by Susan Schild
Ruby’s eyes grew big as she recounted the end of the story. “Your mama didn’t like the Sober Sentinel getting piled on, so she just took her purse and swung it, trying to dislodge the fellow on top by hitting him on the shoulders.”
“But I missed and hit his head. He was an undercover policeman.” Dottie shook her head, looking regretful. “Knocked him clean out.”
“Your mama’s purse is heavy.” Dessie winced, remembering.
“Well, she does carry rocks,” Ruby volunteered, looking philosophical. “She’s been picking up a rock or two at each of her favorite places on this trip so she can bring them home to put in the front garden as souvenirs. She hadn’t emptied her rocks out of her purse from the day before. So, technically, it was assault with a deadly weapon.”
“Ah,” Diamond said, and scribbled a note.
“The undercover policeman’s name was Roddie, and he was fine once he came to. Just a little blue spot where the purse clasp hit him.” Dottie pointed to a spot on her own head to show where he had been bruised. “I apologized over and over. Then we got to talking about yard sales. He’s a big fan. We’re going to Instagram each other pictures of our finds,” she continued.
Mack gazed at her like she was the cleverest thing, and Dottie twinkled up at him.
Linny heaved a sigh, but the absurdity of the situation hit her and she began to laugh, slowly at first and then harder. Only her mama could make friends at a brawl. The others looked at her for a moment and, one by one, began laughing, too.
Her eyes shining with suppressed mirth, Diamond hushed them. But as she trotted off to talk to the powers that be, she whispered to Linny, “Your mama’s a firecracker. I just love her to pieces.”
While they waited for Diamond to come back, Linny walked her mother over to a corner, put a hand on her shoulder, and gazed at her steadily. “Are you really all right, Mama?”
“I am,” Dottie said. “I was only in that cell for a couple of hours and that nice Sergeant Bowman put me in a jail room by myself. Luckily, I had some knitting in my bag and Lila, the guard, and I had some good long talks. She was raised Baptist, too. I told her all about the gospel music museum and she told me about problems she was having with her teenaged daughter.” She sent Linny a pitying glance. “I’ll keep those stories to myself, especially because you’ve just taken on Neal, who is about her daughter’s age.”
Linny flushed but was unwilling to get sidetracked. “Promise me you will never, ever, ever approach a man you do not know and try to talk to him about his lifestyle.”
Her mother nodded, looking repentant. “I agree. Even Diesel told me it was wrong.”
Linny pinched the spot between her brow. “Who is Diesel?”
“The fellow smoking the clove cigarettes.” Her mother looked at Linny like she needed to pick up the pace conversationally. “We had a good talk on the ride down to the jail, and he’s a nice man. But he said that what I did was dangerous. I promised him I’d never do it again.” She bobbed her head, as if confirming her decision.
But Dottie made the vow with a lightness more suited to swearing off desserts for a week or trying to drink eight glasses of water a day. Linny stared at her and spoke slowly. “Mama, this is serious. If you had chastised a mean or angry man, you could have been seriously hurt.”
“I know.” Her mother shook her head, continuing to look repentant. “Luckily, it was Diesel.”
Linny scrubbed her face with her hands. “So you and Diesel are chums now?”
Her mother nodded. “We’re going to Facebook each other. I’m going to hitch him up with the lady in my prayer group whose pot-smoking son is giving her a fit. He said he used to be a druggie and might have some wisdom for her.”
Linny cocked her head, still confused about why her mother looked so darned cheerful after her ordeal. “What’s going on with you, Mama? A few weeks ago you were scared as a rabbit about being away from home and now you’re bouncing back from a night in jail and making friends with a man named Diesel.”
Her mother looked away for a moment, seemingly gathering her thoughts. “Living with your father all those years—especially toward the end, when he had that other woman and lost interest in me—I shrank inside myself,” she said, her voice quavering slightly. Breathing a shuddery sigh, she went on. “My heart was hard as a walnut and I felt real bad about myself.”
Linnny squeezed her shoulder. Mama never talked much about feelings and would roll her eyes when Oprah’s guests used to talk about low self-esteem or being good to yourself.
“Underneath it all, I was mad. It probably came out as me being a bit judgmental,” Dottie said.
Linny gave a restrained nod at that understatement. When Mama was in full-bore church lady mode, you’d confess to sins you didn’t even commit.
“But I’ve been coming back to life ever since I told my friends and my prayer group about my bad marriage. I’m feeling more. I’m trying to be open to people and experiences I would have steered clear of in the past,” her mother said.
Linny raised a brow. “Like this trip and your friend Mack?”
Dottie nodded, blushing. “I’m starting to care about people more; even ones that have hats on with steer horns coming out the side. Suspecting he was smoking dope got me all riled up. My friend’s drugged-up son got two girls in the family way, ran up her credit cards, and even sold her family silver at the flea market.” Her mother’s eyes flashed at that last, most grievous offense, a sacrilege in the eyes of every good Southern woman.
Linny leaned over and gave her a brisk hug. “I’m proud of you, Mama.”
“Thank you, honey,” her mother said, almost shyly. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It is, but no more accosting strange men,” Linny said with a hand on her hip. She remembered what the bailiff had told her and winced. “Did you really threaten to make a citizen’s arrest?”
“I got carried away,” Dottie said sheepishly. “I promise, I’ll just mind my own beeswax and enjoy my friends and the US of A.”
After some negotiating by Diamond—who laughed gaily as she reminded people she had no business practicing law in South Dakota—charges against Dottie were dropped and she was released. Linny stood with her little pack outside the Meade County Courthouse, gave Diamond a grateful smile, and rolled her shoulders, trying to release the knots of tension. A breeze kicked up, blowing their hair this way and that, and the day was clear and sunny and full of promise.
“I wouldn’t blame you girls if you wanted to pull the plug on this trip and come on home,” Linny said but narrowed her eyes as she glanced at Mama and her friends. The women seemed brighter and more jovial since their foray into lawlessness and brawling.
“We’re fine, honey. Appreciate you all coming all this way for us, but we had things under control,” Dottie said to Linny and smoothed her hair to make sure all her curls were in place.
Linny widened her eyes at Diamond, who hid her smile.
“This is all part of the freewheeling RV experience, just like they said in the brochure,” Ruby said with a carefree shrug.
“I’m not leaving. I’m having a ton of fun. Haven’t had so much excitement since . . . well, ever,” Dessie admitted, grinning. “Plus Perry’s flying out this afternoon and the boys are going to rent a car and tag along with us.”
Ruby raised a hand. “Before we leave Sturgis and hit the open road I have two requests. One: There’s a policeman in Sturgis named Tony who dances when he directs traffic.” Ruby rolled her hands Tina Turner–style to demonstrate. “And two: I heard Frank from American Pickers is here this week. He is just a cutie pie and I’m pretty sure he’s single. I’d like to real casually run into him.” She fished a tube of lipstick from her purse and expertly smoothed on a scarlet red coat without a mirror in sight.
Linny watched them and grinned. Hands over their mouths, Ruby and Dessie cackled over some joke while Dottie dimpled up at Mack, who was gallantly draping his blue blazer around her shoulders becau
se she said she was chilly. No one seemed traumatized. In fact, she and Diamond were decidedly the fifth and sixth wheels.
After they dropped Mack and the women back at the campground and hugged and kissed them all good-bye, Linny and Diamond motored back to drop off the rental car and fly home.
As they strode across the tarmac toward a smiling Jim, Linny bumped shoulders with Diamond. “I don’t know how I can thank you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Diamond said with a flip of her hand. “I had a blast.”
Soon they were settled in their leather seats and sipping miniature bottles of wine through straws: Diamond’s idea.
“We forgot to toast,” Linny said with a grin and held up her little bottle.
Diamond touched her minibottle to Linny’s and gave a wicked grin. “To solving mysteries and freeing hardened criminals.”
“And to smart women like you who save the day.” Linny gave her a grateful look and took a sip.
Diamond bent her straw and took a long swallow, looking out the window as the plane taxied toward the runway. “Maybe I don’t want to give up lawyerin’ to become a housewife and organic gardener.”
“What do you like most about practicing law?” Linny asked quietly. If she talked too fast or seemed too interested, Diamond would clam right up. Linny felt like she was sidling up to one of Jack’s easily spooked rescue dogs: moving slowly, not making eye contact, and talking low and quiet.
Diamond scowled and fiddled with the handles of her bag. “This sounds sappy, but I remembered today how much I like helping people.”
Linny paused for a moment. “That’s not sappy. That’s a fine thing to like.”
Staring out the window, Diamond blew out a sigh. “I’m not sure being a housewife or sitting in a tiny house watching vegetables grow is going to cut it for me. I want a simpler life, but I may go out of my mind.”
“True.” Linny pictured a barefooted Diamond in a gingham sundress, her blond hair in pigtails like Daisy Duke and a basket of zucchini on her arm. She shuddered inwardly. “You can refine your plan,” she said quietly.
Diamond gave a crooked smile and raised one shoulder. “I had one crazy idea. Even if Butch does propose I could still do retreats, maybe for attorneys thinking about career change or women going through life change or getting out of a marriage. One of my friends who quit practicing started a Save Your Marriage Boot Camp. Maybe I could house those folks. Maybe I could do getaways for people with autism.”
Linny nodded. Diamond’s nephew was on the autism spectrum, and because of him, she did fund-raising for autism advocacy groups.
Diamond tapped a long sparkly fingernail on her chin and looked thoughtful. “Maybe a retreat for the parents of kids with special needs. Now those folks could use a getaway.”
“Interesting ideas,” Linny said neutrally, trying to curb her enthusiasm.
“Hmmm,” Diamond said as she leaned her head back in the seat and shut her eyes.
Discussion was over. Her moment of realness had passed.
Linny thought about some lonely years when she’d been single and then a widow. She’d study Facebook posts from girlfriends from college: the ones who’d met their husbands junior year, married after graduation, had tow-headed kids, posted recipes for gluten-free lunchbox snacks, and pics of Disney cruises with their families. They looked harried but happy, and Linny had envied them.
But then came the miracle of Jack. Linny glanced at Diamond and crossed her fingers that things worked out for her and Butch. Her mouth turned up as she saw the swoopy eyeliner and the slightly wacky streak of glittering blue eye shadow, but she also saw the fine lines around her eyes. They all were getting older. She felt like patting her friend but knew Diamond would hate it if she did. Instead, Linny closed her own eyes and sent up a prayer for her friend to get her heart’s desire.
At the Worth County Regional Airport, Linny hugged Diamond good-bye and thanked her again. She stretched and stood up straighter. With a spring in her step, Linny walked to her car. Though tired from the trip and the drama of bailing her mama out of jail, she was proud that she and Diamond had managed to save the day.
Flipping on the air conditioner, Linny let down the windows to release the saunalike air in the car and called Jack. “Hey, you,” she said, happiness flooding in as she heard his voice. She’d called and texted updates to him, Kate, and Mary Catherine, but she couldn’t wait to fill him in on every detail of the trip. “I’m on my way home from the airport and all is well.”
“You did good, honey,” he said, but he sounded distracted.
Linny heard the sound of a baby wailing. “Why is Ivy at the house? I thought Jerry said he was going to take a few days off this week and be on full-time daddy duty.”
“He did. He and Kate are at home with Ivy,” Jack said calmly. “When Neal and I got home about an hour ago we found a laundry basket on the front porch.” He paused. “Lin, there was a baby in it.”
Who would drop off a baby? What if Jack and Neal had been delayed and the baby had gotten dehydrated or eaten by coyotes or . . . Her mind racing, Linny breathed deeply in and out and made herself drive slowly to the farm. Using signals on every turn she came to on the nearly deserted country road, she drove under the speed limit with her hands gripping tight to the steering wheel.
Holding her breath, she stepped into the living room and felt a lump form in her throat at the tender sight. Jack and Neal sat on the couch side by side watching an old Star Wars movie with the sound off. A white plastic laundry basket was wedged between them and an angelic-looking baby lay sleeping in a nest of clean towels. Jack’s hand was on the baby’s head and Neal lightly held the baby’s foot.
Linny smiled at the men. Jack’s eyes lit up, and even Neal looked relieved to see her. She leaned over to see the child. He or she had plump, rosy cheeks, a perfect nose, and a shock of fine dark brown hair. Linny stared, transfixed. Between precious Ivy and this beautiful child, she felt such a deep stirring of longing for a baby that she felt weak.
Watching her as if he read her thoughts, Jack quietly rose and nodded at Neal as if to say, You’re in charge. He took Linny’s hand and led her to the kitchen.
Linny hugged his neck and he held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. After a moment he let her go. She whispered, “Whose baby is it and why would they leave it on our doorstep?”
Jack turned up his hands, looking mystified. “No clue. There was no note or anything else to identify the parents.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, baffled.
“I was waiting for you to get home to help me come up with a game plan,” Jack admitted. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked rueful. “I called Ned and he ran to the store to pick up baby supplies.”
Linny blew out a sigh of relief. Ned, their farm manager, was the father of four little ones and would know exactly what she and Jack needed to tide them over.
Jack rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “We can use Ivy’s crib for tonight.”
But Linny couldn’t get past how the baby had arrived so mysteriously. “Do you think the baby was stolen or did a teenaged mother give it up or . . .” Linny trailed off. “Is it a boy or a girl?
“It’s a boy. Just what you need: another man in the house,” Jack said with a grin.
But Linny gazed at him searchingly. She’d heard the subtext. Jack was quietly thrilled to have another baby in the house. Maybe he wanted a baby more than he’d let on. Maybe he was being New Agey and supportive of her going back and forth on the baby question because he knew how much she’d had thrown at her over the past year. “Don’t get too attached, sweets,” she said softly. “He’s not our little guy.”
“I know.” A resigned look flitted across his face. “It’s just nice to be around so many babies lately.”
Linny tapped a finger to her mouth thoughtfully. “He looks older than Ivy.”
Jack pointed to the laptop on the counter. “I looked up the baby developmental milestones. He�
�s sleeping a lot. He can roll from his back to his stomach and kind of slide around on the floor like that. If he works at it, he’ll be able to sit up on his own soon. My guess is he’s around six or seven months old.” With an indulgent smile, Jack added, “He’s a smart little guy.”
“Aren’t we supposed to call the police?” Linny said, but she shuddered inwardly at the thought of the baby being taken away by Social Services.
“I called Mary Catherine for advice. She should be calling back soon,” Jack said. “She’ll tell us what our options are.”
Linny blew out a sigh of relief but was startled when she heard the clomping of heavy boots on the porch.
“It’s Ned,” Jack said knowingly and strode to the door to keep his farm manager from knocking and waking the baby. Linny just stood there, arms crossed, digesting the news.
Jack walked back toting three bulky white plastic bags and a curious expression on his face. He put down the bags and handed her a dirty white envelope with one edge gnawed off. “Ned found this in the driveway. Roy or one of the other dogs must have picked it up from beside the baby.”
Linny stared at the envelope punctured with doggie teeth marks and felt a sense of dread, knowing instinctively that this missive would answer their questions about the identity of the baby. If they knew who the child was, they’d have to give him back or give him up, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do either. “You open it,” she said in a thin voice and moved to stand beside him so she could read it.
His eyes met hers and he pulled out a note written in a loopy scrawl. It read:
I never wanted a baby, and now I can’t take care of him. My new boyfriend already has kids and doesn’t want any more. We are going away to start over. Lucas is a good boy, but he’s your problem now.
Kandice Lane
P.S. If you don’t already know, Buck is the baby daddy.
CHAPTER 12
Juggling Act
Linny gasped and leaned against the doorframe for support. She did some quick math. Buck died last August. He’d been having the affair with Kandi for a long while. If she was two months along when he passed, Lucas could very well be Buck’s baby. She put a hand to her mouth, the marvelous and terrifying weight of the news starting to sink in. “Good Lord,” she murmured and stared at Jack.