A Dove for Eddy

by Sherry Elliott

  Chapter 12

  Porter moved from the truck to Eddy’s living room couch, as if he were sleepwalking. Eddy snapped her fingers at the cat and told her to get off the couch. The cat looked up at her and meowed but did not budge. “Blasted cat never did listen to me,” she said. “Porter, looks like you’re going to have to share the couch with the cat.” She pulled the blanket up to his chin and dimmed the lights. “Sleep tight,” she whispered.

  “You are a good mother,” Joe said.

  “I never had any kids, and it’s too late for all of that now,” Eddy said, as they made their way to the kitchen. The refrigerator hummed, and the fluorescent light buzzed, as they sat in silence waiting for the teapot to boil.

  “Now I don’t mean to say that I know all the answers, Eddy, but who said you had to have children to be a mother?” Joe said, as he ran his finger over the rim of the cup. “It seems to me that Carol and her children reached out to you, because they trusted that you would help them.”

  “I keep the good tea up here,” Eddy said, as she reached up to retrieve the deluxe assortment from the spice cabinet. She belched as she stretched. “Oops . . . tarnation,” she exclaimed and shook her head in disgust.

  “As I was saying,” Joe said. “Just because a woman gives birth to a child does not make her a mother.”

  Eddy covered the teabags with hot water and then placed a saucer over each of their cups. “You have to let it steep, if you want a good cup of tea.” She pulled the sugar down from the cupboard. “I hope you don’t like cream in your tea, because I don’t keep any in the house, you know.” Eddy dished out the sugar wafers.

  “Yes, I know,” Joe said. “But, when I think of a mother, I think it is someone who protects and cares for others. Porter felt your motherly love for him, Eddy.” Joe took a bite of the crunchy wafer and washed it down with some tea.

  “You didn’t spike that tea with whiskey. Did you? I don’t allow any of that stuff in my house.”

  Joe snickered and shook his head. “Eddy, you’re something else.”

  The sound of the electric can opener brought the cat running into the kitchen. The cat rubbed up against Eddy’s leg and meowed. Eddy scooped out the bits of minced cat food into the cat’s pink glass bowl. “She thinks she’s too good to eat out of a regular bowl.” The cat circled around the bowl, smelled it, and then snuggled up to the bowl and nibbled at her food. “If that’s not the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. She has to smell it to make sure she likes it.” She clucked her tongue. “Fred spoiled her rotten.” Eddy lathered her hands with the antibiotic soap and then washed them thoroughly. She then inspected her hands while she patted them dry with a paper towel.

  Eddy turned her attention back on Joe. “Those wafers soften up a bit if you soak them in your tea for a second. Not too long or they’ll get all mushy. See, like this,” Eddy said, as she demonstrated the proper dunking technique.

  Joe sighed, “I don’t want to eat a mushy cookie. I may not have all my teeth, but the ones I have work just fine. You see what I’m saying. You’re trying to be my mother.” He laughed. “I had a good mother, God rest her soul. But if you’d like to help me, I don’t mind being fussed over for a change.”

  Eddy’s face burned crimson. “I was just trying to . . .” She lost her train of thought.

  “Like I was saying, there’s no rule that says a person can only have one mother, and Carol might need a little looking after right now too,” Joe said.

  The long dull ring of the phone interrupted the conversation, and Eddy almost tripped getting around the kitchen table to the kitchen counter to pick up the receiver. “Hello,” she said.

  “He’s sleeping . . . . Is she any better? . . . Would you mind if we took the boy to the zoo tomorrow? . . . Well. . . Okay then. . . Bye.”

  “Are we set?” Joe asked.

  “Yep . . .sure enough.” Eddy held her hair back and lit a cigarette on the stove’s gas burner.

  “Careful now, before you catch yourself on fire,” Joe said.

  “Hogwash, been doing it for years.” Eddy blew the smoke up toward the ceiling, and then swiped the tobacco leaves from her lips. “What do you say we leave about eight?” She returned to her seat and examined the expertly rolled stick as she rolled it between her thumb and finger.

  The grandfather clock struck ten. She wondered how many minutes of her life had been spent smoking. Far too many, she reasoned, and suddenly, the cigarette looked vile. She snubbed out the butt in the aluminum ashtray and pushed it toward the edge of the table.

  She watched Joe as he reset his pocket watch to conform to the grandfather clock. Odd, how she had never noticed how distinguished Joe looked with his salt and pepper hair and tanned skin. The deep lines around his eyes and forehead gave him the appearance of someone who was wise rather than old. He looked back at her, and she blushed.

  “Did you ever have any kids?” Eddy asked.

  “I had a boy once. He’d be fifty years old now if. . .”

  They heard a loud bang by the backdoor followed by the sound of glass shattering. The cat arched her back and hissed, then ran out of the kitchen. Eddy’s eyes bulged like a pop eye squeeze toy. “Help, Joe, it’s one of those robbers!” she yelled.

  “Shhh now,” Joe said as he held his hand up like a traffic cop. He reached over and turned off the light. Eddy screamed liked she was on fire. “Good Lord, woman, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” He flipped the light back on, trembling as if he had the palsy. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.”

  “What if I am,” she whispered. “Why are you turning off the light, anyway?”

  “So I can see what’s going on outside, that’s why,” he said. “Have you got a flashlight?”

  Eddy crouched down and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. “I know I got one in here someplace,” she whispered.

  The sound of a tin can rolling across the concrete was heard followed by muffled voices. Joe raised his cane at half-mast. “Those thugs will regret the day they darkened this door. Why I’ll,” he stammered.

  Eddy found the flashlight and fumbled with the switch before handing it to Joe.

  They heard laughter followed by the sound of feet pounding the pavement. Joe shined the flashlight out the window, and noticed a turned-over trashcan and several broken bottles. “Probably just teenagers out carousing and cut through the yard, that’s all.” He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, as if relieved. “It’ll take some cleaning up though, but that can wait till tomorrow.”

  “What if they come back?” Eddy asked.

  “I don’t think they’ll come back.” Joe turned the flashlight off and handed it back to Eddy. “But if you’d like me to stay the night,” Joe balanced himself on his cane. “I wouldn’t mind. . .”

  “Well, you’re about a day late and a dollar short!” Eddy crossed her hands over her chest. “Do I look like a floozy?” Joe stood frozen in place with his mouth agape. She turned her back to Joe. “And I thought you were a gentleman.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “I think there has been a misunderstanding.” He put on his ball cap and lowered his eyes. “Just trying to help, that’s all,” and then he walked out the back door.