it up, dusted it off, and set it on his plate. He scooted back a chair and sat down. Ava went behind him and kneaded his shoulders. Today I’m going to see that doctor in Macon. Mae Lee’s going to make supper if I’m late.
He patted her hand and his smile was like a lightbulb had been switched on behind his eyes. We’ll do whatever he says. Get the best doctors.
He had never talked about kids before, so I didn’t know how he felt on the subject. But now he was saying, Pick up a little something to send to Talley and my li’l namesake.
Okay, she said. Silver maybe.
I finished up my plate, gathered up the dirty dishes, and ran a sink of soapy water. I wondered what would happen if one day I told her I wasn’t going to wash the dishes. What kind of hell would break loose? What if I sailed them around the room and let them crash into the wall? I hated those tacky swan dishes, anyhow. What had happened to Momma’s dishes, the blue willow? I plunged one of the swans into the suds, drowning it. When I finished them, I left them on the counter for her to put away. If I didn’t hurry I’d be late for school.
I grabbed my jacket and books and dodged through the steady rain to Momma’s old Ford. I turned the key. The machine that Chap had always kept in perfect running order coughed and sputtered, but it started. I breathed a sigh of relief when I hit the highway. I was glad to be putting road between me and Ava that morning.
I knew it was Talley’s baby. Ava was jealous of the attention Duke was giving her. I thought about the way Ava had been flirting with Jack, the way she’d spoken to him. Was she trying to make Duke jealous? There was some kind of restlessness in her, the restlessness I’d seen when Duke had been overseas. Oh, hell. Maybe a baby would calm her down.
I was sitting in the Cremee-Freez with the kids after school, but I just couldn’t join in the giggles about Glenn Dorris. They said he was out parking with somebody and got his car stuck in a ditch and missed curfew and his parents grounded him and the coach was fit to be tied because they wouldn’t let him go to practice. I should have been interested but I wasn’t. I slid out of my booth. I’ve got to go home and start dinner, I said.
Cinderella goes back to the hearth, Lindy said.
And there’s no handsome prince, I said.
Starrett Conable gave me a lopsided, knowing smile as I rose. Doesn’t matter, he said. Your big feet would break the glass slipper.
I hate you, I said.
He laughed. I just love you when you’re mad. And then he winked at me. Oooh!
Ava wasn’t home when I got there, which was good considering my mood. It was too soon to start supper. I changed into jeans and a warm sweater and riding boots. A few minutes later I was in the tack room looking over the torn saddle. Since my tumble, the saddle had just lain in the corner gathering dust. I lifted it and picked at its brittle leather straps and dropped it. Just then Duke came into the barn. Thought I saw you home, he said.
I want to jump, I said. Can we fix this?
I’d have to find somebody. Saddlemaker.
Oh, damn, oh, shit, I cried, and turned to the wall.
Hey, punkin, strong language for a pretty girl. I turned back and he looked at me wryly. What’s wrong?
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I want to jump. I want to do something dangerous. Maybe I can climb up on the barn, huh? I clenched my fists and looked for something to beat on, but I saw only Duke’s chest and I couldn’t beat on that.
What’s eating you? There’s something between you and Ava. What?
Nothing. Then as he waited, I’m sick of her bossing me, I said.
So stand up to her.
You don’t, I said, and a curtain drew behind his eyes.
That’s different, was all he said. He stepped out of the tackroom and looked up, hand to his forehead for shade.
I stepped out, too, and looked up at the late afternoon sky, at slanting rays drawing long shadows from the fence posts, at clouds reflected in puddles left from the rain. The horses came out into the paddock and stuck their noses over the side, looking for a treat. I rubbed the mule’s nose. I’m supposed to be doing something about supper.
I’ll have the saddle fixed. He turned to me. Put on the Western saddle, he said. Let’s go for a ride, you and me. I want to talk to you anyhow.
What about? I said, my voice getting thick. Ava will be mad if I don’t have supper ready.
Soup and cornbread’s fine, he said. We’ve got plenty of bread from last night. Heat it up with a little butter.
Hokay, chief, I said, and went for my saddle.
We took the horses down the road that led through the cornfields, the road that led to the far fields, the fallow fields, on the very edges of Duke’s land. We passed the artesian pond, the sky throwing long streaks of gold across the falling indigo, reflected in the dark, wind-rippled water.
We crossed the cow pasture where the land rose to a small hillock, sloping to fields and woods beyond. I loved the quiet of dusk, and here there was a fragrant evening smell, and owls tu-whooing in the distance.
Duke pulled Nimrod to a halt under a spreading pin oak. I stopped beside him and waited. I could hear myself breathing. The horses snuffled and blew.
You’ve been in my footlocker, he finally said.
Oh, Lord, oh, Lord. I’m sorry, I said. I was bored. I was curious. He looked out at the setting sun. It was private, Mae Lee.