In the middle of hickory.., p.20
In the Middle of Hickory Lane, page 20
“I’m Scarlet. A friend of your mama’s. We hung out in the same circles.”
I could only imagine what kind of circles those were, all dark and dingy.
“I heard you were in town helping Glory and had to see you for myself. You sure did grow up right pretty,” she added. “You were a wrinkly thing last time I saw you, so I wasn’t sure you’d get your mama’s looks, but you did. Thank goodness. Your daddy wasn’t much of a looker, no offense to the dead. He was all ears and so … big.” She shook her head as though she still pitied the man.
I assumed Scarlet was talking about Rowan, and I thought she might have a screw loose since the pictures I’d seen of him showed a ruggedly attractive man. Big and brawny with a toothy, friendly smile. I hadn’t noticed his ears, which told me they hadn’t been that big.
She adjusted her purse strap. “I never understood what made your mama so gaga over him, chasing after him endlessly. I thought Kristalle would just about lose her mind when he kept rebuffing her.”
“Well,” I said with a tight smile, “since I’m here, she obviously found a way to win him over.”
Scarlet laughed. “Win? No. More like take advantage of after a night of drinking. Good ol’ Kristalle. If she sees an opportunity to get what she wants, she takes it, and she wanted your father. Seems to have worked out for her for the most part. She got you, didn’t she? And with you turning out so pretty? She must be real proud.”
“Mm,” I said vaguely, wishing she’d just leave.
She picked up one of Cora Bee’s delicate crochet dolls, frowned at it, then dropped it back into the basket. “How’s your mama been? I haven’t talked to her in, oh Lordy, it’s been more than a year now. Is she still in Destin?”
I hoped not. Destin was too close for comfort. A mere two-hour drive. “I never quite know where she is,” I said, skipping the first question and dancing around the second. “You know how she likes to pack up on a moment’s notice.”
Scarlet laughed, loud and obnoxious. “Ain’t that the truth? It’s been ages since I’ve seen her, but we talk every now and again. Usually when she’s on the road between towns.”
Between men, Scarlet meant.
My mother has always had two cell phones. Cheapies that could only be used with prepaid cards. One of them she replaced every time she moved somewhere new. New town, new mark, new phone, new trouble. The other one was as old as dirt. I thought she used it only for banking purposes but now I suspected she used it to talk to old friends once in a while, too. Friends like Scarlet, who I’d never even known existed until now. It was like my mother had a whole side of her life that even I didn’t know. What else had she kept from me? As soon as the thought came, I shoved it away. I decided I didn’t want to know.
Chase returned, stepping into the booth with two drinks and a tight smile on his face as he assessed my uneasy body language. He handed me a cold drink before facing Scarlet. “The Frozen South has the best Cheerwine slushies around. Have you tried one?”
She stood straight, thrusting her chest toward him. “You’ve got good taste, Chase Kistler. I’ve been drinking them since I was knee-high.”
“Do you know Scarlet?” I asked. “She’s an old friend of my mother’s.”
She scowled at me when I emphasized old.
I willed my heart to stop pounding. This woman had spoken to my mother recently. Over a year ago, but still. They kept in touch.
“Never had the pleasure,” he said.
She turned her frown upside down and tugged down her tank top to reveal more cleavage, of which there had already been plenty on display. “Everyone around here knows Chase,” she said. Her eyes lit. “The town’s going to name a street after him.”
I smiled. “I heard something about that.”
“Scarlet,” he said, “if you have a sweet tooth, you’re going to love these honey lollipops. Best ones I’ve ever tasted, so light they practically melt right on your tongue. You want to take some home? We’re having a sale. Five for ten dollars. And look at that—there are only five left.”
They were actually a dollar apiece, but I didn’t correct him. Suckers for the sucker.
“If you love them, I know I will,” she said with a titter as she reached into her handbag for her wallet.
Chase set down his cup and bagged the lollipops quickly. When he handed the cash to me, he gave my cheek a peck, right on the spot where my scar was. It nearly knocked me clear off my feet with surprise.
“Those lollipops aren’t nearly as sweet as Emme,” he said. “But you probably already know that.”
Scarlet shoved the lollipops into her handbag and said, “I didn’t know you two were dating. That was sure fast.” She raised a judgmental eyebrow toward me. “Guess you got more from your mama than just her looks.” She then gave Chase a pointed look. “Best you keep a close eye on how much you drink around her.”
With a fake smile, she turned and threaded her way back into the crowd.
Chase said, “Sorry to plant that kiss on you, but I thought if I didn’t, she might climb over the counter to eat me alive.”
I pressed my fingers to my cheek. “No big deal.”
He grabbed his chest. “I’m wounded. No big deal? I clearly need to work on my technique.”
I’d have teased him back, but I couldn’t stop staring at Scarlet’s retreating form. Her visit had left me shaken, as if something in my world had just tilted the wrong way. My house of cards was threatening to fall.
He picked up his cup, took a long pull through his straw, then said, “Hey, what did she mean that you got more from your mother than her looks? And that stuff about the drinks?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, circling wide around the truth.
“Such a mystery,” he said around the straw in his mouth.
I set the ten-dollar bill into the cash drawer, tucking it in nice and neat, and added an addendum to my earlier note about the overage. “What is? Scarlet? I think her intentions with you were clear.”
“Not her. You. Such a mix of contradictions. You said yourself that you’re uneducated, yet you’re well-read and smart as a whip. You’re friendly yet closed off. You seem fully here but I sense you’re hiding, too.”
“Me?” I asked, pasting on a fake smile. “I’m hardly mysterious. I’m Little Miss Sunshine, remember?”
I wanted him to remember. I didn’t want him to see the tattletale dark cloud that had hovered over me my whole life long. My first crime—as an accomplice—had occurred when I was just days old after my mama lifted a woman’s wallet on the way out of the Sweetgrass hospital, tucking the spoils into my baby blanket as she sailed out the door. Until I turned eighteen, it was a story she told every year on my birthday, affectionately brought out and proudly displayed with my cupcake and my unwrapped—likely stolen—present. The stories of how she used me for her misdeeds were my mama’s version of a baby book.
And also her subtle way of reminding me that I wasn’t as innocent as I looked, and that if need be, she’d throw me under the bus to save herself. It had been a relief, truly, when she cut me loose on my eighteenth birthday, leaving me to my own devices. Until today, I hadn’t even known if she was dead or alive. Was ashamed I didn’t care either way. Was grateful that I wasn’t so dead inside that I could still feel shame.
Yet, I sensed Chase could absolutely see that cloud today, could see every last one of my sins.
He held my gaze, and I saw the million questions he had about me in his eyes. “Who are you, Emme Wynn?”
I couldn’t bear him staring into my soul, so I looked away as I said, “I’m no one in particular.”
Chapter
17
January 6, 1965: I was doing my best to properly overwinter my beehives, but all the bees have died. It feels like a piece of me died, too. I should’ve done more to protect them.
Cora Bee
The police presence lured me away from my desk and out onto the front porch. A police car, an unmarked sedan, and a search-and-rescue cargo van had pulled up to the curb, not too far from where the gazing pool stood. I recognized Bob Graham, the detective in charge of Bee’s case, straight off, and wondered why he had returned when he’d told us the police were done in the garden.
In addition to Bob, three men and a woman conferred at the curb before pulling a piece of equipment from the back of the cargo van that looked like a cross between a lawn mower and a hand truck.
Glory and Dorothy were quick to join them in the garden, full of energy as they gestured this way and that. When I had checked in with the pair earlier, after Chase had texted me about Glory calling in sick to the marketplace, it had seemed to me that Glory had made a miraculous recovery. She hadn’t appeared the least bit under the weather. Even Dorothy, who’d been in the hospital the night before, seemed full of life as they played gin rummy and ate omelets.
I had the suspicion Glory had been planning this day off for a while as part of her grand plan. She wanted to get a feel for how Emme could handle the Sweetplace on her own.
The sneaky, sneaky woman.
As I watched the goings-on across the street, I was so intent on rubbernecking that I didn’t hear Jamie and Mabel until he tapped on the screen door.
“Come on in,” I said, unable to stop the small flutter in my chest at seeing him.
Mabel rushed over to me and I leaned over to give her some love. She licked my face and gave me her paw. I laughed. “Did you learn a new trick this week? Good girl.”
Her tail thumped.
“What’s going on there?” he asked with a jut of his chin toward the garden as he sat in the rocker next to mine.
“I don’t know. They showed up about fifteen minutes ago. I’m sure Aunt Glory will fill us in when she’s done talking to them.” I glanced over at him, felt that stupid flutter intensify. “Where’s Alice?”
“Her mom took her home with her after the soccer game. She’ll be there until Monday morning.”
The flutters died, drifting slowly into the dark, gaping pit in my stomach. I hadn’t realized she wouldn’t be here this weekend. “Oh. Well, that’s good. I’m sure she’s missed her.”
“She has,” Jamie said. “Living between two houses isn’t ever easy, but she shoulders it well enough since it’s all she’s ever known.”
“It probably helps that you and her mom have a good relationship and are willing to do what’s best for Alice. Not every kid is so lucky.”
I glanced at my hands, remembering how Wiley’s small fingers used to curl around mine, and how he’d laugh, open-mouthed, showing off the gaps where his baby teeth had fallen out. When Lucas and I divorced, I’d tried to get visitation rights to see Wiley. They were impossible by law, but Lucas could have allowed it. Instead, he was intent to cut me clean out of his life, as if I’d never existed at all. He’d told me that it would only confuse Wiley if I was still around. There was no changing his mind, no amount of begging, of offering to forfeit my divorce settlement, of throwing myself at his mercy. I’d have done anything, because I’d wanted desperately to keep Wiley in my life, wanted it more than life itself.
When I lost him, I’d wanted to die.
I’d tried to die on a wet road on a dark day.
But fate and Glory had kept me alive.
I pushed the memories away, irritated at how often they popped up unbidden. Would they ever stop hurting?
“It’s not always easy,” he said, watching me closely, “but I know it’s worth the hard times. Alice is why I’m here, actually. I know I’m a poor substitute, but she made me promise to water the flowers. And I was hoping to take you to lunch.”
The flutters rose from the dead.
“If you’re not busy,” he added when I didn’t answer right away. “I know you work on weekends.”
I ran my fingers over Mabel’s head and through her soft curls. “I do, that’s true, but I’ve wrapped up all the work I had planned for today.” Because I thought I’d be spending the afternoon with Alice. “I have a big project I’m working on, a contest, but I’m kind of in limbo with it.”
“The brickyard contest? Why the limbo?”
I turned slightly to face him head-on. “How do you know about the contest? Did you read about it somewhere?” I know I hadn’t told him. I’d barely told anyone. Just Emme, my mother, and Aunt Glory. Glory. The oversharer. “Did Glory say something?”
Confusion swept over his face, darkening his pale eyes, drawing his eyebrows down low. “No. She hasn’t said a word about it. I know because the shopping center is my project.” He tipped his head, as if truly puzzled.
I opened my mouth, closed it again. “You’re managing the Yardley job?”
How had I not known his temporary work in town was connected to the Yardley brickyard? It seemed a major detail to miss, though I had tuned out his particulars when he first arrived in town, once I learned he was a single dad. Could be the whole neighborhood had been talking about it, but I’d tuned it all out.
He half smiled, yet there was still a puzzled air about him. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” I said more sharply than I intended. Or maybe I intended it. I wasn’t sure. I was annoyed, feeling like I was missing something obvious.
“I’m Jamie Yardley. It’s my land that’s being built on, Cora Bee. I inherited it from my father when he passed away a few years ago. I know about the contest, because I’m the one who came up with the idea. I’m lousy with concepts. Truly terrible. I’m more of a spreadsheet kind of guy.”
No.
It was the only word that went through my head. It circled, growing bigger, louder.
No, no, no.
“You really didn’t know?” he asked. “It’s not a secret.”
“No,” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud. Mabel licked my hand. “I didn’t know. This is … terrible.”
He laughed, then sobered as he realized I wasn’t kidding. “Why?”
“It’s just that I can’t be in the contest if we … you and me, I mean…” My cheeks felt blazing hot, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more for fear that I’d self-combust from pure embarrassment.
“The contest committee knows we’re acquainted, Cora Bee, that we’re neighbors, friends. I’ve been assured it’s not a problem. I’m not a judge, so there’s no conflict of interest. It’s a small town. People know each other. I also know the other two designers. Worked with them a couple of times on difference jobs. The judges are from out of state and completely impartial. If you drop out now, the only one you’ll be hurting is yourself. You’re talented. Let that talent speak for itself.”
Bits of juniper green continued to float around him indicating there was still something he wasn’t telling me, a secret he was keeping to himself. I didn’t know whether it revolved around something to do with his private life or his work life, but whereas it hadn’t bothered me too much before, it did now.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not sitting right. This whole contest has never sat quite right. I thought maybe that was why I was struggling, but now, knowing who you are…”
He held up a hand. “Let’s put me aside for a moment.”
“As if that’s possible.”
He cracked a smile. “Let’s try to put me aside for a moment. Why are you struggling?”
I debated how to explain it before saying, “I’m more comfortable with color consulting. And though that’s an aspect of the contest, it’s not everything. And with my color work, I’ve only designed for structures that already exist. I can’t get a good feel for the Yardley complex’s personality from a mock-up. I know that probably doesn’t make sense to you, but it does in my head. I’m hoping that seeing the land will help. If it doesn’t, maybe the historical society has photos of what was there before it was razed, and I can find inspiration there.”
“I have pictures,” he said. “Plenty of them.”
Before I could beg to see them, I noticed Glory and Dorothy heading up the walkway. Mabel was on her feet, her tail wagging as they climbed the steps.
Jamie leaped up to open the door.
As they came onto the porch, Dorothy kept looking over her shoulder at the police and bright color sat high on Glory’s cheeks.
As they sat down on the porch swing, I said, “What’s Jamie’s last name, Aunt Glory?”
She tipped her head and gave me a strange look, as though wondering if I’d lost my mind. “Is this one of those mental acuity tests? Because I can pass this one, easy as can be, hon. He’s a Yardley.”
Why hadn’t she said anything about him when I brought up working on the Yardley contest? It seemed an odd thing not to mention. Unless. I narrowed my gaze at her.
She looked me dead in the eye and grinned. “A dang handsome one, too, don’t you think?”
Apparently, Alice wasn’t the only one around here hoping to be a matchmaker.
Before I could say anything, Dorothy bounced in her seat and said, “Can I play, too? My brain isn’t as sharp as it used to be, so it can use all the testing it can get.”
Dorothy liked a good competition.
“Sure can,” Glory said. “What’s Jamie’s granddaddy’s name? The one that Levi stole from?”
“Joseph,” Dorothy said, beaming. “His wife, that’s who Levi was cattin’ around with, was named Margot, with a fancy t at the end. Jamie here has his granddaddy’s smile. Cut from a fine cloth, he was. A fine, fine cloth.”
“Well done,” Glory said, putting her arm around her. “Your brain seems to be working just fine to me.”
I stared wide-eyed at Dorothy, who was puffed up with pride. Because of Bee’s diary, I’d known she suspected Levi had been cheating, but I hadn’t known it had been with Mrs. Yardley. If I was this shocked by the news, I could only imagine how Bee had felt at the time.
“I told you my name wasn’t a secret,” Jamie said softly to me.
He was a Yardley. I couldn’t wrap my head fully around it.
At the sound of voices, Glory looked across the street. “I don’t know if I can abide watching the police tromping through the garden all day. I might lose my head. They were supposed to be done.”
