by Lynne Hugo
“Yeah?”
“Never quite managed to cut you off at the knees.” Alex honked then, and Cora laughed with him, as much at that ridiculous sound as at the memory.
JOLENE CALLED TUESDAY. She’d called twice over the weekend, but Cora couldn’t talk freely either time, and all Jo got was “Oh, we’re managing. Pain’s better thanks to the pills. Yes, Lexie’s a big help and Alex is here, too.” This time, however, Alex—who’d called in sick at work for the second day in a row—had gone to get more milk, and Lexie was out in the kitchen washing up the lunch dishes.
Cora kept her voice close to a whisper. “No. Not yet. It’s going pretty well. I heard them laugh in the kitchen before. They were sort of arguing about whether Alex could cook, but it was more teasing, you know? I’m okay, honest. I’m not about to have either one of them wash me, so pretty soon I’ll need you for that. I’m ripe enough now that we don’t need any bug repellent, that’s for sure. I don’t see how I can get any worse by holding off until tomorrow. I’m going to mention the room tonight, so we’ll see.”
Jolene had said, “Good going. Okay, then, I’ll just keep things up at Becca’s and tend to her. Don’t worry, now, she understands this just fine. I think Christine would want it this way if she knew, too.”
And then Cora teared up for just a minute. “Oh, God, I pray you’re right. I ask her, you know, in my mind, when I pray, I ask her. I haven’t heard stop yet.”
“Well, maybe she’s waiting to see how it works. Like us.”
“Maybe so,” Cora said. “Maybe so.”
“Nothing wrong with your hearing. You’re a wise woman, Cora Lee Laster. You trust yourself, hear?”
“Oh, Jo. I’m just trying to do the right thing by her and Lexie both. I’m trying to think about what she wanted before she gave up on what she wanted, you know? She saw something good in him. I’m thinkin’ she could have been right all along. And I don’t think I’m going to keel over today, but some mornings I feel Mr. Death just laying on my chest, you know? About to force himself on me. Maybe that’s ’cause of Becca, I don’t know, but Jo, I feel it. And I feel like he’s going to kiss me with his old sour breath before Lexie is grown and what then? What then? I can’t be sure Becca will…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t have to. “I know” came Jolene’s voice through the earpiece. “I know.”
“ALEX,” CORA BEGAN. “Are you still staying with that friend, or did you sign a lease on that new place you found already?”
Alex looked confused momentarily, then his face cleared. “Yeah. Um, no, I’m just stayin’ with a guy from work. Didn’t get over t’ the place to sign yet.”
They were at the kitchen table, where Alex had set out the pork chops with roasted potatoes and onions he’d made while Cora sat and directed him. Lexie had paid minimal attention to this, the second how-to-make-this-good-and-easy-recipe session Cora had run in as many nights. It was close to six, so the light outside the kitchen had softened toward twilight, but Cora had already mentioned how much she’d like to get outside on the porch to take some fresh air if Alex would help her navigate the one step down after supper.
“Well, I’m not surprised.” Of course she wasn’t surprised. She’d figured out that Alex wasn’t staying anywhere, based on the frequency of his clothing changes and the fact that she’d actually seen him through a window using an outdoor faucet to wash his face and hands before he came into the house on two mornings. She thought he must be sleeping in his truck, nearby at that. The amount of driving implicit in what he’d said were his temporary living arrangements was virtually impossible. “When would you have had time? You’ve been here so much. But I was wondering if you’d even consider this—for a little while, I mean until I’m back on my feet, wouldn’t it be easier if you just stayed here?” In her peripheral vision, Cora saw Lexie—at the refrigerator getting herself a glass of milk—whip her head around in surprise. Cora carefully gave no indication she’d seen the movement, but tried to surreptitiously take in the expression on her granddaughter’s face. It was less than abject horror, and Lexie didn’t say anything, which Cora took as license to proceed. “I mean, you’re driving back and forth so much, before work, after work, back to your friend’s…well, just the gas, let alone all that time, it just seems like it would make sense. I don’t know if you’re paying your friend, but of course, you wouldn’t pay anything here. I could even…”
“No, ma’am. Nothing like that. Okay.”
“Okay? You mean you’ll stay?”
“Yeah, I can do that. Want some potatoes?” Alex wiped his mouth on the paper napkin balled up in one hand and passed the potatoes without waiting for an answer. Anything to change the subject and avoid looking at Lexie, who, he imagined, might be having a fit behind his back. She set her milk on the table then, though, and didn’t say anything. What he’d said was true enough in a way, the part about not having had time. But he’d also been informed that he not only had to pay the first month’s rent and a security deposit, but the last month’s rent as well. At the same time, he’d had to pay N. Reardon Greevy again, who was less than ecstatic with the new turn in the road down which his client was steering a battered pickup truck littered with fast-food wrappers.
forty-two
OF COURSE HE DIDN’T have to talk to Cora about it. As his lawyer kept pointing out, he was the one with custody; he was the one with all four aces; he was the one in charge. Alex talked to her anyway, without puzzling for long about why because the why was simple: nothing he’d done with Detta had been even as good an experience as the root canal he’d had on his upper right incisor, and Cora would probably have some decent advice.
He waited until Detta had gone to a movie with Jill one airless evening. He knew, in fact, exactly where she was since he was the one who’d driven her to the theater and would pick her up. Jolene was staying with Becca while Jill was gone. It seemed Jolene had spent an awful lot of time with Becca, but he guessed she was filling in for Cora while Cora was laid up. Jolene was family to Cora and families did that sort of thing. Not that he’d know from his own experience, but he’d had glimpses from the outside.
Sometimes when Jolene called, Cora seemed to lower her voice—even whisper—which convinced Alex they were talking about him. But he’d made his bed now, literally, upstairs in the yellow guest room with the crooked shade and creaky closet door, both of which he could fix, and the complete lack of cross-ventilation, which he couldn’t. If Cora was talking about him, well, what could he do? This whole thing had been Cora’s idea, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like he’d asked for a place to stay.
He waited until Cora finished watching a show on television before he came into the living room and cleared his throat. “I wanted to get your opinion…about something,” he began, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Cora sensed his discomfort. “Well, sit down,” she said heartily. “It’d be nice to be useful for something.” She used the remote control to reduce the volume of the television. Alex could see a toilet-bowl cleaner commercial on the muted screen and hoped it wasn’t an omen.
He came deeper into the room and sat in the wing chair. Christine’s picture watched him from across the room, but it didn’t bother him hardly at all anymore. There was something to be said for getting used to a situation. “I’ve been thinking about maybe teaching Detta to drive. When I’m at work, you two wouldn’t be stuck here, then, like if you had to get to the doc…”
Cora interrupted. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Becca wanted to teach her, you know, sort of for Christine, but that hasn’t…and things have been so hectic I haven’t done anything about it myself.”
“I’ll see if she wants to, then,” Alex said. A small smile flickered across the lower half of his face though he reabsorbed it as quickly as possible. “Might be better not to teach her with my truck…startin’ off with the shift and all.” It was a question, of course, but he hated to put it that way since
it seemed to make a negative response more possible.
“Would you like to use my car?” Cora jumped in on cue. She looked shiny, the way the lamplight crossed her face, hot, as if light had weight. Almost at the same time, Alex realized the room was stultifying. The window was open, but the curtain hung as limp as the damp hair flopped on Cora’s forehead.
“Might be a good idea,” he said. “After she gets the hang of it, I can put her in the truck and get her onto the gears and clutch and all.”
“Yes, that’s a good thing to know. Of course, when I learned to drive, the gearshift was up by the steering wheel. But then, it wasn’t too hard to go from that to a floor shift when the style changed. Now I like my automatic, though Marvin never approved of them.”
“I remember,” Alex said. And he did. “Mr. Laster called mine a wimpmobile. After that, I pretty much stuck to standard transmissions. That was later, though. I just always thought of it when I was lookin’ to buy something.”
“No. Really?” It amazed and rather touched Cora that Marvin might have had the smallest influence on Alex, an unexpected flower blooming from between cracks in cement.
“Really.” Alex’s nails had grease edging them. Marvin’s hands had been rough but clean. The memory, here in Cora’s living room—which looked much as it had seventeen years ago—made Alex ball his own into fists.
“Well, that would please him.”
“It’d be the first time I ever did, then.”
Cora paused. Fair was fair. “I imagine you’re right, Alex. Marvin was hardheaded sometimes.” She paused, and considered how to put it. “People change,” she said pointedly. “Poor Marvin didn’t have a chance to, but I like to think he might have come around to some things.”
Alex thought he got her drift, but didn’t want to push it, in case. “Yeah. People change.” There was a moment of silence, then, though it wasn’t as uneasy as Alex had come to expect. He sighed, a little puff of air, a sound that could have accompanied a nod of agreement.
“You okay?” Cora asked, misinterpreting.
Alex was puzzled, but then went with what came to him. “Yeah. Hot in here.”
“I try not to think about it,” Cora said. She used the tissue she had tucked between the cushion and the side of the chair to wipe her forehead. She’d put on an old housedress that morning which made her look exactly like her own mother. In fact, that dress had been her mother’s; she’d worn one daily even after it became acceptable for a woman to wear slacks. Cora had pulled the dress off her closet shelf that morning just for the thought of having some air on her legs. The short sleeves were a bit tight about her upper arms, but when she was alone she could spread her legs a little and flap the skirt to cool herself off. Being plunked in a chair almost every waking hour was not only really old, it was really hot. July looked to be stifling, too, at least if the Farmer’s Almanac could be trusted. Marvin had sworn by it, even after it had completely missed mentioning the Blizzard of ’78, when the drifts had trapped them inside for days.
“Be right back,” Alex said. He clomped down the hall, still in his work boots, got the big fan from where it was, still aimed at the empty kitchen table, and carried it back to the living room. “Shoulda thought of this before…sorry,” he said as he plugged it in and aimed it at Cora. He adjusted the control to High. “That too much?”
“Nothing would be too much,” Cora said. “Thank you very much. That was nice. Marvin would turn in his grave if he could hear me—sorry, Marvin—” she interjected into her own sentence, rolling her eyes to the starry heaven she imagined outside “—but do you think I could ever air-condition this house? I mean, could it even be done?”
Alex considered. “Sure. You got forced air heating, so the ductwork is there. I got me some friends at the plant know some about it. Want me t’ ask how much it would be?” He itched for a cigarette, but knew better.
“That would be wonderful. I couldn’t afford it right now, I don’t think, but maybe…” Cora was alluding to the legal bills she’d amassed, along with the cost of the psychological evaluations, though she knew Alex wouldn’t infer it and she didn’t want him to. Guilt induction wasn’t her intention, certainly not now.
Another pause. “Guess I’d better get…”
Cora cut him off before he could say going. “Oh, why don’t you stay here and watch this with me? The fan’ll keep us cool and you don’t have to get Lexie for another hour, do you?”
So Alex stayed. Once, the slapstick got to both of them at the same time and then Alex’s honk was like a quick French horn mixed into the throaty clarinet of Cora’s laugh.
THE LESSON WASN’T going that badly, Alex assured himself. Not as bad as Dink had predicted, anyway. No body damage to Cora’s car nor any buildings; no dead or maimed pedestrians. It was ten o’clock on Sunday morning. Alex had figured the churchgoers were in their pews and traffic would be light until at least eleven. He doubted he’d be able to take more than an hour, anyway.
Once she’d gotten the feel of gas pedal and brake and the lurching stops and starts didn’t threaten to put him in a neck brace, Alex tried to teach Lexie how to back up, but she steadfastly refused even to try Reverse. “Forward is my friend,” she intoned, staring at the road as if hypnotized, her hands riveted to the wheel at precisely ten and two. She was wearing Christine’s opal ring, Alex noticed—not that he hadn’t noticed it on her before, but somehow the deathgrip she had on the wheel accentuated how much her hands looked like her mother’s. Alex wouldn’t have even guessed he remembered what Chris’s hands had looked like, but there he was, recognizing them with a kick to the gut of longing and nostalgia.
Cora had watched them leave, keeping herself hidden behind the swag of her kitchen curtain. Lexie had been flushed, spots of color on her cheeks. She’d wanted this for a long time, Cora knew, but she also knew that it was killing Lexie to accept even what she wanted so badly from Alex. (“Can’t you teach me, Grandma? You can get in the car, and that’s all we need.” But Cora held out, saying it wasn’t safe because she wouldn’t be able to intervene if Lexie had a problem, not laid up the way she was. Laid out, she’d almost said.)
Cora had taken Alex aside and coached him on how to handle Lexie. “Girls are different,” she’d told him. “Every little thing she does right, be sure to praise her. If she messes up, say ‘That’s okay, you can do it.’” Alex had looked at her like she’d sprouted a blue mustache, but said “okay,” his all-purpose answer. Cora had seen Lexie shoot Alex a furtive look, then approach the driver’s side with her chin jutted out exactly like Christine used to stick hers. God help them both, Cora had thought, and had shaken her head.
“But I still think it’s the best thing, don’t you?” she’d said to Jolene on the phone once she got away from the window and to the phone. “They’ve got to get to know each other. I think it’s too easy for them to avoid each other when I’m around. Not that Alex is a fountain of conversation around me, but there’s not the same tension as between him and Lexie,” Cora said, pouring herself another cup of coffee. “You’d think I’d be the one to hold the grudge,” she added, musing aloud. “I mean, there’s a lot more history.”
“That’s for sure,” Jolene said from her end. “How’re you holding up? Enjoying those crutches, are you?” Teasing.
“Oh, Jo, don’t be making me feel guilty,” Cora said. She glanced at the crutches, splayed against the hallway wall beyond the kitchen door. “It’s you I’m worrying about. You and Becca. I hope I won’t be punished for taking this time away from her.”
“You’re doing a good thing, Cora Lee,” Jolene said, her voice strong and sure of herself. “This takes a big heart, a good heart. I won’t believe in a God who won’t give you the time to make up. I just won’t. Becca’s no weaker.”
“Maybe I’ll be able to ask Alex to bring me over later.”
“I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
“I’ll see what they say about the lesson, you know, when they g
et back.”
“If one of them hasn’t killed the other one.”
“Right you are. If they’re both alive.”
AT THAT MOMENT, they were both alive. Alex and Lexie were, in fact, approaching a four-way stop and Alex was trying to explain how Lexie was to know when it was her turn to proceed. Fortunately or unfortunately, there were no other cars in sight, so the discussion was entirely hypothetical.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lexie muttered. Her hair was up in a high ponytail that swung in punctuation. “I don’t consider this a necessary stop sign. There’s never any traffic here. Never will be unless those horses stampede.” She inclined her head toward Rob Price’s small herd, munching on leftover late-June lushness. One dapple-gray mare had her head stuck between the flimsy wire fence strands to get at the thick green between her and the road, as if the pickings were skimpy in the field—which they weren’t.
Alex, who was quite capable of such a thought himself, as well as of running an obviously unnecessary stop sign, was horrified. “Oh, yeah. Great. Excuse me, Officer, but I didn’t stop because I don’t consider that a necessary stop sign. And by the way, I don’t consider that a necessary ticket you’re writing.” He stuck his elbow out the window and resisted the urge to reach into his T-shirt pocket for a cigarette. At Cora’s suggestion, he wasn’t smoking in front of Lexie. “Listen, Dets, it don’t work that way. Stop, hear me? Even when it’s a stupid sign.”
Lexie obliged by applying too much brake and nearly sending Alex through the windshield. “You can call me Lexie,” she said, something she had to get out of the way because she didn’t know what else to do about being called “Dets” in front of her grandmother. Cora eyed her accusingly when Alex said it, too.
“Why’d you say you went by Detta?” he said. It had dawned on him weeks ago that, in fact, she didn’t.
Lexie shrugged, though the answer was wanting out, tap dancing on her tongue.
“SO YOU’RE BOTH ALIVE,” Cora said when they came in. “How’d it go? You ready to get your license…Dets?”