CHAPTER
twenty
Dolly was nearly frantic. Along with the usual work to be done, she was checking her pantry to see how much cornmeal, flour, sugar, and lard she needed and calculating whether she could keep her boarders fed and still put back some money for the property taxes that would be due before she could turn around.
“Hey, Dolly, you in here?” Daisy called.
Dolly stepped out of the pantry to find Daisy and Reed in her kitchen. “Oh! Bless your hearts! Would y’all mind runnin’ to the mercantile for me?”
“No problem,” Reed said.
“Got a list for us?” Daisy asked.
Dolly pulled a grocery list, money, and ration coupons out of her apron pocket and handed them to Daisy.
“Ella needs my coupons, or I’d give ’em to you,” Daisy said.
“You can have mine,” Reed said. “We should be able to get whatever you need.”
“Thank you, thank you!” Dolly said.
“Hey, where’s Anna?” Daisy asked. “I ain’t seen her all day.”
“She found an old poetry anthology that belonged to my mother and decided that if she couldn’t read any more about Catherine, she’d at least read what Catherine was readin’ the last time she wrote in her journal. She’s upstairs with ‘The Lady of Shalott.’ Want me to call her?”
“That’s okay. Let her have a little Catherine time. See you later.”
Inside the mercantile, Daisy introduced Wally Trimble to Reed. “I don’t remember seein’ you around here before,” Wally said, “but somethin’ about you sure looks familiar.”
Daisy handed Dolly’s list to Wally, who sent his stock boy to bring their groceries to the counter.
“My family lived here when I was a boy, but we moved away a long time ago,” Reed explained. “My daddy’s Vern Ingram.”
“Sure ’nough! Why, I went to school with Vern ’n’ Si. Even now I still say their names together the way we all did back then—Vern ’n’ Si—’cause they was best buddies all through school. Even left for the Army on the very same day, but they shipped out in different directions. Where’d you all move to?”
“My mother inherited a farm in north Alabama, up around Florence. We moved there when I was twelve.”
“Is that right? Well, you be sure and tell your daddy Wally Trimble said hello, okay?”
Reed smiled. “I will.” He reached for his wallet as the stock boy delivered their dry goods and lard to the counter.
“Lemme see now, we got sugar an’ flour an’ cornmeal an’ lard . . . that’ll be 6-0-9.”
Reed stared at Wally and didn’t speak.
“Six dollars and nine cents,” Wally repeated.
Still Reed didn’t move.
“Grab your gear and spread out! We’re goin’ up!”
“Son?” Wally said.
Reed felt his hands begin to tremble and sweat as he stood frozen, holding the wallet.
“Oh, I know what the trouble is,” Daisy said, taking the wallet from his hands. “I forgot to tell him I’ve got Dolly’s grocery money and ration coupons, so we just need to get his coupons outta here. There you go, Wally—bet you gave Reed a fright when you quoted him that price. Prob’ly thought we’d have to sweep the store to work off our groceries.”
“Ha! Sorry about that, son!”
“I . . . I thank you for the groceries and . . . and next time I’ll count my money before I get here.”
“There you go!” Wally said. “But now you can always count on me to spot a veteran a few dollars. Don’t forget to tell your daddy I said hey.”
“I won’t.”
The stock boy loaded their groceries into the back of Reed’s pickup and disappeared into the store. Reed opened Daisy’s door for her and closed it but couldn’t take his hands off of it. He feared that if he turned loose, he might go sailing off into oblivion.
“How ’bout I drive?” Daisy said.
He nodded, handed her the keys, and climbed into the passenger seat as she slid beneath the wheel. She drove in silence as Reed stared out his window, letting the hot summer wind blow in his face.
When Daisy stopped the truck, he came out of his haze and looked around. “Where are we?”
“Saxon’s.”
“We’re in Childersburg?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because now that I know how much money you’ve got squirreled away in that wallet, you’re gonna buy me a chili dog and a milkshake.”
Reed tried to smile. “Always knew you were a gold digger.”
“Fork it over. What you want?”
“Whatever you get’ll be fine.”
Daisy took his money and walked to the front window to order. She had situated the truck away from the parking lot, under the shade of tall pine trees facing the river. How had he crossed over without even noticing?
When Daisy came back, she spread napkins on the truck seat between them, laid out their chili dogs and French fries, and set their milkshakes on the floorboard next to the gearshift.
Reed took a bite of his chili dog. “Oh man,” he said. “I forgot how good these are.”
Daisy nodded. “I know. They get all over you, but it’s worth it.”
They were quiet for a while, enjoying their food and watching the river glide by. Finally, Daisy spoke. “I read about ’em, you know—the places they sent you. Kasserine Pass and that awful hill—the one they call 609.”
Reed felt an adrenaline rush just hearing the name. “I don’t think . . . I can talk about it.”
“No need to. I just wanted you to know that I understand what happened back there at the store. I won’t ever know what you went through on that hill or at that pass, but I get what happened at the store. And I don’t want you to feel weird about it.”
“Hard not to feel weird when you act crazy.”
“Hard not to feel crazy when you act weird—like wearin’ overalls every day o’ your life.”
Reed had to smile. “About those overalls o’ yours . . .”
“Don’t you start on me too. I catch enough flak from Anna and Dolly. Let’s just say these are my version of a black dress.”
“I’m not complainin’.”
They sat together in silence, watching the noontime sunlight on the river, before she said, “You look real tired, Reed.”
“I feel tired. Every time I go back there in my mind, I just feel so . . . defeated. Like I’ll never get offa that bloody hill as long as I live. I just wanna forget it. I want that so bad.”
“How long were you over there?”
“Two years.”
“And how long have you been back?”
“Since January.”
“But you’re already walkin’ without a cane.”
“Because you worked with me so much.”
“And I almost never see you go back there in your head.”
“Usually happens at night.”
“But still—don’t you think that’s at least somethin’?”
Reed reached down and took a sip of his milkshake but didn’t say anything.
“Maybe forgettin’s too big a mountain to climb just yet,” Daisy went on. “Maybe you could just learn how to handle rememberin’—a little bit at a time. That ain’t gonna be an easy climb either, so you gotta give yourself time.”
“Daisy, what on earth are you doin’ here with me? You’ve had enough troubles of your own, and now you’re takin’ on mine.”
She sighed and looked out at the river. “I used to spend a whole lotta time doin’ what other people expected me to. But now, I don’t do anything I don’t wanna do. And I don’t go anywhere I don’t wanna go. Life’s too short.” She turned to face Reed. “I’m where I wanna be or I wouldn’t be here. How ’bout you?”
She was giving him that look again—like the first time he’d met her on the creek and she had stared at him as if she could read his mind.
He nodded. “Me too.”
“Guess we better get Dolly her delivery?”
“Guess so.”
“You wanna trade places and drive?” she asked as the two of them stuffed chili dog wrappers and napkins into a paper bag.
More than anything right now, he wanted to make her laugh. “You’re doin’ okay, I guess—for a girl.”
It worked, thank heaven. Daisy laughed. “Watch it or you’ll be ridin’ back there with the lard.”
They drove back over the bridge they had crossed together, retreating to the safety of Dolly’s house.