He smiled at her, nodding his head. ‘You’re right. Maybe you should go first.’
Dot got up and stood behind Lonnie’s chair. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t make any real difference in our lives,’ she said, ‘but it would show us another way of living, a new perspective.’
Nowell crossed his arms over his chest. ‘There are millions of people on Earth, all with varying perspectives.’
‘But people are the same more than they’re different,’ she said.
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Vivian objected.
‘You know how they talk about separating people by race,’ Dot said, ‘that it really doesn’t mean anything, at least not nearly as much as we make of it? Because when you get down to people’s genes, you know, there’s such a small amount of difference…’
‘…that it’s inconsequential,’ Nowell finished.
She nodded. ‘So when you think about human nature, about our feelings and what makes us tick, maybe there’s not much difference there either, you know, when you look at the whole range.’
Nowell slapped his leg. ‘So a greedy child who, say, won’t share his candy is basically the same as some tyrannical ruler who wipes out an entire population to feed his ego?’
Dot’s eyes blazed. ‘Okay, yes. Greed, fear, happiness. What if there’s a system that’s different, you know? A completely different type of life.’
‘That’s too philosophical for me after so much beer,’ Vivian said. She looked up at Dot, who remained standing behind Lonnie, her small hands on his shoulders. ‘Let’s hear about your whirlwind romance instead.’
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Dot said. ‘Lonnie came into the store where I was working.’
‘I was visiting Sal Brewer. Remember him, Nowell?’
‘The guy you worked with at Build Rite?’
‘Yea. Sal moved out west a few years ago and invited me to come hang out for a while, check out the coast.’
‘They came in to buy beer,’ Dot said, ‘and I was having a really bad day.’
Lonnie peered up at her. ‘She had just moved up there, and she hated her job.’
‘A convenience store. It was all I’d been able to get.’
‘So I started teasing her a little. She told me off. Later, I came back and we got to talking. She finally agreed to go out with me.’
‘And I quit my job, and we went up to the mountains, lived like real naturalists, you know?’
‘You should have seen it up there,’ Lonnie said. ‘The trees, the sky at night. We camped near a little creek, filled with fish. It’s like you have the whole world to yourself.’
‘It was beautiful,’ Dot agreed.
‘I asked her to marry me,’ Lonnie said. ‘I told her I wanted to live around here, though.’
‘And I didn’t mind. There wasn’t anything keeping me there.’
‘We’re glad to have you in the family,’ Nowell said. ‘I was afraid that nobody would ever marry Lonnie.’
‘Very funny, Number One.’
‘I’ve been bailing him out of trouble my whole life.’
‘Now…’ Lonnie started.
‘Remember that time you and your friends had to go back down Birch Street, apologizing to everyone on the block?’
‘Why?’ Dot asked.
‘They drove down the street and knocked over all the mailboxes with a baseball bat,’ Vivian explained. ‘Didn’t you have to try to put them back up?’
‘We tried,’ Lonnie said. A wide grin pushed his cheeks into two round masses. ‘But some of the poles were busted, just splintered like firewood.’
‘I can’t imagine you and your rough friends knocking on all those doors and telling people that you broke their mailboxes.’ Nowell shook his head.
‘Why would you do something like that?’ Dot asked.
Lonnie looked up at her. ‘We were just blowing off steam.’
‘But why knock down mailboxes? Did you have something against the Post Office?’
‘It was just for fun,’ Vivian said. ‘Weren’t you ever reckless, out of control?’
Dot looked from Lonnie to Vivian. ‘How is being out of control fun?’
‘Oh, forget it, honey,’ Lonnie said. ‘We were just kids.’
Vivian carried some dishes inside and Dot followed. Dot sat down at the table. ‘I’m completely exhausted, even with the nap.’
‘Long day,’ Vivian said. ‘You were at Beverly’s pretty early this morning. Is this the first time you met her?’
‘Yes. She was very nice. Surprised to see us so early, you know, but Lonnie told me she wouldn’t mind.’
Vivian stretched her neck, yawning. ‘I think we’re all used to Lonnie’s habits by now.’
‘I guess you must be.’ Dot stood up. ‘I think I’ll take a hot shower and go to bed. Any big plans for tomorrow?’
‘Not really. I need to drive into town for a few things, if you’d like to come along.’
‘What time?’
‘Not early. Whenever we get up and around.’
‘Yes, I want to go.’ She went to the screen door. ‘Lonnie, I’m turning in.’
‘Be there soon,’ he told her.
Dot paused in the hall. She looked small in the dark space. ‘Thanks, Vivian,’ she said. ‘For everything.’
Vivian opened the screen door and went outside. Lonnie reclined in the swing, one leg propped up on the bench and the other extended out. Nowell sat on the banister opposite him, leaning against the narrow column.
The breeze, cool now, spread over Vivian’s skin like balm.
Nowell was saying, ‘So this Mr McDermott, the lawyer, told me the claim is unsubstantiated. Mom’s protected by the first document.’
‘That’s good,’ Lonnie said. ‘These big businesses, these firms, they’ve always got people looking for loopholes to make them money. So what if it’s a widow, right? Anything for a buck.’
‘At first, I was angry with Dad’s former partner,’ Nowell said, ‘but talking to the lawyer, I realized it’s more complicated. There’s a board of directors now, and Mr Ward is actually trying to get everything settled.’
‘Sure he is. He waits until Dad dies then he settles things. Just takes everything he can.’
‘It’s not so simple. There isn’t always a bad guy or an easy solution.’
‘I don’t see why not. Give Mom the money; that’s an easy solution. Dad’s the one who built that company from the ground, not Mr Ward. He’s been benefiting from Dad’s hard work for years.’
Nowell sighed. ‘Sometimes talking to you about things is as bad as talking to Mom. You can’t be rational.’
‘And maybe you’re too rational.’ Lonnie sat up. ‘Doesn’t this whole thing piss you off?’
‘Being pissed off doesn’t solve anything. It never has.’
‘I thought everything was settled,’ Vivian said.
Nowell nodded. ‘Mom’s lawyer is meeting with the company’s lawyer early next week, and he’s going to take care of it.’
The headlights of a lone car appeared over the hill towards town. As it passed on the empty road, they listened to the rising then falling hum of the engine and the faint melody of music from the car’s radio.
‘Oh, Viv,’ Nowell said. ‘Lonnie and I are going fishing tomorrow, with a few of those guys from the road crew.’
‘The road crew?’ she said.
‘I met them when I was here before,’ Lonnie said, ‘and we ran into them at the store. Four-thirty, Number One.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ Nowell groaned.
‘You’re going to take a day off?’ Vivian asked Nowell.
‘Just the morning. We should be back by two o’clock.’
‘You must be at a good stopping point,’ she said.
He ignored the tinge of sarcasm in her voice. ‘Almost.’
‘I think I’ll go to bed, too,’ Vivian said. ‘Suddenly, I’m very tired.’
‘Okay, Viv. I’ll be in soon.’
‘Dot’s
going with me into town,’ Vivian told Lonnie.
‘I’ll give her some cash,’ Lonnie said. Remember, we’re paying for half of everything while we’re here.’
‘You don’t have to…’ Nowell started.
‘Oh, come on,’ Lonnie interrupted. ‘You’re not exactly rolling in it. We’re not normal guests, we’re family.’
Vivian went into the living room and grabbed the pages that Nowell had given her to read while he was gone. Her face was burning. Weeks of shutting himself in that room, practically ignoring her, she thought. His baby brother arrives and now it’s a big party. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and by the time she had crawled into bed with the pages from his book, she had talked herself out of being angry. Nowell had been busy working very hard. He deserved a break, she knew. She shut their bedroom door and skimmed through the first chapter, which she had already read. The second began:
He was a young man, older than her but inexperienced still in many ways. And she was much older than her years in ways that mattered. For her, life was an easy thing, no grand design, no complications, no detours. She worked during the day at a regular job, cooked sometimes in the evenings and sometimes went out with friends.
There were things that she had forgotten, either by effort or by chance, and these dark moments of longing from the past cropped up then sunk again into the oblivion of memory and time. Seeing the man caused one of these moments, a memory or re-memory taking shape but distorted and uncertain, leaving her only with a feeling of controlled anger.
Vivian yawned, then pushed herself to a more upright position. She scanned the remaining paragraphs. The story was beginning to form, despite these distracting sections, and it centered around the girl, the man who had sparked her memory, and the girl’s roommate, a friendly middle-aged woman who mothered her. Vivian’s eyelids were heavy, and the room began to contract around her. At her side, the glare from the lighthouse lamp softened and dimmed.
Suddenly, the door opened with a popping sound, and Vivian opened her eyes.
‘What do you have there?’ Nowell asked.
She began to gather the pages into a pile. ‘I was looking over the writing that you gave me. I wanted to read it again before I said anything.’
‘So?’
‘It’s great,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to read the rest.’
‘You didn’t think it was difficult to follow, the way I told the story from her point of view?’
Vivian spoke cautiously. ‘I had questions as I went along, but it seemed like they would be answered as she discovered things.’
Nowell unfastened his shorts. ‘But didn’t you think that her world was a confusing vantage point? Her thinking is so subjective, so pointed.’
‘I would think that the readers can be objective.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ He nodded slowly a few times, contemplating.
She asked, ‘Did you and Lonnie finish your argument?’
‘It wasn’t really an argument. He starts with his conspiracy theories and his aliens and makes all these generalized, ridiculous statements that add up to nothing. Sometimes it’s all I can do not to reach over and shake him.’
‘A lot of people believe in alien abductions.’
Nowell climbed into bed. ‘I don’t want to know about it.’
Vivian gave him the extra pillow. ‘You were right. Dot is very sweet.’
‘Yeah, I like her. I hope Lonnie doesn’t screw it up.’
‘That’s not nice.’
‘You don’t know him like I do, Viv. He sabotages his life on purpose, especially good things that come along. Like when we were in school. His grades were average mostly, but then he’d get a good grade on a project or a report, something that interested him. Almost like it was an accident. Then before you knew it, he’d be in trouble or getting kicked out of class again for goofing off. By the time he reached high school, I think he’d finally fallen behind.’
‘He always talks about school like it wasn’t very important to him.’
‘What about that great job he had a couple of years ago? Was that important? He got fired for not showing up. All he had to do was make a simple phone call. What about that apartment that my aunt cosigned for him to get, in the building her friend owned? Remember?’
She nodded.
‘He had the money for the rent, Viv, I know he did. Like I said, he’s always shooting himself in the foot. I just don’t understand him.’
‘Maybe he’s grown up since then.’
‘I hope so.’ He reached over and turned off the lamp on his nightstand.
They lay for a few moments in the dark, then Nowell shifted his position and soon after that, Vivian listened as his breathing slowed.
Silently, she got out of bed, pulled on her shorts and stepped into the hallway. The door to the spare room was closed and no light came from underneath. She followed the glow from the kitchen, running her fingers along the wall. When she turned the corner, she was startled to see Lonnie sitting at the kitchen table.
‘You’re still up?’ she said.
He looked at her. ‘What? Oh, yeah.’
‘I just need some water.’ She went to get a glass from the cupboard.
‘Dot likes you,’ Lonnie said.
Vivian shut the water off and turned around. ‘I like her too.’
‘That’s good. The women in a family should get along, don’t you think?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Dot’s a great girl. I want things to be easier for her now.’
‘We’re really happy for you, Lonnie. Really.’
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. ‘This is a great house. We never came here much when my grandma was alive. I don’t know why.’
‘It’s a long drive.’
‘No, it’s not. My dad didn’t want to come. I never understood it.’
It was cold in the kitchen, and Vivian crossed her arms. ‘He kept busy with work, didn’t he?’
‘She was our grandma and we hardly knew her.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t come here much?’
Lonnie shook his head. ‘I remember being here maybe three times. One time he yelled at me after I stayed out all day. There was a boy who lived around here, or he was visiting his grandparents or something. We didn’t realize how long we were gone until the sun started to go down.’
‘Did you get lost?’
‘No. Who told you that?’
‘I’m just asking. I’ve been back there a couple of times. You wouldn’t think you could get lost so easily, but once you’re beyond the trees it gets confusing.’
‘Not for me.’
Vivian wondered which story was true, Lonnie’s or Nowell’s.
Lonnie finished his beer, tilted it upright and let the last foamy drops fall into his mouth. He brought the bottle towards Vivian, waited while she opened the cabinet underneath the sink, and then he dropped it into the plastic trash container underneath. When he stood up, he stayed close to her. ‘Listen, Vivian, I haven’t seen you since that weekend at my mom’s.’
‘Lonnie, it’s not…’
‘And I know you were mad at me then.’ Vivian could smell him, the leathery, saltiness of his skin, the beer on his breath.
‘But I’m not anymore. Forget it, Lonnie, really.’ She stepped around him.
He chuckled. ‘I don’t really remember what happened.’
Of course you don’t, she thought. ‘It was nothing,’ she said. ‘I’m going back to bed. Nowell’s probably wondering where I am.’ She closed the front door, locked the dead bolt.
‘Vivian?’
‘What?’
He ran his hand over his short, stubbly hair, and it made a scratchy sound. ‘I always thought you were great, I just wanted to tell you that.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, her face flushing. ‘Goodnight, Lonnie.’ As she walked down the dark hallway, Vivian realized that having Lonnie around could get very irritating, especial
ly if he drank every night. She didn’t like the edge in his voice, his directness, his lack of respect for personal space.
As quietly as she could, she opened the door to their bedroom and exhaled with relief when Nowell remained motionless on the bed. She let her shorts fall around her ankles and slowly got into bed.
16
In the morning, Vivian woke with a headache and an uneasy feeling. She wondered if it would be awkward to see Lonnie after their exchange. Then she remembered that Nowell and Lonnie had left early for fishing. From a corner of her mind, a hazy image surfaced, Nowell leaning over to kiss her forehead.
She got up and padded on bare feet to the kitchen. The house was already warm, the sun bright in the golden room. The screen door suddenly opened and Dot came in. Her hair was more red than blonde in the morning light, and she had pulled it back into a ponytail that teased the nape of her neck.
‘That truck is huge!’ she said. ‘I was curious, you know, so I borrowed your key and climbed inside. How in the world do you drive it?’
‘With a cushion,’ Vivian said.
Dot laughed. ‘It’s like that movie where the woman shrunk and everything was huge, a ten-foot toothbrush and spoon.’
Vivian walked to the sink and set down her glass from the night before. ‘Once I’m in, I like being up so high.’
‘There are some things men shouldn’t shop for alone, you know?’
‘Furniture,’ Vivian said.
‘Clothes,’ Dot added.
‘Groceries,’ she said. ‘Before I got here, Nowell bought everything from the deli. No regard for a budget.’
Dot hung the truck keys on the hook by the door. ‘Lonnie does most of our shopping and cooking.’
‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘He likes to cook. Does it by instinct, without recipes. I can cook anything with clear instructions on the box, but Lonnie, he’s the pinch-of-this, drop-of-this type. It’s a luxury for men, you know? They never feel like they have to cook. More of a hobby. I guarantee you, if Lonnie knew he had to make dinner every night, he’d get tired of it real soon.’
‘Nowell told me about a pie that he made.’
‘Fruit cobbler, in a clay cooking bowl. It’s really good.’
The Qualities of Wood Page 13