“Breathing upsets him,” Jasper replied. “He’s been angry at me for the last year.”
“Because he thinks it’s your fault what happened to him?”
“He’s never quite forgiven me for going to law school,” Jasper said. “I was supposed to come home after I graduated from college. I was supposed to take over the farm. Get married. Have a family. Be just like him.”
Addie could see that he was gripping the door handle so tightly that his knuckles were white. She wanted to grab his hand and tell him he wasn’t alone—that he wasn’t the only one who felt guilty and that maybe they were both being too hard on themselves. Instead she kept her hands planted firmly at her sides and said, “Well, you’re here now. That’s got to count for something.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jasper shook his head. “Let’s get inside and see if Felix has destroyed my house.”
“If he’s eaten your couch, just don’t forget that it was your idea to leave him alone,” Addie replied.
“You better hope he held up his end of the bargain.” A grin began to spill across Jasper’s face. “Otherwise, you’re going to owe me a lot more than a basket of fried pies.”
CHAPTER 16
EUNICE HAD ONCE HAD MONEY, AS MANY RIVER TOWNS IN THE South had. The houses in the oldest part of Eunice—the downtown area—were a reminder of a long-lost splendor. Many of the houses had fallen into disrepair; their owners seemingly evaporated into thin air, vanished during a summer heat wave. Jagged windows, rotting doors, roofs that were caving in, and squatters that meandered in and out could be found on any one of the cobblestone streets. Even historic buildings where bullets from the Civil War, the only war that really mattered in the Delta, were still lodged into the walls had been forgotten. The years had changed the beauty that Addie remembered from her childhood to something ugly. Something angry.
Addie wondered if the person responsible for hurting Felix lived in one of the decrepit houses that they often passed during their daily walks. There were dogs running loose everywhere. Some were chained to trees in unruly yards. They barked and lunged and whined. In their eyes was a longing for a life different from the one they had been allotted.
It broke Addie’s heart.
She supposed she could have listened to Jasper and the others when they told her not to venture too close to these houses—not to venture too close to the levee. But her odd curiosity was something she couldn’t ignore, and very often Addie’s walks with Felix led them to the end of one of those cobblestone streets.
Addie tried to amble down the street, but Felix wasn’t having it. The evening was surprisingly cool, and his lanky puppy legs beat against the cracked pavement. Felix gave the leash a tug, and Addie broke into a sluggish jog. Addie’s mind wandered back to Jasper and the morning after the storm. He’d been wearing shorts and running shoes. Maybe she could convince him to take Felix jogging once in a while.
Addie didn’t notice the two men sitting in lawn chairs in the front yard of one of the houses until she was upon them.
“That’s an interesting-looking dog you’ve got there,” said one of the men. It was the same man from the fair. Addie wouldn’t soon forget his complexion.
“Thanks.” Addie recognized the second man immediately. It was Redd Jones.
Redd stood up, crushing a beer can beneath his muddy boot. “He missin’ an ear?”
“He is,” Addie replied. Felix tucked his lips up under his gums and flashed his teeth. He let out a low, guttural growl. “You better not come any closer.”
“He ain’t gonna hurt me.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Redd took a long, slow drag from the cigarette between his thick fingers. “Where’d you get him?”
“Found him.”
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
Addie tightened her grip on Felix’s leash. She didn’t want to tell him anything. “I don’t remember right off hand.”
The other man opened up the cooler between the lawn chairs and pulled out a beer. “You want one?”
“No, thanks,” she replied. “I need to be getting home.”
Redd stepped onto the sidewalk. “I saw you out with Jasper Floyd a while back. You ain’t from around here, are ya?”
Addie took a step back onto the street. The sounds coming from Felix’s throat became louder. “I’m from Chicago.”
“A Yankee.”
“Hardly.” Addie snorted.
“Leave it to Jasper to buy himself a Yankee girl,” Redd said. “Guess the women here ain’t good enough for such a fine gentleman.” He flicked his cigarette. Ashes floated down onto Felix’s nose.
“Now, come on,” the other man said. “Ain’t no reason to talk like that to her.”
“Shut up, Frank.”
Disgust welled up inside of Addie and pieces of it spilled out onto her face. “Jasper didn’t buy me.”
“Jasper buys whatever hard work won’t get him,” Redd replied. He squinted one of his eyes closed. “Which is the same thing as sayin’ Jasper buys everything. And everyone.”
“Come on back now, Redd,” Frank said. “Sit down and have a drink. We’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”
“I said, shut up.”
“Does he always talk to you like that?” Addie asked Frank. She knew she shouldn’t be antagonizing Redd. She knew it, and yet she couldn’t help herself. She realized that he might be drunk, and the thought made her even more uncomfortable than she already was.
Frank didn’t respond. He pretended to concentrate on the beer can in his hands. When he looked up, Addie smiled at him. He gave her a shy smile in return.
“Ain’t nothin’ for sale around these parts.” Redd took a step back, blocking Addie’s view of Frank. His heel caught on the curb and he stumbled. “You better get on, now.”
Without another word, she started back down the street, pulling Felix along after her. He continued to growl long after they were home, standing at the front door for hours with his head cocked, his good ear listening, listening to the summertime concert of crickets and bullfrogs and—it seemed to Addie—a voice in the air that only he could hear.
CHAPTER 17
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE SWEET TEA IN CHICAGO?” Bobby stared at Addie.
“Well, we have it. You can make it or buy it in a jug at the store,” Addie replied. “But most of the time you can’t order it in a restaurant.”
“A person can’t order tea in a restaurant?”
“You can order it. But it won’t come sweetened.” Addie sighed. “You’d have to use the sugar packets at the table.”
“Well, that’s just un-American,” Bobby muttered.
“Oh my God. What is it with you people and sweet tea?”
“You people?”
“No, no. I’m not getting into this again.” Addie held her hands up. “I’m sorry about the sweet tea, but I did make cookies.”
“Really?” Wanda looked up at Addie, surprised.
“I still had a bunch of stuff left over from the pies.” Addie shrugged. “There was a recipe for sugar cookies in the recipe box that I thought I could get through without screwing up.”
“Well, look at you!”
“It was really easy,” Addie confessed. “I’m still too scared to try anything else.”
Bobby and Wanda reached for the cookies. They chewed for a few agonizing seconds before Wanda said, “These aren’t bad.” She reached for another. “Pretty good, actually.”
“Hand me the hammer, will ya?” Bobby grinned at her, his mouth still full.
Addie pawed through Bobby’s huge rolling tool case. “Hey, Wanda? Do you have the hammer?”
“Yep. Hang on.” Wanda placed a final nail into a new wooden floorboard. Felix howled from inside Addie’s bedroom each time he heard the hammer hit a nail. He’d been so terrified when the tools came out, he’d hidden under the bed and not come out.
“I really appreciate you all coming over to help me with this,
” Addie said. “All this house repair stuff is pretty overwhelming.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Wanda handed the hammer over to Bobby. “We love it, don’t we, big brother?”
“Yes ma’am,” Bobby replied. “I’d work construction for a living if it paid the bills.”
“Besides,” Wanda continued, “Bryar’s in hog heaven sitting in front of your TV. You have more weather channels than we do.”
“I’ll need to come back sometime soon to treat this wood,” Bobby said, standing up. “That’s part of the reason some of these old boards is rotten. Whoever done it didn’t treat it.”
“I can treat it,” Addie replied. “It’s putting the boards in that I can’t do.”
“What do you know about treatin’ wood?”
“A little.” Addie shrugged. “I refinished that table in there in the kitchen.”
“Really?” Bobby asked.
“And the chairs.”
“I’m impressed, Miss Addie.”
“You should see the things Bobby’s made over the years,” Wanda bragged as the three of them shuffled inside. “Last summer he made Bryar a wooden pedal car.”
“That’s awesome!” Addie said. “So is it mostly woodworking that you do?”
“I do a little bit of everything.” Bobby’s ruddy cheeks flushed an even deeper red. “I don’t create nothin’ sittin’ in a seat all day and night on the truck. When I’m home, it’s how I unwind.”
“That makes sense,” Addie replied.
“You know the chair attached to the bathtub in the bathroom?” Bobby jerked his thumb toward the back of the house.
Addie nodded and replied, “Yeah, I had to take it down when I moved in because it took up the whole tub.”
“Well, toward the end Miss Tilda couldn’t get around real well. She didn’t want nobody to come in and help her,” Bobby said. “So I put in that chair and attached it with a pulley system so that she could sit down on the chair from outside the tub and then pull herself over the lip of the tub. That way she didn’t need her legs to lift her over.”
“That was nice of you.”
“It was easy. I miss your aunt. She was a good woman. Always gave me work when I needed it.”
“Speaking of work,” Wanda said, “did you see that big HELP WANTED sign at the corner of town? Looks like the Floyds are hiring people to get them all set up for the Fourth of July celebration this year.”
“I didn’t even know they was havin’ it,” Bobby replied. “Ain’t been to one of their shindigs in years.”
“We must’ve been kids,” Wanda agreed. “Back when we were all still friends.”
“Couldn’t pay me to go now.”
“I’m sure someone could pay you.”
Bobby stifled a laugh and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “You’re probably right. But it ain’t my first choice.”
“I think I’m going to go,” Addie spoke up. “It sounds like fun.”
“I’d actually been thinking about taking Bryar,” Wanda replied.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bobby grumbled.
“You should come with us.” Addie nudged Bobby.
“I’d rather eat bark.”
“You’d rather what?”
“I’d rather eat bark,” Bobby said again. “I’d rather eat the bark off a damp, old, rotting tree than spend five minutes anywhere near the Floyd farm.”
“Jasper’s not the ogre you think he is.”
“But his daddy is, ain’t he?”
Addie felt her face flush. Bobby was right—why would anyone want to spend time with Jack Floyd, especially if they weren’t being paid?
“Don’t be that way, Bobby,” Wanda continued. “There’s no reason to hold a grudge against Jasper for something he didn’t even do to you.”
“What—do you have the hots for Jasper, too?” Bobby asked. “I mean, everybody knows about Adelaide, but you, too?”
“Everybody knows what?” Addie stopped what she was doing to stare at Bobby. “Everybody knows what about me?”
“I don’t think it would hurt to show the Floyds some kindness,” Wanda said to her brother. “Wouldn’t hurt you a bit.”
“Who needs kindness when ya got money?”
“Come on, Bobby.”
“Jasper Floyd is a bastard,” Bobby said, losing patience. “Everybody knows it . . . except you two, apparently.”
“What does everybody know about me?” Addie repeated.
Wanda ignored her. “I owe him everything, Bobby. Everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Who do you think helped me get custody of Bryar?” Wanda replied. “Who do you think helped make sure that his daddy’s family only got supervised visitation? Who do you think made sure the charges against Bryar’s daddy stuck? Sure wasn’t you. Sure wasn’t Redd Jones. You don’t know anything about the kind of person that he is.”
“Of course I didn’t know,” Bobby said. He rubbed his thumb and index finger across his forehead. “You never told me none of that.”
“Jasper didn’t want me tellin’ no one,” Wanda replied. “Said the last thing he wanted was for everyone to know. I’m not asking that you like him, but don’t you dare talk about him like you know anything just because Redd Jones doesn’t have the sense God gave him to come in out of the rain.”
“Damn it, I wish you’d told me.”
“It wouldn’t have been hard to figure out if you’d been payin’ attention.”
Bobby sighed. “I know you think you got it all figured out, but I could help you sometimes,” he said to Wanda. “I ain’t book smart, but I got my talents.”
Addie’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Bobby, could you help me with something?”
“I thought that’s what I was doin’.”
“Well, could you help me with something else?”
“Sure.” He followed Addie out the kitchen door and toward the shed. “What happened to your door?”
“It’s a long story,” Addie said. “But what I need help with is inside.”
“Lord, it’s hot in here.” Bobby swatted at the dust.
Addie pointed to the back of the shed to an object covered by a sheet and propped up on several boxes. “See that back there?”
“The sheet?”
“There’s a porch swing underneath it.”
Bobby climbed up on a stack of boxes and pulled back the sheet. “This what you’re wantin’?”
Addie nodded. “I can’t carry it by myself.”
“Where do you want it?” Bobby hoisted the swing off the boxes.
“The front porch, if you can.” Addie grabbed one end.
“I wouldn’t hang that up with those rusty chains,” Bobby said once they had the swing on the porch. “Don’t look safe.”
“I won’t,” Addie replied. “I don’t even know if I’m going to hang it up at all.”
“Well, why not?” Wanda wanted to know. “A porch ain’t a porch without a swing.”
“We can hang it up, no problem,” Bobby said. “They got chains down at Linstrom’s. I can run down and get ya a couple.”
“That would be great.”
“I ain’t got a lot of cash right now to buy ’em . . .” Bobby trailed off. His face was crimson.
“If you’ll hang the swing for me, I’ll buy the chains,” Addie replied.
“I can stay here and keep workin’ if y’all want to go on ahead,” Wanda broke in.
Bobby slung a beefy arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “Let’s get this floor finished, and then we’ll head on out. And you”—he pointed at Adelaide—“I hope you’ve got some sugar left after those cookies. We’re makin’ sweet tea tonight.”
CHAPTER 18
ADDIE SAT IN THE CAB OF BOBBY’S TRUCK. SHE WASN’T SURE what to say to him without Wanda as a buffer. She was grateful he’d offered to hang up the swing, but now she wished that she’d put him off for a couple of days.
“Hey,” Bobby said, breaking the sil
ence. “I got some tools at my place that would make it easier to hang that swing up. Care if we run by there real quick?”
When Bobby turned onto the familiar cobblestone street, Addie realized where they were going. The truck came to a stop in front of Redd Jones’s house. Addie remembered that Bobby had mentioned living with him the first night they met. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll just sit here if that’s all right.”
“Come on in,” Bobby urged. “You ain’t got to sit outside in this heat.”
Addie followed him up the crumbling steps. The grass was as high as her knees, and it beat against her bare skin as she walked. When she leaned down to scratch at her legs, she could see through the missing slats in the backyard fence. She veered away from Bobby to get a better look.
“You coming?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Addie could see nothing but dirt.
The inside of the house was sparse. There wasn’t even a couch in the living room—just the two lawn chairs that had been in the front yard the day Addie had run into Redd and Frank. There was a huge television hanging on the wall, and a mattress and several ashtrays full of cigarette butts on the floor. Addie and Bobby were alone in the house.
“Make yourself at home,” Bobby said. “I’ll be right back.”
Addie wandered through the massive expanse of the downstairs. Almost every room looked the same—a mattress on the floor surrounded by ashtrays. Window units sagged in every room, dripping water onto the wooden floors. Dirty dishes overflowed in the kitchen. And there was a smell, a distinct smell that Addie couldn’t quite put her finger on. The house, at one time, must have been beautiful. She wondered what the original owners would think if they could see it now.
The last room that Addie entered was different from all the rest. It was fully furnished and clean. There was a four-poster bed and another huge television set on the wall. The room didn’t match the rest, and Addie knew instantly that this room belonged to Redd. She looked around the hallway to make sure that she was still alone before she moved farther into the room. The first drawer on the nightstand was halfway open, and Addie couldn’t resist going over to peek inside. There was a gun sitting atop a stack of papers, a .38-caliber handgun, but it was different from any that she had seen before. An intricate design had been carved into the barrel and stock—roses, it looked like to Addie. It was beautiful. She didn’t know much about weaponry, but she knew enough to know that this gun was special. It wasn’t the kind of gun that a person used every day.
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