In the middle of hickory.., p.24
In the Middle of Hickory Lane, page 24
Alice appeared in the doorway seconds later. Her short hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail that reminded me of the first time I’d met her. “She loves you.”
“I’ve grown mighty fond of her, too. Yes, I have,” I said to Mabel in a high-pitched voice.
She licked my hand, and as she settled down, she started sniffing around the room, beginning with my foot that was propped on the ottoman. When she started to lick the cast, Alice snapped her fingers. “No, Mabel,” she said, and the dog moved on to smell the chair Emme usually sat in, the chair where Mabel preferred to nap in the afternoons. As usual, she jumped up and lay down.
“Are you still not sleeping well?” Alice asked as she moseyed into the room, one arm behind her back.
“Does it show that much?” I asked as I picked up the glass of iced coffee Emme had made for me before she left to see Glory.
Alice lifted one shoulder and winced as she said, “A little.”
She was honest—I’d give her that. “It’ll get better soon, I’m sure.” I wasn’t sure at all, but I didn’t want Alice to worry about me. “What have you got there?”
I’d noticed she still had one hand behind her back and there was an impish light in her eyes.
With a big smile, she swung her hand toward me, and on it sat a wrapped gift. The paper, I noticed, had “happy birthday” written on it.
I took the gift. “You know it’s not my birthday…” We’d talked about birthdays last week. Mine was in August; hers was in November.
“Oh!” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the only gift wrap Dad had in the house. Ignore that. Open it!”
I carefully removed the paper and smiled at what was slowly revealed. It was a ceramic bee, its rotund body painted black and gold, its wings white. It still smelled like clay. “Did you make this?”
She nodded. “In art class.”
She’d made a gift just for me. Tears gathered in my eyes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Alice. I love it. Absolutely love it.”
Alice came over to me and before I knew it, she was giving me a hug. “I’m sorry Mabel knocked you down, but I’m glad she did. Well, you know what I mean.”
I hugged her back. “I do know what you mean.”
A minute later, she was outside, and I heard the squeak of the spigot.
As I set the bee on my desk, I stared long and hard at it, thinking that there might just be enough room inside my heart for a few more people … and one happy dog.
Chapter
21
June 1, 1965: Strangest dang thing is happening near the gazing pool. A perfectly round sinkhole has opened up, about the width of a manhole cover, unsure how deep. A neighbor said it’s because of the drought. Have a call in to the county engineer to see what to do about it, and I’ll be sure to keep Lillian away from it since she’s walking all over the place now. Another strange thing … since that sinkhole has opened, I’ve started seeing the glowing bees near the gazing pool again. Every day, I sit out there with them for a long while, listening to their soft buzzing. It feels a bit like visiting with old friends.
Cora Bee
Friday had dawned with a full-on hissy fit. Thunder had shaken the house and rattled glassware in the cabinet while rain pounded the roof. The forecast had called for intermittent storms throughout the day, and so far, the prediction hadn’t been wrong. The temperature had steadily risen throughout the day, too, which most likely meant the storms would become more severe as the day went on. Tornado watches were already in effect.
At least the bad weather had kept me alert through the morning. I was feeling the effects of my insomnia, yawning all the time, dealing with sluggishness, and I was plagued with a constant low-level headache. I had tried just about everything to sleep and stay asleep, except for a bath before bedtime because even though my cast was made of waterproof material, I didn’t want to deal with it in the tub. Tonight I was going to try diffusing lavender oil, which Emme had brought home from the Sweetplace for me to try. At this point, it couldn’t hurt.
Now that it was midafternoon, the skies were still angry but at least it had stopped raining for the time being. I was trying my best to keep my eyes off the sky and on my computer screen. I consoled myself with the fact that tornadoes weren’t common here—there hadn’t been one that touched ground in more than twenty years. Still, years of living in the South had taught me that weather was the most unpredictable enemy.
I felt for Emme and Aunt Glory, who’d been at the Sweetplace all day and had come back looking like they’d gone for a swim in the bay. Sales had been lousy but both seemed in good enough spirits, though they often were when they were together.
Emme was currently across the street in the garden, tending to her beloved flowers, and then she had plans to work in the garage on some of her new upcycling projects. Aunt Glory, Dorothy, and my mama were taking a quick trip for a second look at a plot of land not too far from the old brickyard. Aunt Glory thought the proximity would prove beneficial for the Sweetplace, as drivers would have to pass the Sweetplace before getting to the new shopping center. Afterward, they were planning to stop at a local retirement home under the guise of Glory looking at it for a possible place to move should she become too weak to live on her own. Dorothy, I was quite sure, would see right through that plan. I smiled as I wondered if there was going to be a fainting spell in her near future.
My gaze fell on my desk calendar, and I realized I still didn’t have a gift for my mama for Mother’s Day this Sunday. Dorothy had promised to check for photos of Bee, but so far she hadn’t found any. I couldn’t wait much longer.
I glanced out the window again, then forced my gaze back onto the rendering on my computer screen. At what I saw, I felt a sense of pride, even though I had gone off the rails in terms of what had been asked of me by Turner & Gebbes.
With my design plan for the BeeYard, I’d altered the original renderings the firm had sent me, adding brick columns, rich wooden accents, subtle honeycomb patterns, lush landscaping, and touches of gold everywhere. The branding would include bees, and I had made a note to have hundreds of the bricks stamped with a small bee design, so that visitors would catch a glimpse of one every here and there as they shopped. Overall, the design exuded elegant warmth, hinted at the past, and above all, it felt right.
Which had made my decision to drop out of the contest that much harder.
Still, it had to be done.
My professional integrity was on the line, and I refused to compromise it. If I wanted Jamie in my life, my heart, then there was no other option. And I wanted Jamie in my heart. With him, there were glimpses of hope. Hope and promise for a future I’d never dreamed possible.
Feeling like I was absolutely making the right choice, I picked up my phone and called my contact at T&G, letting them know of my decision.
What I heard in reply had me storming out the front door before I could think twice. I made sure Jamie’s truck was in his driveway before I crutched my way up the sidewalk and turned up his walkway. I was glad Alice wasn’t home from school yet, so I didn’t have to fake a happy face for her. Mabel heard me before I knocked, her cheerful barks doing little to diffuse my anger.
The front door swung open, and Jamie’s welcoming smile dissolved when he saw the look on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, closing the door behind me as I crutched past him into his entryway.
Mabel danced around my legs, and I petted her because I couldn’t help myself, though I really just wanted Jamie to explain himself.
“Come, Mabel,” he said, leading her outside, as if he knew no one but us should hear this conversation. Not even the dog.
When he came back, I looked straight in his eyes. “I called Turner and Gebbes to pull out of the contest due to my relationship with you.”
“But Cora Bee,” he started.
I held up a hand, stopping him. “They were real kind about it but perplexed, since they were aware of our relationship.”
“I told you,” he began.
I held up my hand again. “They told me they’d keep me in mind for other projects, that they’d been impressed with my portfolio, that they might have overlooked me had you not insisted I be issued an invitation to the competition. Why, Jamie? Why? Why did you insist I be invited to the competition? I hadn’t even met you at that point.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I can explain.”
“I’m waiting.”
“Let’s sit down.”
“I’m fine standing.”
He sighed. “You’re right—I’d never met you. But I knew of you. Knew exactly who you were. A Gipson. Specifically, Levi Gipson’s granddaughter.”
“What does this have to do with him? Is this because of what he did at the brick company? Some kind of revenge?” Oh God, how that thought hurt. Had he been using me all this time as some sort of plan to seek justice for his family? As if Levi hadn’t already hurt my family enough?
“Of course not. No. It’s because of what Levi didn’t do at the brick company.”
Now I kind of wished I’d sat down, but I stood steady, gripping my crutch handles. “I don’t understand.”
“Levi didn’t steal anything from the brickyard. He was set up. Framed. The money was never missing, just moved around to make it look like it was.”
The words swirled in my head, and I tried to make sense of them but couldn’t. “What? By whom?”
“My grandfather. For revenge. Because Levi did steal my grandmother’s heart.”
The affair. I’d almost forgotten.
“It’s a long story,” Jamie said, “and I only found out because when my grandfather was dying, he lost his head a bit and started talking about all kinds of things he probably otherwise would’ve taken to the grave. When he admitted he framed your grandfather, it got me to thinking. Were the embezzlement accusations the thing that pushed Levi over the edge, made him snap? After all, he was facing a decade in jail and no one believed he was innocent. Or—and I hate to even think this—what if my grandmother was the reason Levi did what he did to Bee? Did Bee know about his affair? Had she confronted him? Was the affair the reason for the fight they had the night she disappeared? Or what if Levi just wanted Bee out of the way so he and my grandmother could be together?”
My head started to spin, and I felt dizzy. “Did the police ever question your grandmother?”
“Not that I know of. She left town shortly after Bee disappeared, moving to Tuscaloosa to live with family up there. My grandfather stayed behind in Sweetgrass for a while but ultimately closed the brickyard and opened a new one up along the Black Warrior River. He and my grandmother stayed together—but had separate bedrooms—until her death six years later.”
“So we’ll likely never know what really happened.”
“Probably not, but the shame of my family’s possible, probable, involvement in Bee’s death weighed on me. When I came to Sweetgrass to start the brickyard project, I found out Levi still had family in the area and that you were a designer. I thought, I don’t know, that if I could give your career a boost, it would somehow make some of the shame go away.”
As he spoke, the bits of juniper green around him paled. This had been the big secret he’d been keeping. “So you were going to rig a contest for me to win?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’d never do that.”
Suddenly he was awash in a plum color—remorse. At seeing it, my anger lessened but didn’t fade away completely.
“All I did was get you invited,” he said. “You would’ve been judged fairly, just like the other designers. I never expected to meet you in person. I didn’t know you lived on Hickory Lane when I came up with the idea for the contest. I didn’t know Mabel would knock you down. I was just trying, in my own small way, to help you out, to make some sort of amends.”
Now that my adrenaline was wearing off, I was beginning to shake. “I don’t need your help. I was doing fine before you came along trying to make yourself feel better.”
He winced. “This is a shock, I know. And I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking long and hard about Sweetgrass this week. And the brickyard. Being here … being with you, has been the best thing to happen to me in a long time. I decided I want to sell the brickyard land to Glory for the Sweetplace. It feels like the right thing to do.”
My head hurt, my heart hurt, and I was so damn tired. This was all old news to him, yet it had only just been sprung on me. “You can’t be serious. Years of work has already gone into the brickyard project. All that time, all that effort, all that money … You’re just trying to appease me. You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t make decisions lightly. I want to stay here in Sweetgrass. I want to be with you. I want us.” His sorrowful eyes pleaded with me. “What do you want, Cora Bee?”
My heart thudded against my ribs. I couldn’t listen to any more of this. And Alice would be home soon, and I didn’t want her to see me upset.
I turned toward the door, pulled it open. It had started to rain again. “I don’t know what I want other than I don’t want to be here right now.”
With that, I crutched outside and let the rain wash the tears from my face as I made my way home.
* * *
An hour later, the skies had gone black as night. As soon as I’d gotten home from Jamie’s, I’d taken four ibuprofen and shut off my computer for the day. I would’ve crawled into bed, but one of the tips for insomnia was to stay out of bed until bedtime, and right now my longing for sleep outweighed my desire to hide under my covers.
To occupy my brain, I’d taken my latest crochet project to the couch, where I’d spent more time pulling out stitches than completing them because my concentration kept wandering.
To Jamie. To Alice. To Bee.
Would she still be here?
All my anger drained away as I replayed over and over again what Jamie had said, but it always kept straying back to one aspect in particular.
I want us.
Did I want us, too?
It should’ve been a simple question, yet it wasn’t.
I heard footsteps on the porch stairs and hoped it wasn’t Alice. It shouldn’t be. Beyond the fact that she didn’t need to water because of the rain, she should be on her way to her mom’s house—she was spending Mother’s Day weekend up there.
When Emme came rushing into the house, her hair plastered to her head, my shoulders loosened with relief.
Laughing, she said, “I’ve never seen it rain so hard.” She then took one look at me, held up a finger. “I’m going to put some dry clothes on, and then you’re going to tell me what’s wrong. I’ll be right back.”
Five minutes later, I said, “I had a fight with Jamie.”
At the compassionate look in her eyes, I let it all spill out.
She said, “The first time I saw Jamie, I pegged him as honorable, and my first impressions are rarely wrong. I truly think he meant to help, not harm. He was trying to make things right between the two families in his own way.”
The wind picked up and thunder rocked the house. “He still lied.”
“Yeah, he did. But on the lie-o-meter, it’s a one or two at most. A small white lie.”
I arched an eyebrow. “The lie-o-meter?”
She smiled. “I just made that up.”
“It’s just that after my divorce, I decided not to let anyone else into my life. I’d decided that love wasn’t worth the inevitable pain. But these last couple of weeks, I haven’t been so vigilant. I’ve gotten attached to Alice, to Jamie, even to Mabel. I’m afraid something is going to happen and I’m going to lose them. Whether it’s a fight with Jamie or they move away or anything. I’m scared.” So very scared.
A bolt of lightning hit somewhere close and the hair on my arms stood up and the power cut out.
Emme let out a yip and jumped up to look out the window. “I don’t see any flames, but that was way too close for comfort.”
I used my cell phone data to look at the local radar. An angry red line was inching across the bay toward us. Suddenly, my cell phone let out a warning alarm, which I shut off only to hear the county sirens blaring.
“Tornado sirens,” I said, grabbing my crutches to stand up.
Emme didn’t back away from the window. “Glory’s out there somewhere.”
My mama and Dorothy, too. And Jamie and Alice, on their way to Birmingham. How far were they ahead of this storm? I swallowed hard. “We need to take cover. But first I need to grab my laptop.”
She finally turned away from the window. “I’ll get it.”
“And the ceramic bee on my desk?”
The wind howled, nearly drowning out the sound of the tornado siren, as she nodded and darted down the hallway.
I crutched quickly into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and grabbed a flashlight. I flipped it on, only to find it was dead. I looked for spare batteries but didn’t have the right size. In my head, I could hear my daddy’s lecture about always being prepared and pushed it out of my thoughts.
Emme came rushing into the kitchen with my things, plus her backpack and the crochet bunny. “Do you have a storm cellar?”
“No, unfortunately.” Wobbling on my crutches, I moved into the hallway, pulled open the closet door. I yanked out the sweeper and rolled it aside. “This closet is our safest spot. Inner room, no windows. It’ll be tight, but we’ll both fit easily.” I saw the rising panic in her eyes as she stared into the dark space. “It’ll be okay, Emme.”
She started to tremble. “It’s so dark.”
I slipped my phone from my pocket, used its flashlight feature. “Let there be light. Now, come on.” I crutched into the closet, then waved her inside.
With a deep breath, she stepped into the closet beside me, set down our prized possessions, and stowed my crutches next to my winter coat. She helped me down to the floor, then sat opposite me. Her back was on one side wall, mine on the other. I thanked the stars above that the closet was wide enough for me to stretch out my legs. Emme had her knees pulled up to her chin, and we were so close I could feel her shaking through my cast.
