by Shawna Seed
She didn’t like it this morning, though. Everything annoyed her – requests for refills, for strawberry jelly instead of grape, for more time to study the menu. It was good the cop who’d searched the house hadn’t come in. Sharlah would have enjoyed burning his toast.
By 2, the lunch crowd was thinning out, and Sharlah made another run at her manager. Joan lectured Sharlah about how she couldn’t expect special privileges just because her boyfriend was in jail, but then she gave in with a sigh and said Sharlah could clock out.
There was no time to run home and change. She was going to have to meet the Lowrys and Brian’s lawyer in her stupid orange waitress uniform.
Sharlah hustled out to her car and maneuvered in carefully, trying not to touch anything metal. Usually she’d open the door and wait a minute to let the heat escape, but today she didn’t have time.
Even though the humidity made her feel like she was breathing through a wet washcloth, Sharlah didn’t bother with the air-conditioner. The lawyer’s office was 10 minutes away, and the Colt’s creaky AC needed longer than that to get going.
The office was on the top floor of a two-story building a few blocks from the courthouse. Sharlah took the stairs two at a time; she arrived sweating and out of breath. If she hadn’t been late already, she would have found a bathroom and freshened up. She wondered which Brian’s mom would think was worse: being late or being sweaty.
The door was unlocked, but there wasn’t a secretary up front or anything. Brian’s dad said they’d made “special arrangements” to meet with the lawyer right away, which Sharlah supposed involved money. She’d never been in a lawyer’s office before, and she wasn’t sure what to do. She waited a couple seconds and then called out, “Hello?”
A man poked his head out of a doorway down the hall. He had long brown hair and was wearing a white shirt, a tie and blue jeans. He looked to Sharlah like a hippie who’d cleaned up his act. “Miss Webb? Come on back to the conference room.”
Brian’s family was sitting on one side of a big table. His mom, Renee, was in the middle, flanked by his dad and brother, Mitch and Kevin.
The guy with the tie held out a chair for her. “I’m George Ingersoll, Brian’s attorney.”
“Hi. Sorry I’m late,” Sharlah said. “I was working.”
Renee said something under her breath that Sharlah couldn’t make out.
Mitch put his hand on his wife’s arm. Kevin stared at the table like he hadn’t heard anything.
Sharlah sat and dropped her purse on the table. It made more noise than she expected in the quiet room, and she immediately felt like she’d done something rude. “Sorry,” she muttered. She moved her purse to the floor beneath her chair.
Ingersoll smiled at her, which made Sharlah feel better. “As I was just telling the Lowrys,” he began, “I had my first meeting with Brian this morning.”
“How is he?” Sharlah blurted out.
“He’s holding up,” the lawyer said. “I was just explaining what I call the rules of the road. You’re all here because Brian has asked me to speak with you. That’s my role here, to act in Brian’s interest.”
Renee shot Mitch a dirty look, and Sharlah wondered what that was about.
“When Brian’s released on bail, there will be aspects of his case he can’t discuss with you. You all need to understand that,” Ingersoll continued. He looked around the table at each of them.
Kevin didn’t look up. Renee just glared, her arms folded over her chest. Only Mitch acknowledged Ingersoll, nodding once in agreement.
“Sure,” Sharlah said when his eyes fell on her.
“So, what happens now is that there will be an arraignment Monday morning,” Ingersoll said. “The judge will set the bail, and then we’ll arrange bond and get Brian released.”
He paused for a moment. “Everybody with me so far?”
Sharlah thought it was strange that Brian’s parents weren’t saying anything. Did they already know all the details? Was she the only one in the dark?
She turned to the lawyer. “Is it OK to ask you about his case? A girl at work said Brian had a million dollars worth of pot in his truck. Is that true? She said other people are getting arrested, and some cops are in on it.”
Renee Lowry exhaled in one long, hostile puff and looked at her husband. “Do we really have to sit here and listen to every rumor the truck-stop waitresses are spreading?”
Just like that, Sharlah wished she hadn’t asked. It was always this way with Brian’s family. It took about 10 seconds for her to feel stupid and know she didn’t belong.
All she had to do was look at them. Even though it was a Saturday, Mitch and Kevin were dressed up in khakis and long-sleeved button-down shirts, white for Mitch and dark blue for Kevin. Despite the heat, Kevin had a T-shirt on underneath – Sharlah could see the white band of it beneath his open collar. Renee was wearing a crisp yellow blouse and white slacks. Her hair was styled just so, nothing out of place.
And here Sharlah was, in her polyester waitress uniform that smelled like sweat and bacon grease, her hair scraped into a ponytail. She’d let Missy talk her into a feathered haircut, which looked like hell unless she spent 20 minutes on it with a curling iron, and who had that kind of time at 4:30 in the morning? The shorter parts wouldn’t stay out of her face at work, and she had to bobby-pin them back.
Ingersoll held up a palm. “It’s fine, Mrs. Lowry.”
He turned his chair toward Sharlah. “The police say they found about 130 pounds of marijuana in Brian’s truck, concealed under a load of lumber,” Ingersoll said. “We can assume they are looking to arrest other people involved.”
“Are they sure Brian knew it was there? Because that doesn’t seem like Brian at all. It’s not like him to do something so…” Sharlah paused, searching for the right word.
“Stupid,” Renee Lowry supplied. “And it is exactly like Brian to do something stupid.”
Mitch opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.
Sharlah glanced at Kevin, hoping he’d defend his brother, but he just stared at the table.
The lawyer acted like Renee hadn’t said anything at all.
“Now, the one arrow we have in our quiver is that Brian wisely declined to answer questions when they arrested him,” Ingersoll said. “The police will be looking for help making cases against other people involved, so we’ve got something to bargain with.”
Sharlah liked him for sticking the word “wisely” in there. She hoped Renee noticed.
Kevin spoke for the first time. “Brian’s going to rat people out?”
“That’s an unfortunate way to put it,” Ingersoll said. “When I talked to Brian, he was not open to the idea of cooperating. But that attitude usually changes once the gravity of the situation sinks in. He’ll have to do what’s best for him.”
Sharlah glared at the Lowrys assembled across the table. Stupid? Rat? What was wrong with them? Didn’t they care about Brian? His mom, OK, that was to be expected. But Kevin? Brian would be crushed if he knew what Kevin said.
His family might not stick up for him, but Sharlah would. “Is there anything we can do for him right now? Is there anything he needs from home?”
“He can have a Bible, but that’s about it,” Ingersoll said.
“He wouldn’t really have any use for that,” Sharlah said.
Renee’s eyes blazed. “Are you saying my son’s not a Christian anymore?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sharlah said, trying to keep her voice even. “He just wouldn’t have any… I mean, what’s he going to do with it? It’s not like he can read it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Renee said, sitting up straighter.
“Yes, you do,” Sharlah said, a little surprised that she was talking back to Renee. “Brian can hardly read – don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“That’s not true!” Renee spit out.
“It is true,” Sharlah said, “and you know it.
You all know it.” She glanced around the table. “Kevin?”
Kevin said nothing, which Sharlah couldn’t believe. He was always the one who smoothed over things between Brian and his parents, and now he acted afraid to say anything at all.
She turned back to the lawyer. “He only got through high school because teachers passed him so he could play baseball and his friends helped him with homework.”
That, finally, prompted Kevin to look at her, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
It was Kevin, of course, who had done the most to help Brian, starting in elementary school. Brian was always in trouble over his grades, and Kevin basically did his homework for him. Brian told Sharlah once that Kevin’s help was the only thing that kept him from getting spanked every single night.
Ingersoll took a pen from behind his ear and made a note on a yellow pad. “That’s good to know,” he said. “If Brian’s functionally illiterate, that could help us.”
“My son is not illiterate!” Renee rounded on her husband. “Mitchell! Say something!”
“The man’s just thinking out loud, Renee, trying to do his job,” Mitch said.
“Brian’s not dumb,” Sharlah said. “He just can’t read much. That’s why he messed up at college, because he couldn’t keep up.”
Renee stared hard at Sharlah. “Brian failed at college because he’s lazy and undisciplined and always has been,” she said.
“Right, he’s not as good as Kevin,” Sharlah said, returning Renee’s glare. “I’m pretty sure he got the message. You’ve only been telling him that his whole life.”
Kevin slid lower in his seat, like he was embarrassed, and Sharlah thought he should be. She couldn’t believe Kevin wasn’t sticking up for his brother, even a little bit. She knew he thought their folks were hard-asses, too. She’d heard him say so to Brian.
“I won’t apologize for wanting Brian to set his standards higher,” Renee said. “His behavior might be acceptable in your world, but in our family…”
Sharlah was about to ask exactly what she meant by that, but the lawyer interrupted.
“I think we’re getting off track here,” Ingersoll said. “Now, about Brian’s bond...”
Mitch Lowry perked up. “How much do you think we’re looking at?”
“I can help,” Sharlah said. “I have $65 in savings.”
Renee rolled her eyes. “I’m not having this conversation with her in the room.”
Mitch put his hand on her arm. “Renee,” he said. He gave Sharlah an apologetic look.
“Our financial situation is private, Mitchell, and I will not discuss it with her here.”
Sharlah waited, not sure what to do. She glanced over at the lawyer.
“We can get into that in a few minutes,” Ingersoll said. “Arraignment is at 11 Monday morning at the county courthouse. Let’s meet in the second-floor hallway about 10:50. The hearing will take 10 or 15 minutes. Miss Webb, did you have other questions?”
Realizing she was being shown the door, Sharlah reached for her purse and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll have to see about getting off work.”
Ingersoll stood and opened the door for her.
Sharlah waited in the doorway for some kind of goodbye from Brian’s family, but none came. “OK. I guess I’ll see you guys on Monday if I can make it.”
Only Mitch met her eyes.
Sharlah paused in the reception area to take a deep breath. Seeing Brian’s parents even under normal circumstances freaked her out, and these were not normal circumstances.
She heard footsteps in the hall and turned to see Kevin heading toward her.
“I was hoping to catch you,” he said.
Sharlah crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Sharlah pointed toward the door. “I can find my own way, thanks.”
“Don’t be that way,” Kevin said.
Brian said sometimes she was too quick to take offense, and Sharlah knew he was right. But at that moment, no one could talk her out of being mad at the Lowrys.
“Be what way? Pissed off?”
“Come on, Sharlah.” Kevin glanced over his shoulder, like he was afraid Renee was right there, listening. He pushed past her and opened the door to the stairs.
Sharlah reluctantly followed him down to the street.
Kevin stopped on the sidewalk outside the office. “Look, I’m sorry. I know Mom was kind of hard on you back there, but…”
“Never mind what she said about me,” Sharlah said. “She said terrible things about Brian, and you just sat there! You know he’s not lazy! You know why he had so much trouble at school. But you didn’t say anything!”
Kevin held up both palms, warding her off. “You have to understand, she and Dad hardly slept last night…”
“You think I did? Anyway, it’s not like she needs a reason to pick on Brian – she does it all the time. You’re supposed to stick up for him, and you didn’t do anything! You know how much Brian looks up to you and how he counts on you!”
Kevin’s face crumpled, and Sharlah realized – with a little zing of satisfaction – that she’d wounded him.
“What do you expect me to do, Sharlah?”
“You have to help him!”
Kevin braced one palm against the building and stared down the street, considering Sharlah’s words.
“And how do you expect me to help him, exactly?”
“I don’t know!” Sharlah said, exasperated. “Talk to your folks. Make them understand Brian’s side. Get them to ease up.”
“I don’t know Brian’s side,” Kevin said. “Do you?”
He had her there. Sharlah’s anger drained away.
“No,” she said. “It doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”
“Look, you know I’ll do anything to help Brian,” Kevin said. “But this isn’t like breaking a lamp wrestling in the living room, you know? It’s not even like dropping out of college. I can’t talk his way out of this for him. This is… The thing is, I don’t know if this can be fixed.”
Back home after the meeting, Sharlah turned on the AC, stripped out of her uniform and took a long shower. For the first time since Brian’s arrest, she allowed herself to cry.
Normally, she thought crying was a waste of time. It never changed anything, and it gave her a headache.
But she hadn’t realized how hard it would be to face Brian’s folks without him. Sharlah wasn’t surprised Renee was mean, because she was always mean. But when Brian was around, he’d sneak her sympathetic looks or make a point of putting his arm around her. Without him, Renee Lowry was pretty hard to take.
After she cried, Sharlah reminded herself that a pity party was useless. She couldn’t just sit around and moan.
Saturday was laundry day, so she gathered up the dirty clothes and a stack of quarters. Brian would come home to clean clothes, at least.
Sharlah took along a book to help pass the time. It was the kind of novel she usually liked, with lots of romance and exotic places like France and New York, but she found herself just turning the pages until she got to the end, not really enjoying it.
She wished she’d brought her other book, the one the librarian had pushed her to try. But she’d left it at home and had nothing to keep her occupied but her thoughts.
Brian usually came to the Laundromat with her. Sometimes he brought his guitar and played while she read. Other times, they’d just talk.
He liked to tease her that their first date was at the Laundromat, although that wasn’t really true. They never actually had an official first date.
She’d been in town a few months that first night she ran into Brian doing his laundry. They’d been friends awhile, chatting at her work or running into each other at parties. Once, at a cookout, they talked for three hours. Sharlah thought for sure he was going to ask her out, but then he didn’t. She thought Brian was cute, but she’d also heard that he had a girlf
riend in school up at San Marcos.
Sharlah was feeling pretty down that night. She’d thought leaving her hometown would change her luck and make her life better, but it wasn’t really turning out that way. Her job was bad, and her living situation was worse.
She was still crashing with the girl from back home, and the roommate’s boyfriend was turning into a big problem. He was hanging around the apartment more, coming by when his girlfriend was at work and pretending like he thought she’d be there. He always managed to brush up against Sharlah when he squeezed by her in the hallway.
Sharlah had heard him try the door while she was in the shower. She knew the lock wasn’t much good, and if he caught her alone in the bathroom, she didn’t stand a chance.
Talking to her roommate went nowhere, which didn’t surprise Sharlah. She knew how these things went. The girl always got the blame.
Sharlah was trying to save up first month’s rent and a deposit for her own place, but she was a long way from having enough money. She’d already bought a pocketknife at the Army-Navy store and kept it with her all the time, even when she slept. She wasn’t sure what else to do.
Brian had brought his guitar to the Laundromat that night, and he was goofing around, taking requests. Sharlah asked for something by Jimmy Buffett, thinking he’d play “Margaritaville,” the one song that every guy at the beach with a guitar seemed to know. But he’d surprised her by playing an older ballad, “Come Monday.”
The lyrics – full of longing for someone – made Sharlah sad. Her whole life, she’d been leaving people behind or had been left behind herself, and no one had ever missed her like that.
Later, when the Laundromat was mostly empty and they were folding their clothes, Brian asked her what was wrong, and she told him the whole story about the roommate’s boyfriend.
Brian hadn’t interrupted her or acted like it was her fault. When she was done, he’d told her she could sleep on his couch for as long as she wanted. He said he wouldn’t try to bust in on her in the shower. He held up his hand and said, “I swear on a stack of Bibles,” which made her laugh.
She never went back to her friend’s place.