I reached for another plant and stuck the shovel in the soil again, but I hit something solid. A piece of metal? I put the shovel aside and began to dig with my gloved fingers. Yes, it was a metal container! Digging faster now, I plucked the container out of the ground and brushed off the soil. It was a vintage recipe box, a metal one with litho artwork. I knew this box. Even though the edges had damage and some of the paint was missing, I could clearly see the lobster on the front and the festive salad bowl image on the top. This box had been in the Belle family’s kitchen!
I removed my gloves and examined the outside of the box. Yes, this was Ann Marie Belle’s—or more to the truth, Harper Belle’s—recipe box. Harper had done all the cooking for the family when the girls where young.
When I opened the box, I expected to find a bunch of faded recipe cards and maybe some newspaper cutouts of all the recipes the girls wanted to try, but that’s not what I saw. There were no recipes in here, just a collection of trinkets. Some buttons, like the kind you put on a jacket or a backpack. There was a broken hair clip, an old-fashioned barrette with a bird on it and a sparkling gold bracelet with three charms on it. Each charm was a different musical note symbol. It was a stunning find. I felt a cold chill pass over me as if clouds were gathering above me or someone was walking up on me. I shielded my eyes with my hand and glanced over my shoulder, but I didn’t see a soul. And there were no clouds in the sky. I set the box aside and quickly finished my planting job. All the joy from my surprise had vanished. I was focused on the box now and how it got here. Who would hide this recipe box in the yard? During the renovation, we found a few hidey holes in the house, but I didn’t think to look in the yard. Could the answer to Loxley’s problem be inside this box?
Suddenly, fat raindrops began to fall on me. Where had that cloud come from? Luckily, the planting was done. The shack was beautifully decorated with purple and red flowers, and I felt good about my work here. I put all my tools in the wheelbarrow along with the metal recipe box and began the long walk home. By the time I reached the back porch with the box, I was drenched. I didn’t care. Taking off my shoes and hat, I went into the kitchen to get a better look at my surprising find. I wanted to examine all the items in the box; there were quite a few things to look at besides what I’d already seen. I washed my hands and put a towel on the breakfast nook chair. No sense in getting the whole place wet.
Before I could open the box, I heard a woman scream. A long, agonizing scream that shook me to my bones. I jumped out of the chair like a cat on a hot tin roof.
The scream came from upstairs.
Chapter Six—Loxley
Harper and Addison were both home from the hospital, Addison with a new baby. She wouldn’t let anyone hold her, which suited me fine since I wasn’t skilled at caring for infants. Addison’s older children, Earl and Frank Junior, were standoffish too, as if they’d been listening to stories about their crazy aunt and were afraid to speak with me. Harper didn’t appear to be bothered by all the hullabaloo, but then again, her new medication tended to make her stare off into space. I knew she wasn’t seeing ghosts because there was only one spirit here, and she was hiding on the back patio. That particular ghost didn’t like children, which seemed strange since she was Frank’s mother. Didn’t she realize these children were her own blood?
My nephews whispered to one another like they had the greatest of secrets to share. Addison paid them no mind. She had a girl now, a long-awaited baby that she named Shirley Ellen. Frank Senior, as everyone was now supposed to call him, didn’t care for me—or any of us Belles for that matter. Except Addison. He treated Harper and me with quiet suspicion as he smoked his cigarettes and stared at us. But Addison looked as pretty as a picture with her dark hair pulled back in a pink ribbon. She wore pink lipstick and perfectly applied mascara. Like Momma, she wore makeup every day of her life, no matter how sick or how busy.
“Come closer, Loxley. Look at her fingers…aren’t they lovely? Who does she look like to you?”
I supposed she wanted me to say Momma, but that would be a lie and I had enough strikes against me as far as heaven went. “You. She looks like you, Addison.” My answer apparently satisfied my sister because she smiled and kissed my cheek, which never happened. Frank glowered at me as Aunt Dot helped with the baby. Harper was a sad, crumpled mess on the couch, so I decided to go outside and explore my sister’s backyard. It was a small yard, but it had a privacy fence around it. I thought perhaps I could speak to Frank’s mother and help her understand that the noisy boys, and now infant girl, were her grandchildren, but she fled from my presence.
I stepped out on the patio and was immediately unimpressed. Addison’s rose bushes were trampled down. They must have had a dog at one point. I found his empty, dusty bowl and an old rope in the yard and lots of holes dug in various places. I nearly tripped stepping in a hole that I didn’t see when I heard a voice.
“Loxley Belle. Fancy seeing you here.” The boy from school smiled at me through a gap in the fence boards.
“Your name is Harmon.” It wasn’t really a question, more like a statement of surprise. “I know you from school. What are you doing here?”
“That’s right. Harmon Gates. Sorry to hear about your mother. I haven’t seen you out here before.”
I ignored the mention of Momma. The hurt was still too real, and my heart was a tangle of emotions just thinking about it all. “That’s because I don’t come here often. This is my sister’s house. Do you live here? Over there, I mean?”
He smiled even bigger. “No, I’m just visiting. Like you.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say to him. I was glad for the conversation, but I didn’t have too many friends. Much less of the male persuasion. Making small talk didn’t come easy to me.
“Are you…” I spoke as he spoke too. We both laughed at that. Our attempts at talking over one another broke the tension, and I liked him better for having a sense of humor. “Sorry. My sister has a new baby. That’s why we’re here.”
“Congratulations. I don’t have any cigars, though.” He dug a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and offered me one.
“No, thank you,” I said, my like for him shrinking back a bit.
“That’s okay. I don’t smoke often.” He shoved the pack back in his pocket and smoothed back his dark blond hair. He was neatly dressed in dress pants and a clean button-up shirt. I assumed he must be attending a boring family event. Like me. We stood there awkwardly for a moment or two. Ready to bring the conversation to an end, I waved and decided I should ask Aunt Dot to take me home. “I better get back inside.”
“But you just got here. Do you really have to go? I was thinking of going for a walk, just around the block. Stretch my legs a bit. What do you say, kiddo?”
I crinkled my nose at him. “Kiddo? My name is Loxley Grace Belle. I’m not a kid. Or a kiddo.”
He put his hands up in surrender. With a soft, disarming chuckle, he replied, “I give, Loxley Grace Belle. That has a nice ring to it. My name is Harmon Allen Gates.” He extended his hand through the slats in the fence. I shook it briefly and then dropped it like it was a hot potato. “How about that walk?”
“Is that how you ask someone to take a walk with you? I think you have poor manners, Harmon Allen Gates. Offering a lady a cigarette and then calling her ‘kiddo.’”
His face took on a serious, hurt expression. “You’re probably right, Miss Belle. I’m going to be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. I guess I’ll see you at school.” As he turned to walk away, I raised my hand and called him back.
“No, wait. Let me check with my Aunt Dot. I don’t think she needs me, but I don’t want her to wonder where I am.”
He smiled, and it was a beautiful sight. Funny, I didn’t think of Harmon as handsome at all when I first met him, but he was kind of cute. Not dreamy like Frank Sinatra but certainly nice to look at. “I will be out front unless you prefer that I meet you down the street.”
“No n
eed for that. My aunt isn’t overprotective. She loves it when I participate in social activities, and I certainly think this would qualify. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sure enough, Aunt Dot had no objections to my meeting a school friend out on the street. In fact, she seemed pleased as punch about the whole thing and didn’t bother to ask me if the friend was a girl or a boy. I didn’t feel inclined to tell her. I shrugged as she held the crying baby and walked around the room with her. Earlier, Frank had been trying to take photographs with his big, black camera, Frank was a newspaperman, or so he fancied himself. But he wasn’t satisfied with any of the shots. I’d not been asked to be in any of them. The poor baby wasn’t pleased at all with anything they were trying to do. Shirley Ellen screamed at the top of her lungs, but at least the sound had Harper’s attention.
“Would you like to walk with me and my friend, Harper?”
“No, I’m going to hold the baby. Just look at her—isn’t she beautiful? Give her to me, Aunt Dot. It’s my turn.” I didn’t agree or disagree but went about my merry way.
“Be back in an hour, Loxley. We have to go home and get started on those thank-you cards,” my aunt reminded me as she carefully deposited the baby in Harper’s arms. Addison sat beside her; I wondered how long that would last. I stepped outside and hurried down the sidewalk to meet Harmon. My brother-in-law followed me out and watched me walk away with my schoolmate. I pretended that his staring didn’t bother me. I guess it really shouldn’t have, but for some reason it did. His disapproval was clear, but I didn’t owe him any explanation.
“Who is that scarecrow?” Harmon asked. “Don’t tell me that’s your dad.”
I huffed at him and hot-footed it away from my brother-in-law’s house as fast as possible. I didn’t glance back once.
Chapter Seven—Loxley
“No, my dad died a long time ago. That scarecrow is my brother-in-law, Frank. You don’t know him? He is your neighbor,” I said as I shoved my hands in my skirt pockets. They were noticeably empty; I’d been a good girl lately, but how long would that last? The feeling of powerlessness grew by the day, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I found and took another treasure.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to offend you. He’s not my neighbor, though. I have never seen him before.”
We walked under a moss-covered oak along broken sidewalks. Our footsteps matched almost perfectly, and for some reason that made me even more comfortable with Harmon Gates. This really was a nice neighborhood with rows of modest yet modern houses. And it was such a beautiful day that people were outside enjoying the pleasant afternoon. A few of them greeted us, while others just stared. I wasn’t sure how far Harmon planned to walk, but I wasn’t in a hurry. An hour could be a long time or a short time, depending on whose company you spent it in. Funny, I didn’t think it weird at all that I would spend time with a boy who was practically a stranger.
“If that’s not your house, what were you doing there, pray tell?”
“Pray tell? Did you pick that up from Mrs. Givens? I never heard that until I moved to George County.”
I noticed that he didn’t directly answer me, but I wasn’t going to pry. I took the opening to talk about a class we were in together, and we joked about how Mrs. Givens stuttered occasionally, especially when she got upset about any old thing. For example, if she caught someone chewing gum, she’d just about blow a gasket. That was a phrase I picked up from one of Harper’s old boyfriends. We chatted for a while, and the hour passed far more quickly than I imagined it would.
“Golly, I’ve got to get back. Aren’t your parents expecting you? I don’t normally have a curfew, but like I said, I don’t live here. We live over off Highway 63.”
“I thought you lived off Hurlette,” he said as we began to walk back to Addison’s place. Again, he didn’t answer my question, and that was beginning to bother me. I didn’t enjoy secrets too much, even though I had quite a few of my own. How did he know about Summerleigh? Had he been listening to gossip? I stopped on the sidewalk, feeling like the world was crashing down around me. I shoved my hands back in my pockets.
“What do you know about Hurlette? Or me?”
“I’ve seen the house—I’ve seen Summerleigh. I got lost when I first moved out here. I drove down the road and saw the house. It’s the only house on Hurlette, except that small one at the end of the drive. The Richardson place, I think.” I felt a little sick as he continued, “It’s common knowledge that your family owns that big old place. I thought I saw you there.”
“You were spying on me, Harmon Gates?” I didn’t offer up any information. All the pleasantness of the conversation had vanished, and the evening shadows were gathering. I could hear Aunt Dot calling me in the distance, and I began walking faster and away from Harmon.
“Of course not. Wait a second. Did I offend you? Please, wait.” His tone was softer than I’d heard all afternoon, so I did as he asked. I turned around and pretended that there weren’t tears in my eyes. “I did offend you, but why?”
“I’m not answering any more of your questions, Harmon. You haven’t answered any of mine. There are plenty of busybodies around this town and at our school. I’m sure you’ve been listening to them. Well, believe what you want—I don’t care!”
Harmon lightly touched my arm and stepped closer, and I didn’t back away. I did pull my arm away, though. I didn’t like being touched much. When I was little, I loved being held and toted around. Not anymore.
“I don’t spend much time with busybodies. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the most popular kid in school. I’d like to be your friend—I really would. Listen, I know how they treat you, that prissy girl and her smarmy friends, and I don’t like it. I don’t think it is right. If she were a guy, I’d punch her in the nose. But I’m a stranger here, and I don’t have too many buddies either. If you think the girls are bad, you should try being friends with these hard-ass rednecks.”
I was surprised at Harmon’s use of profanity, but I felt it too. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Harmon or anyone right now. I was still reeling from Momma’s loss. Talking about school wasn’t making me feel any better.
“Hardly any of those guys own a car, but I’m gonna soon. Do you like cars?”
“Yes. Where are you from, Harmon? Not Mississippi, for sure.”
“Georgia,” he said without a hint of a smile on his face.
“Do you lie about everything? You ain’t from Georgia either.”
His eyes were fixed on mine like he was trying to decide if he could trust me. I darn sure didn’t trust Harmon Gates, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be my friend.
“You got me. I’m from California. San Diego, actually. Have you heard of it?”
I gasped at his perception of me. “Of course I have. I’m not a redneck yahoo or whatever you called it. I can read a map, and I have a car too. Well, share one. I drive my aunt’s car sometimes. It’s a convertible.”
“Nice.”
Harmon’s smile was affecting me in strange yet not unpleasant ways. I swallowed and said, “I better go. I can hear Aunt Dot calling me. She must be ready to go home. Want to walk with me? Don’t you live nearby?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I don’t live this way. I was just doing a mechanical job for someone. I better go, toots.” I couldn’t figure out why, but I knew he was lying to me. And poorly. Who worked on cars in dress clothes? There wasn’t any grease under his fingernails, either. Daddy always had grease under his nails. Harmon caught me looking and smiled. “I took a shower. I clean up pretty good, huh?”
“I suppose so, but I’m not a toots either. It’s Loxley or nothing.”
“Loxley it is. No more nicknames. I’ll see you at school, then.” Harmon dug a cigarette out of his pocket, put it in his mouth and lit it as he walked away.
What a strange boy. I wasn’t sure I wanted a friend who smoked cigarettes, but beggars can’t be choosers. Aunt Dot impatiently waited for
me on the porch, but as soon as she saw me, her anxious expression vanished. She really was the nicest person on the planet. “There you are. I was about to call the police department. Harper is already in the car. That medicine makes her sleepy, and the baby is worn slap out. Do you want to go inside and say goodbye to your sister? I hate to run off, but Harper has another doctor’s appointment in the morning.”
“No, ma’am. I’m ready to go home. What’s for supper?”
“Cold chicken. Are you going to help me with the thank-you cards?”
“Yes, I’ll be glad to help you.”
We climbed in the car, and I was surprised to see Harper sitting in the back seat. Her lovely eyes were blank and staring at nothing. I hoped she got better soon. I missed my vivacious, fun-loving sister. Aunt Dot said she would improve, that the seizures wouldn’t come back, but at what cost? Harper had moments of lucidity, but they were few and far between. As she backed out of the driveway, Aunt Dot said, “Frank said you were walking with a boy. Is that true?” Her sunshiny voice relayed her excitement at the idea that I might have a boyfriend.
“He is just a friend from school. I wasn’t lying about it.”
“Oh, I never thought you were lying. What’s his name, dear?”
“Harmon Gates, but you wouldn’t know him. He’s new to the county. Aunt Dot! Look out!” A small white poodle with a child following him raced out in front of us. My aunt slammed on the brakes, and I whacked my head on the dashboard.
“Loxley? Let me take a look, sweetheart.” Aunt Dot dug a handkerchief out of her purse while the child and his dog scampered away. “Oh, shoot. You might need a stitch or two. Harper, are you okay?”
Harper didn’t make a sound, but there were tears in her eyes, unshed and just hanging out there making her eyes glassy. Kind of like my teddy bear’s eyes. I accepted the handkerchief as some rude person behind us blew their horn. I glanced in the side mirror, surprised to see Harmon’s face smiling back at me.
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