Chapter Nine
The next afternoon Violet showed up at my door, her arms loaded with clothes.
“We’re supposed to be taking clothes out, not in,” I said as I held the door open for her.
She took one look at me and raised her eyebrows. “What are you wearing? Where did you get that?”
I had on a pair of jeans that Momma never would have approved of and a cute t-shirt that actually clung to the curves of my body. “I bought it yesterday and some other clothes too. I decided to embrace the new me.”
I expected to embrace Violet’s wrath with my proclamation, but she surprised me by eyeing me from head to toe, her arms still full. “I approve. Very cute. You might not need these after all.”
“What is all that?” I asked as she dumped them on the kitchen table.
“Some of my clothes, for you to wear on your date tonight. But we’ll check out what you got later.”
We headed back to Momma’s room. Violet threw open the heavy drapes to let the sunlight in and dust flew in all directions.
“You would think the woman was a vampire the way she kept this room so cave-like.” Violet said, looking outside. “Hey, who’s the woman in Joe’s backyard?”
I moved to the window. “Don't ask.” I noticed her dog bounding around the yard. It occurred to me her dog had been the dog in my vision about Joe and his fence.
Violet turned to me and put her hand on her hip. “But didn’t you and Joe—"
“I said don't ask.” I turned my back to her as I began to tape one of the multitude of boxes I bought earlier that morning.
We spent the afternoon going through Momma’s drawers and closet, pulling out clothes and putting them in boxes. I had considered using garbage bags, but it seemed so irreverent. It was distressing enough to dispose of the contents of a person’s life. In the end, trash bag or cardboard box, it didn't matter. A lifetime of possessions were just gone.
When I voiced my thoughts to Violet, she snorted. “Please. Momma got everything she deserved and not enough if you ask me. Her will is livin’ proof of that.”
“But Aunt Bessie said that we didn’t know everything. She said Daddy did something that nearly broke Momma.”
Violet stopped folding the pants in her hands. “Daddy never hurt a soul. How could his own sister say that?”
I shrugged. “I pretty much told her the same thing, but Aunt Bessie said I’d want answers some day and she would tell me what she knew. She said Momma had a reason for being the way she was.”
Violet scowled. “I cannot believe you are defendin’ her, especially after what she did to you.” She took the pants and spiked them into the box next to her to prove her point. “I’m still going to make this right, by the way.”
“But Violet, what if it’s true. What if Momma had an excuse for doing what she did.”
Anger burned in Violet’s eyes. “I don’t care what happened to her. There is no reason that could excuse the way she treated us, most of all you.”
Her tone told me she refused to discuss it any further. I was fine with that. I didn't like to think of Daddy doing anything so bad he could break someone.
Boxing up Momma’s possessions was an easy job since we never considered keeping anything, not even for a memento. At five o’clock, Violet announced we were done for the day even though we hadn’t finished everything.
“Time to go through your clothes and get ready for your date.” She sat on my bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as I pulled my new clothing out of my closet and drawers to show her. “Bravo!” she said and clapped when I finished. “I love them.”
“Really?” Her reaction at the funeral made me wary of her acceptance, but I had to admit I had caught her off-guard then.
“Yes, very tasteful and much more age-appropriate. You always looked like a Mini-Me of Momma before.” She shuddered as she said the words.
I considered protesting, but she was right. “So, what do you think?” I asked. “What should I wear?”
Violet picked out a skirt and blouse and told me to take a shower and wash my hair. She would wait for me.
When I got out and dressed, Violet brought in my Walmart receipt. “What’s this?”
“It’s my Wish List,” I said, brushing my damp hair.
“What kind of Wish List?”
“I don't know, things I want to accomplish before I die. Or more specifically, before I get arrested.”
“Rose! Don’t say such a thing! You’re not gonna get arrested.”
I didn't want to think about it, especially since I was preparing for my first date ever. “I certainly hope not, but it’s something I have to consider. There’s circumstantial evidence. Deanna Crawfield says it's a possibility.”
Violet frowned. “I refuse to consider it. You didn’t do it and they’ll catch whoever did.” She turned her attention to the receipt. “This is an odd list.”
“Maybe for you, but it’s mine.”
“I noticed you checked off kiss a man.”
“I already told you I had. That should come as no surprise.”
“I hoped it was some kind of rebellious exaggeration. But now that you mention it, why are you so eager to go on a date after your wonderful kiss? Does it have anything to do with the woman in Joe’s backyard?” She looked a little too smug.
“I told you I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Violet tried to hide her smile but not soon enough. “Go blow dry your hair and I’ll show you how to put on makeup. That is if Aunt Bessie didn’t show you already.”
Aunt Bessie had, but it was all so foreign to me. I figured I’d need to be shown multiple times before I felt comfortable putting it on. Violet had brought some of her makeup, thinking I might not have any of my own, which I didn’t. Yet.
I already felt like I was moving at light speed. Every time I saw myself in the mirror I paused, startled by the stranger looking back at me. This new person still took some getting used to. I’d told Violet that it was just hair, but it was more. It signaled the shedding of my old life. When Momma died, the padlock to my jail cell fell off, making me free. While I burst out running with my freedom, every once in a while I had to stop and figure out where I’d run to.
When Violet finished applying my makeup, which was thankfully very little, she gave me a good look-over and declared me ready. I still had twenty minutes until Steve showed up.
“So what’s Steve look like?” I asked, putting away the clothes I had pulled out earlier.
“He’s got blond hair and blue eyes and is cute as a button.”
Granted, I was new to the whole dating world but cute as a button didn’t sound like the way a woman wanted her date described.
Violet planted herself in a chair and turned on the television.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She flipped through channels with the remote. “I’m searching for a show that isn’t animated and doesn’t involve cars or guns.”
“But why are you searching for it here?”
She glanced up and smiled, wickedness twinkling in her eyes. “Because I can’t watch that at home. If I didn’t know better, Rose, I would suspect you’re tryin’ to get rid of me.”
She was right. I wished she’d leave, but technically, it was her house now, a subject we still needed to address. But not right at that moment, minutes before Steve showed up.
“You’re not going to embarrass me are you?”
She touched her hand to her chest and her eyes grew wide with fake innocence. “Of course not.”
“I’m warnin’ you Violet Mae, you embarrass me when he shows up and I’m not leaving with him.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I won’t embarrass you. I just want to make sure you get off okay, since it’s your first date and all.”
I grumbled and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, unable to stop myself from looking out the window into Joe’s backyard. The dog wasn't there and when I craned my neck to look out the front, I didn’t see his girlfriend’s car either.
A loud thumping on the front door broke my concentration and I smacked my head into the window. Steve was early. Rubbing my forehead, I walked to the front door while I shot a look of warning at Violet, who was already getting up. She sat down in the chair, a grin on her face. I grasped the doorknob, took a deep breath, and opened it.
Joe stood in front of me, wearing a sheepish look. I turned back around to see Violet stretching her neck, trying to get a look out the opening.
“It’s not him. I’ll be back in a second.” I slipped out the door and shut it behind me. “What are you doin’ here?” I hissed. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”
“Rose, that’s why I’m here…to explain.” The look on his face told me he was prepared to do a lot of digging to get himself out of his mess.
I had to admit he looked good, really good, but I couldn’t let his looks sway me. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say. You tricked me into thinking you liked me.” I kept my back to the door and I turned the knob to go inside.
“But I do like you, Rose, if you’ll just let me explain.”
“I don't have time for your explanation. My date will show up any minute and I don’t want you standing here when he does.”
“Your date?” The expression on his face said that was the last thing he expected to hear.
I walked closer to him. “What? You think I'm incapable of gettin’ a date, Joe McAllister? Is that why you thought you could lie to me when you really had a girlfriend?”
His eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine surprise. “No, Rose, of course not, and I didn’t lie. I swear.”
I opened the door and looked over my shoulder at him. “Go swear somewhere else, Joe. I don’t wanna hear it.”
I shut the door on him, amazed at myself for standing up to him, even if I was shaking.
“What was that all about?” Violet asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said walking away. “Don’t you need to be goin’ somewhere?” I was irritated that I let Joe get to me. I didn’t want to go on my first date in a foul mood. I hid the bathroom and tried to calm my nerves when I heard another knock a few minutes later.
“I’ll get it!” Violet called from the living room.
“No, you won’t!” I said, hurrying out of the bathroom. “I’ll get it.” I stopped at the door and took a deep breath before I opened it.
Mildred stood in the doorway. I groaned and instantly regretted it.
“Now listen here, young lady. I knowed you been raised betta than that. And don’t think your little show on the front porch the other night escaped my notice.”
I doubted I could juggle fruit on the front porch at three a.m. and escape Mildred’s notice. “I’m sorry, Miss Mildred. I was expecting someone else.”
“Yeah, the playboy that moved in next door to ya, huh? Well, I seen he’s already been here too. I’m surprised you two weren’t performin’ vile acts in broad daylight again.”
All I needed was for Steve to show up and hear Mildred talking about me making out with Joe. I turned to Violet in desperation, but she had already gotten out of the chair and walked up behind me.
“Well, hello, Miss Mildred! What do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?” Violet’s cheerful voice cut the tension in the air.
“I saw your car in the driveway and wanted to come tell you hello.”
I sincerely doubted the truthfulness of that statement. Violet’s car had been in the driveway all afternoon.
Violet put her hand on Mildred’s arm and pulled her through the front door. “How sweet of you! Why don't you come in and have a glass of tea with me?”
“Don’t forget to put your jam away when you get home,” I told Mildred, silently cursing my visions while I shut the door.
Mildred grumbled as she moved past me, giving me an evil glare. She had never hid the fact that she shared Momma’s belief in my demon possession. Violet gave me a wink as they left the room. I had to admit, I owed her.
There was another knock. My front door had seen more action in one evening than it had in the last two months. I took another deep breath and opened it, half expecting to see Joe again. Instead, I saw the Pillsbury Doughboy, or as close to what I’d ever see in real life. He was missing the chef’s hat and the kerchief, but his face was a pasty white and chubby, with big wide eyes like the Doughboy. His button-down shirt barely contained his wide, round gut, and the buttons threatened to pop. I resisted the urge to poke his belly with my finger to hear him giggle.
“Rose?” he asked, his voice shaking from fear. At least I think it was fear, from the look of pure terror on his face.
Nope, no giggling.
“Steve?” I asked, but I already knew it was him from the tie he wore and the Walmart flowers he held in his hand. Either that or he was a really generous Jehovah’s Witness. “It’s very nice to meet you.” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
He stood in silence, staring at me with his big round eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” I raised my eyebrows in a happy, questioning look.
He remained rooted to the porch. It occurred to me perhaps Joe or Mildred had applied Super Glue on the wood slats.
“I’ll just grab my purse.” I said and he thrust the flowers toward me. “Oh, are those for me? Why, thank you!” I took the flowers, leaving the door open and Steve on the porch.
“Here!” I shoved the flowers at Violet in the kitchen. “Take care of these.”
Violet’s face lit up like a kid getting cotton candy at the carnival. “He brought you flowers?”
I glared at her.
“Who brought y’all flowers? The devil next door?”
“No, Miss Mildred.” Violet said, patting Mildred’s arm. “It’s Rose’s date.”
“Date?” Mildred crowed. “After she carried on with that Yankee?”
“Don’t worry, Miss Mildred. Steve’s a good boy, good Henryetta stock. He’s Stan Morris’ grandson.”
I already regretted agreeing to this date and I hadn’t even left yet. I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door before Mildred and Violet decided to start checking Steve’s teeth. He stood exactly where I left him, wearing the same terrified expression, except he leaned to the side. I worried he would fall over trying to see something in the living room.
“Looking for something?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
If possible, his eyes got even bigger as he violently shook his head.
I shut the door as I realized what he was looking for—evidence of Momma’s murder. We started walking across the porch to the steps and I caught the glance he shot my direction, a look of fear. He thinks I killed Momma. There was no way I could go out with him. What I couldn't figure out is why he agreed to go out with me in the first place.
I stood next to the passenger door of Steve’s car. “Steve, I…” My words stopped on my tongue. Joe sat on his front porch, drinking a beer and watching my every move with a suspicious glint in his eye.
Crappy doodles.
Steve waited for me to finish.
I smiled up at him with my sweetest smile, which I hoped would convince him I was incapable of murdering anyone, least of all my own Momma. “I just wanted to tell you how delighted I am that you’re taking me out to dinner.” I said loud enough for Joe to hear. To finish it off, I raised up on my toes and kissed Steve on his pasty cheek, surprised it didn’t taste like biscuit dough. I hoped Joe didn't see Steve cringe at the contact.
I sat in the front seat, waiting for Steve to get in, smiling my fake happy smile. I was almost surprised to see him get in, half expecting him to run screaming down the street. I had to admit he had a nice car, one he probably didn't want to leave behind with a murderer. If I could murder my own Momma, I bet he could only imagine what I would do to his poor Buick.
We drove to the restaurant in silence, me fidgeting with my hands on my lap and Steve griping the steering wheel with both hands, hanging on for dear life. He occasionally darted looks toward me out of the corner of his eye as if I was gonna attack him at any moment.
Steve pulled into the parking lot of Jaspers, one of Henryetta’s nicest restaurants, which wasn’t saying much. People in Henryetta weren’t that fancy, in spite of all their bloodline talk. But Jaspers was a decent steak house, or so I heard. I’d never been there.
Steve opened my car door and the door to the restaurant, like a good upstanding boy from the South would. Any Southern mother who found out her son didn't hold a door open for a female of any age would get his ears boxed, regardless of the woman’s criminal history.
After we were seated, I appraised Steve while he scoured his menu. He wasn’t an unattractive man, just plenty soft around the edges and then some. He didn't see much sun either, from the look of his skin. I had suspected electricians were a little rougher. More like Joe, a thought I instantly squashed down.
There was no Joe.
“So Steve, Violet tells me you’re an electrician,” I said in a voice so sugar-laden that I expected to be attacked by a swarm of honeybees. Someone had to start a conversation or I would choke on the fear oozing out of Steve’s pores.
He looked up startled. “Yeah.” Then he jerked his head back down again.
I sighed. This was gonna be a long night.
“I’ve never been here before. Do you recommend anything?”
He mumbled something inaudible.
I debated letting it go but decided I’d make him talk to me whether he wanted to or not. Then I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and burst out laughing.
Steve’s head popped up, wide-eyed, mouth dropping open. He looked like he expected me to start waving a rolling pin around any minute. I wondered again why he asked me out. Then it came to me, as obvious as Suzanne’s bleached hair. Mike was Steve’s boss. Mike had forced him into it.
I was on a pity date. Only worse.
Just when I was about to excuse myself to the restroom, the waitress showed up to take our drink orders. Steve mumbled his drink to the waitress, who had to ask him to repeat it twice. I ordered water. I almost ordered wine, to knock number nine off my list, but didn't want to waste it on Steve.
“So, Steve, how long have you worked for Mike?”
Still looking down, Steve mumbled something.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you. What was that?”
“Four years.”
The waitress returned with our drinks and took our orders. Disappointment dampened my hunger, but I decided to get a big dinner and take the leftovers home. I felt a momentary bit of guilt over spending Steve’s money frivolously, but decided he could deal with it. Sure, he might be miserable, but so was I.
Rose Gardner was done accepting miserable.
I ordered a big steak with a baked potato and a salad. The waitress walked away and Steve no longer had his menu to hide behind.
We sat in silence, despite my continued attempts at getting him to talk. Finally, I gave up. I checked out the decor and the other patrons. My eyes roamed halfway around the room stopping for a couple of minutes on a big group celebrating someone’s birthday. I smiled, wishing I was with them, and then my gaze moved a couple of tables away.
I locked eyes with Daniel Crocker, the man that triggered my vision at the DMV. He sat with four other men. The others were involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation, but he watched me with open curiosity. I looked away, a blush beginning to flush my cheeks. Did he know who I was?
I excused myself to go to the restroom. Steve looked eager for me to go, and I rushed down the hall. Why would Daniel Crocker be looking at me? Was he the one who murdered my mother? I couldn't imagine that he knew it was me. Even if he remembered me from the DMV, I looked completely different now.
Violet had put a compact of powder and tube of lipstick in my purse. I applied both, taking an ample amount of time on each. When I couldn’t stall any longer, I went back out to the table only to find Steve’s chair empty.
I sat down, wondering if he had gone to the bathroom, too. After a few minutes, the waitress returned with my food. She looked apologetic.
“Your date said he suddenly didn't feel well and had to go. But he paid for your dinner and left money for you to take a taxi home.”
I felt like crying although, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t even like him. But if someone like him dumped me, then I really was a pathetic loser.
“Could you just box it up?” I asked. “I think I’ll take it to go.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “In fact, I’ll just wait out front.” I couldn’t stand the embarrassment of waiting alone at the table.
She patted my arm. “For what it’s worth, sweetie, you can do a whole lot better than that weasel. You go wait in the bar. My name’s Bridgette. Tell the bartender I sent you over and he’ll take care of you. I’ll box this up and bring it over. ”
The crowded bar roared with conversation, not surprising on a Saturday night. I spotted an open stool at the counter and sat down. The bartender walked over.
“What can I get for ya, darlin’?”
“Um, Bridgette said to tell you she sent me over.” I had no idea why, but I couldn’t see a reason not to tell him.
“Oh, so you’re her.” He looked me over. “Bridgette told me what happened. I can’t figure out why a guy would walk away from you, darlin’. His loss.” He shook his head. “Drink’s on the house. What’s it gonna be?”
“Uh, a glass of wine?”
“Red? White?”
I had no idea. “White?”
“Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio…” his list continued and I was lost. He saw the confusion on my face and laughed. “Not a wine drinker, eh?”
He was a burly looking guy, with tattoos and piercings, but he had a friendly face. His nametag said Sloan. For whatever reason, I trusted him. “Honestly, I’m not really a drinker at all. I only had my first drink a few days ago.”
“Ah, a virgin in our midst.”
I felt my face burn and only seconds later realized he meant a virgin drinker.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take good care of you. Be right back.”
I waited for Sloan to return with my drink, when I heard a voice in my ear.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ alone? Where’d that Great White Whale get off to?”
I turned around, half expecting Joe to be standing behind me. Instead, it was Daniel Crocker. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Uh…”
He slid in between my stool and the one next to me, which was occupied by a woman deep in conversation with the man beside her.
He leaned his head close to mine. “I’m Dan. What’s your name?”
I froze in panic. I knew I had to say something. “Rose.”
“Ah, a fittin’ name for a beautiful flower such as yourself. Can I get you a drink?”
“I…I already have one. Coming. He’s bringin’ it.” I was babbling like an idiot. I had to get it together.
He laughed. “Do I make you nervous, Rose?”
I resisted the urge to bolt from the room and run all the way home. I had to find out if he had something to do with Momma’s murder, or at the very least if he recognized me. The latter was answered immediately.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” He tilted his head to the side to study me. “You look so familiar.”
I shook my head. “No, I don't think so. I’m sure I would remember you.” He looked different than he did in the DMV. That Friday afternoon, he had been scruffy and unshaven. Tonight he was cleaned up and I had to admit he looked much better, but he exuded an aura that left me feeling oily.
“I’m usually pretty good with faces and I’m sure I’ve seen yours, I just can’t figure out where. Hmm….”
Sloan returned with my wine and glanced at Daniel, then raised his eyebrows. My eyes widened and I hope I conveyed my concern. Sloan’s smile fell and he engaged in a stare-off with Daniel. “What can I get for you, Dan?”
I about fell off my stool when I realized Sloan knew him.
“I’ll take a draft beer, and if I can work it out, this pretty little thing.”
Sloan leaned forward looking into Dan’s face, all friendliness gone. If I had walked in and encountered this Sloan, I would have waited in the lobby instead of at the bar. “This here’s my little sister. I suggest you go pick up some other ‘pretty little thing'.”
Daniel Crocker’s body jerked, his face turning a bright red that I suspected wasn’t from embarrassment. He and Sloan glared at each other a bit longer. Daniel’s eyelid twitched. His face lit up with an evil grin. “It’s not like she was wearing a fuckin’ sign or anything.” He left without his beer.
“Thanks,” I said, humiliated that I needed saving. I had to admit I wasn't sorry he left even if I hadn't gotten any information out of him.
Sloan watched him walk away then gave me a half-hearted smile. “Well, since you told me you were new to drinkin’, that pretty much told me you were new to hanging out in a bar, too. You gotta watch out for guys like him. They’ll see you as fresh meat, no offense.”
“None taken.” I was clueless to the minds of men.
“You look really green. They’ll latch on and try to take advantage of you. If you’re gonna hang out in bars, you’re gonna need to be more assertive.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll keep an eye on ya. When you’re ready to go, just let me know and I’ll call a taxi.”
“Thanks, Sloan.” I took a sip of my wine while I tried to calm my nerves. I welcomed the warm tingly feeling, but decided I would only have one. I couldn’t risk acting like I had with Joe. Heavens knew that someone like Dan wouldn’t stop because I was drunk, making me appreciate what Joe had done that much more.
Melancholy washed over me thinking about Joe, bringing confusion with it. I thought he liked me until I found out he had a girlfriend. I tried to cheer myself up knowing I had just taken care of two more things, drinking wine and going to a bar. Five items done. Twenty-three to go. But sadness overshadowed my joy.
I asked Sloan to call for a cab.
I gave myself a pep talk during the short taxi ride home. First, Daniel Crocker was some weird coincidence and had nothing to do with Momma's murder. While I had to admit he was slimy, my overactive imagination tied him to her death. Surely, murderers didn't lounge around bars trying to pick up women. Wouldn't they be hiding out?
Second, it was Steve’s loss. I wasn’t the only woman to have an awful date, even an awful first date. I could do better. There were other fish in the sea. And all those other idioms. I actually felt better when the driver pulled up in front of my house. Until I discovered Joe still sitting on his front porch. I got out and walked to the side door, trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
“Where’d your date go?” Joe called out.
Ignore him.
“Did you kill him before he could bring you home?”
I wanted to tell him that murder was nothing to joke about, but had to admit that Steve being so scared of me was a tiny bit funny, especially since I was half his size.
“You’re goin’ to run out of rolling pins soon.”
I jerked my head around and glared at him. Don’t answer him! I fumbled in my purse, looking for my keys, cursing myself for not digging them out in the cab. I found them and hurried to open the locks—the locks Joe installed for me—before I did something I would regret. My heart was already beginning to soften. That wasn't good.
“Rose, can’t we just talk about it? Please?” His tone had changed, the teasing gone. I wanted to talk to him so bad, and do even more with him something fierce, but I couldn't trust him and I didn't trust me. I went inside, shutting the door behind me.
Joe McAllister couldn’t be part of my life.