Chasing pearl, p.9
Chasing Pearl, page 9
“It was a real pleasure, ma’am.” He held out a hand, and she took it. “I’m really glad I have a few more Sundays here.”
“We’re thrilled Jacob housed you with us. What a pleasure it is to extend our hospitality to you while you’re back here.” She turned to Drew and said, “I believe I’m ready for you to bring the truck around. I’m not feeling much like lingering about.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Scarlett leaned close to Violet. “I’m gonna ride with Gran and Uncle Drew. I’m a little uncomfortable with her color. I want to take her blood pressure at home. You enjoy the walk home with your tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, there. Okay?”
“Scarlett,” Violet said through her teeth, her eyes darting to Chase who clearly was not listening to them because he was currently cornered by three men. “He’s not my tall, dark anything. We just walked to church together.”
Scarlett wiggled her eyebrows. “Shoog, that fella over there can ride the rough string and has his sights set on you and you alone. This ain’t my first rodeo. You can hang your hat on it.” She turned her back on Violet and slipped an arm through Grandma Vi’s. “Okay, Gran. Time for some leftover chicken noodle and a tall glass of lemonade.”
“Oh, I could sit still for that.”
“Violet?” Chase asked as they stepped outside. He pulled the sunglasses out from where he’d hung them on the back of his collar and slipped them on. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”
“Oh. Uh.” Violet paused.
“I’m hungry and figured you might be, too. My treat. How about it?”
Her eyes shifted from Chase to Scarlett, who was helping Grandma Vi into Drew’s truck. She very much would like to go with him. So why hesitate? Looking back up at Chase, she nodded. “I’d love to. Yes.”
Scarlett called out, “Hang your hat on it!”
Violet caught Scarlett’s eyes as they turned in the direction away from the truck. Her sister raised an eyebrow, then grinned and waved.
Violet didn’t respond. She just looked forward again. “Where to?”
He gestured toward the intersection. “I pass a barbecue place every morning on my bike. It smells really good. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure. I know that place.” They walked in silence for a few moments. Chase seemed unfazed by the lack of conversation and simply contributed to the silence. Finally, Violet asked, “How’s the football camp going?”
“Oh, it’s fun. The kids are great. They’re ready not to have to spend all day in a uniform on a football field, though.”
“Long camp. It’s almost their whole summer, isn’t it?”
“Pretty much.” They turned the corner, and she could see the restaurant in front of them. The parking lot looked full already. “A second group arrives tomorrow. They’re older. They’ll come in with more experience, and we won’t have to spend the first week teaching so much of the basics. It will be really good for the younger kids to have the older kids to play with and mentor them.”
He held open the door for her, and they entered the dim interior. The smell of wood-roasted meat filled the air. Violet had eaten breakfast at five-thirty, so her stomach responded to the smell by trying to gnaw itself out of her body. She hoped the wait wasn’t too long. The hostess caught Violet’s eye.
“Hey, there,” Violet greeted with a little wave.
The hostess’ smile appeared automatically, like a cuckoo clock striking the half hour.
“Hello.” Chase greeted.” It smells really great in here.”
When Chase slipped his sunglasses off, the hostess’ eyes widened. “Chase Anderson? Wow, my dad’s gonna flip.” She picked up two menus. “I can work you into a two-top if that’s all of you. Otherwise, I’m afraid there will be a wait.”
Chase smiled politely. “It’s just the two of us.”
They followed her through the busy dining room to a small table by the window. The rustic wood table had a roll of paper towels sitting next to a cardboard six-pack container that held six flavors of barbeque sauce.
Chase pulled Violet’s chair out before taking his own seat. Violet hesitated upon seeing this, as if unsure whether Chase was actually pulling out a chair for her or for himself. When she realized it was for her, Violet smiled and gracefully sat, folding her skirt up under her thighs as she did so.
“Your waiter will be here in a just a sec,” the hostess said. “I’ll bring your drinks. What’ll you have?”
Violet said, “Just ice water, please.”
“Same for me.”
“Lemon?” the hostess prompted.
Violet nodded and Chase said, “That would be great.”
Armed with her orders for water with lemon, she left, and Violet picked up the menu. “This is a treat. I haven’t eaten out in months.”
Chase set the menu on the edge of the table. “Why not?”
“Oh, there’s always so much food prepared at home. Feels wasteful to eat out most days.” She skimmed the offerings, made her decisions, and set the menu on top of his. “I always enjoy it, though, because there’s no work for me on the other side. But, Scarlett is such a good chef it’s worth the dishes.”
“Chef?” He sat back as the hostess set the water in front of them. “You said she went to school. Culinary school?”
“Yep. I insisted. She tried to buck me on it ‘cause I’d had plans for school before granddaddy died and I never did get to go, but I won. Scarlett doesn’t want to do more than cater with it. But what she does in the menu planning of the inn is fair to middlin’. Gran can cook like she can. Clearly, that’s where her gift lies, but she knows how to put menus together that keep the guests talking.”
Chase nodded. “I’ve really enjoyed it. It beats ‘make your own waffles’ at the neighborhood motel any day.”
They both glanced at the waiter who appeared at their table. Violet wondered if he was even sixteen yet. “Howdy. I’m Arnie.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “My sister’s taking your pictures and posting them on social media. Just be warned.” He straightened, and Violet looked in the direction of the hostess stand, catching the girl typing on her phone. “Our special is the pulled pork sandwich with two sides. What can I get you?”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Arnie, your sister is being rude. So, I’d like to speak to your father.” He looked over at Violet as Arnie scurried away. “Do you want to stay?”
“Actually, I’m so hungry my stomach thinks my throats been cut.”
“Okay. No problem.” He waved a hand toward the hostess. Violet watched her face light up as she rushed to the table.
“Yes, Chase?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Chase?”
As she fidgeted, she said, “Sorry. Yes, Mr. Anderson.”
“Taking pictures of me and posting them on social media is your right in your father’s establishment, but it’s rude and disrespectful to do so without either my knowledge or consent, and I won’t ever be back. Tell your daddy what you did and what I said, and see what he says to you. In the meantime, we’re hungry.” He gestured toward Violet. “What do you want?”
It took determination not to shift around on the glossy wood bench. She couldn’t imagine confronting rudeness with such courage. “Brisket plate with coleslaw and cornbread.”
“I’ll have the same. Double meat.” The hostess stood there, tears brimming in her eyes. “Do you need help taking our order?”
That snapped her out of her moment, and she grabbed the menus clearly out of habit. “No, sir. I’ll go get your order in.”
Chase ran a hand over the back of his head as Violet took several long swallows of water. “Do you think their father will come?”
“Doesn’t matter.” With a deep sigh, he folded his hands on the table in front of him. She noticed his A&M ring on his finger. “I haven’t been back here since I graduated. I went straight to Airborne School at Fort Benning and my life as a soldier began. I knew there would be something, especially from the parents of the football camp, but I didn’t realize it would be this constant. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not like you’re walking around with a sign expecting people to recognize you.” She picked up the paper straw wrapper and twisted it into a rope. “I’ve never understood the hero worship of college kids tossing a football around.”
“Hero worship?” Chase prompted.
“I reckon that’s the Queen’s English, ain’t it?” Violet smiled to soften the rhetoric. “Made my grandfather and uncle feel crazy about me, but it’s true. Honestly? Felt like idolatry to me. I have other things I’d rather devote my heart and mind to.”
“My goodness that’s refreshing.” His smile warmed his eyes. “So, what kinds of things do you devote your heart and mind to, Violet Pearl?”
She looked over to the side and saw the hostess rushing toward them, carrying two rectangular metal plates. Relieved for the distraction, Violet sat back a bit and the hostess slid their meals onto the table. “My daddy’s in Houston and won’t be back until late tonight”
Chase stared at her and waited. Finally, he said, “And?”
She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “And he said to apologize to you and delete the pictures.”
After another long pause, Chase said, “And?”
She stared at the table as she spoke. “And, I apologize. I have learned a lesson, and I hope you won’t tell anyone about what I did and hurt daddy’s business.”
Chase nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. Apology accepted. And this smell great.”
She didn’t even look at him again as she rushed away. Chase chuckled. Violet wondered at his reaction. “I suspected her father had more to say besides that he was in Houston until late. I just had a feeling.”
“How did you know how she would react?”
“My sister Cora was very into her phone until not too long ago.” He gestured at the plate piled with slices of smoked beef next to a scoop of coleslaw, a dill pickle spear, and a square of jalapeño cornbread. “Would you like me to pray?”
“Yes, please!”
After Chase asked God’s blessing on the meal, she slipped a paper towel into her lap and picked up her fork. While she chewed on a piece of beef, she contemplated the sauces, picking one that promised some sweet with some heat.
“Well?”
Dousing the meat on her tray with the sauce, she asked, “Well what?”
“Well, what occupies the heart and mind of Violet Pearl?”
“Oh. Still on that, are you?”
Chase paused while he savored the flavor of the brisket. He pointed at her with his plastic fork. “I watch you. You go into your head a lot. Something in there keeps you mulling. I just want to know what.”
Her cheeks fused with heat and she suddenly lost the relaxed feeling. She stared at the condensation on the outside of her glass instead of at him. “I, uh, don’t…”
“You don’t want to answer?” Chase teased.
She could almost hear Scarlett in her ear, encouraging her to relax, make eye contact, trust in the friendship Chase offered. Finally, she looked up at him, noticed that he waited patiently for her to speak. “Might as well. Can’t dance, never could sing, and it’s too wet to plow.”
Chase gives her a puzzled look.
“I’m an author. I write mystery novels. Set in the 1940’s. Like, while the country is embroiled in a war on two fronts.” She heard her own voice trail off and could tell he expected almost anything else to come out of her mouth. The foolish feeling swamped her as it always did when she talked about her books.
He grinned and leaned forward. “Are you serious? That’s amazing! No wonder you fell so in love with that box! How many have you written?”
His reaction made the tense muscles in her neck relax. “I have eight published novels. The next one is releasing in August, and I am writing my tenth one right now.”
“Ten books?” His eyes widened. “How long have you been doing this?”
She cleared her throat. “My first one published when I was twenty-two. They published one a year for three years, then every six months for the others. Hot will cool if greedy will let it. If I could write faster, I reckon they might try to publish faster. They’re pretty popular so far.”
He shook his head. “How have I lived in your house for two weeks and didn’t know this?”
She took another bite and felt the zing of the spices of the sauce flood her mouth. Enjoying the flavor too much to rush through, she took her time chewing and swallowing before she answered. “I don’t really talk about it.”
His laughter boomed around them. “Violet, you don’t really talk about much of anything.”
“True.” She laughed, too. “But, if you chew the fat with Scarlett for any reason, she normally finds some way to wedge it in. I’m surprised you didn’t know. My books are on the shelves in the front room, but there’s not a neon sign or anything.”
He studied her for several seconds. “Do you write under your own name?”
With a shrug, she said, “Sure. Violet Pearl. The perfect cozy mystery writer name. It’s almost like my parents destined me or something. I’m sure most people assume I use a pen name.” She put some coleslaw and beef on her fork. She loved the flavor combination with the sauce. “So. Airborne school? Tell me about that. What’s that like?”
“The school? Ridiculously hard. Lots of physical training. Lots and lots of running. Really bad food in the mess hall, which makes everything harder. Good food feeds more than just the body. The jumping out of airplanes?” He set his fork down and leaned back. “Incredible. A mental rush I can’t put into words. But, so hard on the body. Between football my whole life and airborne status, my knees are shot. I intentionally transferred to a different specialty just to give my body a break.” He shook his head. “Not even thirty and already falling apart.”
“Have you been in combat?”
Chase immediately tensed up. His face remained stoic for several seconds. “Why do you ask?”
Why did she ask? “Curiosity. It’s what I think of when I see the cadets here in uniform. Our nation has been engaged in combat for a long time; since you and I were, what, elementary school? Middle school? It’s a fair question.” She shrugged. “Besides, I write novels in wartime America. Vets coming and going from combat are part of my character base. I’m driven by a writer’s curiosity about that.”
“Do you create vets with crippling PTSD?”
Violet tried to understand the question. “I have a character who has what we would probably call PTSD. But, he was a vet from the first world war. Otherwise, not really.”
Chase chewed silently so Violet continued. “I don’t think it’s realistic to assume that every vet who experiences combat is destroyed by it. I think the cases where it happens are tragic but much rarer than Hollywood constantly portrays.” He just continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable, so she shifted uncomfortably. “That’s just my observation, though. Am I wrong?”
His smile returned. “Absolutely not. You’re exactly right. Frankly, it’s disgusting how the media portrays all vets as broken and a little bit crazy. It dishonors the courage and sacrifice of every single person I ever served alongside. And it dishonors me.”
Violet felt her eyes widen. “I never really thought of that. I wonder if vets felt the same way as you do coming back home from the Pacific or Europe.”
“Different time. Different culture. No idea. I do know that it’s a national disgrace today in our real world.”
“You never really answered my question, Mr. Anderson.”
“Mr. Anderson?” He shook his head. “Chase.”
“Now you’re just stalling, Chase.” It astonished Violet how much she enjoyed pronouncing his first name.
He nodded and used the last piece of his cornbread to soak up the remaining sauce on his plate and sat back with his water glass. He had literally cleaned his plate. “The answer is yes. I’ve served in combat.” Chase echoed her own words from earlier back to her. “I don’t really talk about it.”
“Alright. That’s fair.” She couldn’t take another bite. It pained her to leave a slice of beef on her plate, but she couldn’t finish it. She, too, sat back. “What do you do now?”
“In layman’s terms, I keep bad guys from hacking military networks. But it’s a lot more complicated than that. A lot of the bad guys today are state-sponsored actors.”
“I am able to work on my computer. I can make programs work, keep websites running. But, I don’t know how it works or why. I’ve tried. I just can’t wrap my brain around it. I’m impressed by anyone who understands it.”
She looked over as Arnie came to the table. “My dad said it’s on the house and to thank you for your understanding about my sister.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Chase said, sliding out of his bench, “but I’ll pay.” He waited for Violet to stand, then leaned over the table and grabbed his Bible off the bench.
Once he’d settled the bill, they walked outside. “Thank you for lunch,” Violet said. “I enjoy talking with you.”
He smiled and put a hand on the small of her back. “Likewise.” They started walking in the direction of the Texas Pearl. “I plan to start one of your books tonight.”
“Oh.” The fidgety, terrible, uncomfortable feeling of the idea of someone reading one of her books flooded her chest. “Gosh, I, uh, wish you hadn’t told me.”
“Why?”
“Because then I wouldn’t know.” She looked up at him. “Never mind. That sounded stupid.”
“Honest emotions aren’t stupid. Football was great, but I could have done without the Monday morning armchair quarterbacks. I imagine it’s even harder to produce something like a novel and then put it out there for the entire world to critique. Violet, making you uncomfortable is the last thing on my list of things to do while I’m here. I apologize.”
They walked in silence for several minutes. Violet worked through the idea of Chase reading her books, of him finding them silly or interesting, intriguing or easy to solve. She also thought about what it would do to her mind if he actually liked them, and decided it was worth the risk.
