Chapter 37
Lillian snatched the glue gun out of Latisha’s hands, wrapped the electrical cord around it, and stuck it back in the sack. Then she reached up and put the sack on top of the refrigerator.
“It’s goin’ right back where it come from,” she said. Then, glaring at Latisha, she went on. “What you tell Miss Hazel Marie so she send you such a thing?”
Latisha’s face puckered up in a scowl as she wailed, “I know how to use it! She showed me real good, an’ she let me glue some flowers on her frame, so I can do it, Granny!”
“You better cut that out, little girl,” Lillian said, “an’ start behavin’ yourself. That thing burn you up, an’ no way in the world you gonna be playin’ with it.”
“Well,” Latisha said, sniffing loudly. “Well, can I use it if somebody helps me? I’m outta luck if you don’t, ’cause nothin’ else’ll make my shells stick.”
Lillian thought about it, then gave in. “Well, I reckon so, if it’s somebody knows what they doin’.”
Latisha’s face brightened as she glanced around. “Lloyd?”
“Uh-uh,” he said, backing away. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know how.”
Latisha pouted about that, then said, “Then I’ll jus’ have to pack all this stuff up an’ go over to Miss Hazel Marie’s again. She the onliest one that knows anything.”
Lillian leaned over her and said, “Latisha, you ’bout to get too big for your britches, so you better find yourself something else to do. Now clean up the mess on this table ’fore you do anything.”
Sam had quietly taken himself out of the kitchen while this was going on, and I was just about to follow him. Latisha was usually amenable to whatever was suggested, but she was dead set on creating some kind of surprise for somebody with her shells. It was unlike her to pitch a fit when thwarted, but she slowly began to mind her great-grandmother, putting the shells in a bag and wadding up the Elmer’s glue–splotched newspaper.
“I guess,” Latisha said, heaving a mournful sigh, “I’ll jus’ have to go watch television, but it won’t do me no good like makin’ something would.”
Lillian just shook her head, murmuring, “Lord, give me strength,” as Latisha stomped off.
“Maybe,” I said to encourage Lillian, “when the rain stops, they’ll find something to do outside. And, think of this, Lillian, school starts next week.”
“Yes’m,” Lillian said, “an’ it can’t come soon enough.” Then she laughed. “That chile gonna be the death of me.”
“Better by her, I guess, than by that bunion you had. How’s your foot doing, anyway?”
“It doin’ good. The doctor, he say I got to crip along on this cask for a little while longer, then it be cured. I sure am gettin’ tired of it, though.”
I poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter to drink it. “What’s the latest on Thurlow Jones? Have you heard anything?”
“Well, it been a week since he got operated on, an’ the hospital want rid of him. They say they gonna send him to some place that keep him longer, an’ he don’t wanta go.” Lillian scrubbed a pot, then, without looking at me, she said, “He call me las’ night.”
“Thurlow called you? Why?”
“He want me to come work for him so he can come home. He say he match what you pay, an’ go up a little.”
Outraged, I said, “Why, that sneaky, underhanded old man! What a nerve! The very idea!” Then, the thought of Lillian leaving us brought me up short. “What did you say?”
“Well, I didn’t say what I was thinkin’, ’cause I wouldn’t work for that ole man for all the tea in China. So what I say was I already got a good job, but I try to find somebody to help him out. But, Miss Julia,” Lillian said, turning to me, “won’t nobody come work for him no matter how much he pay. Nobody can put up with him. I jus’ don’t know what he’ll do, ’cause he too crazy an’ everybody know it.”
“That’s a real relief. Oh, I don’t mean because nobody will work for him, but that you won’t. But by the way, what’s happened to that old dog of his? What was his name? Ronnie?”
“Yes’m, they say he out in a kennel somewhere, an’ he pinin’ for that ole man. So you know that dog be the first thing he bring home when he get home hisself. An’ that mean whoever work for him gotta work for that dog, too.”
“Well, I guess I ought to go visit him wherever they put him. Thurlow, I mean, not Ronnie. But, I’ll tell you this, it’ll be all I can do not to knock him out of the bed with my pocketbook. The very idea of going behind my back to try to hire you! And I’ll tell you another thing, Lillian, if you’re ever tempted to take another job, tell me first. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t need to worry ’bout that, Miss Julia. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Won’t nobody else put up with Latisha like you do.”
We laughed together, I with a great lessening of anxiety over the thought of losing Lillian, and she with the rueful patience needed to raise a grandchild.
Sam walked in then, smiling at our laughter. “Lillian, if you’re at a stopping place with dinner, let’s go get your car. They should have it ready by now, and I want to ride around with you a little to be sure you’re comfortable with it.”
“Yessir, Mr. Sam,” Lillian said, folding a dish cloth, “I can put everything on low an’ it be all right. Lemme go get Latisha. She’ll wanta ride in that new car.”
“Well, call Lloyd, too, if you will. He helped pick it out.” Then, turning to me, Sam said, “Come go with us, honey.”
“No, I think I’ll stay here. You’ll have a full car without me. And I sure don’t want to distract Lillian from learning where the light switch is or the windshield wiper.”
Lloyd and Latisha, boisterous and excited about the new car, ran through the kitchen on their way to Sam’s car. Sam would drive to the dealership where they’d transfer to Lillian’s car for her test drive.
Just as I thought I’d have a few minutes of quiet, Latisha bounced back inside. Snatching her little red purse off the back of a chair where she’d hung it, she slung it on her shoulder. “Got to take my pocketbook,” she sang out, then let the door slam behind her.
Welcoming again a few quiet minutes, I walked into the library and looked out the back window at the soaked yard. As much rain as we’d had the last few days, everything was drenched—tree limbs dripping, water puddling in low spots, and flowering plants looking stripped. But no rain was falling at the moment, though the sky was still gray and foreboding.
“Maybe,” I said to myself as I left the window, “we’ll have a beautiful Indian summer to make up for this.”
Just as I got comfortable on the sofa, the phone rang.
“Julia?” LuAnne said as soon as I answered. Breathing heavily, she hurried on. “Julia, I’ve narrowed it down, but I need your help to confirm it.”
I hesitated. “Confirm what?”
“Why, who it is, of course. I told you, I’ve been following him every day, and he’s so oblivious he doesn’t even know it. But I’ll tell you this, he is not the homebody I thought he was. This is the second day—second this week, Julia—that he’s been here, so I know this is where he meets her. And I’m going to catch him in the act if it’s the last thing I do.”
Wondering where here was, I mumbled, “Well, I’m not sure. . . .”
“Don’t back out on me now, because I have everything worked out, and all you have to do is exactly what I tell you.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll tell you later. I’ll call you tomorrow, probably about midmorning, so you be ready to go. I’ll pick you up and we’ll follow him. Then I’ll tell you what to do.”
No longer hesitant, I was now alarmed. “LuAnne, I don’t think—”
“Just be ready.” And she hung up, leaving me holding a dead phone and probably the bag, as well.
What in the world was she going to do? And why did she need me to help her do it? I jumped up and began to pace from one side of the library to the other. It was a fact that LuAnne had a one-track mind. When she took on a project, she pursued it to the bitter end.
One thing was sure, though, I did not want to be involved in whatever that end was. Who knew what would ensue? Creating a scene or causing a spectacle could be the least of it. Maybe I should be somewhere else tomorrow when she called. But even as I considered absenting myself, I knew I wouldn’t fail her. I would answer when she called and try my best to keep her from ruining her life. As for Leonard’s life? Well, he was on his own. The old goat.
Hearing the clamour of Lillian, Sam, and the children returning from their joyride, I hurried to the kitchen to hear all about it.
“You oughtta see that car!” Latisha’s voice had edged up to the deafening level. “Miss Lady, it’s the best car in the world!”
“Well, I’m glad you like it, Latisha.” Then, turning to Lillian, I asked, “How about you, Lillian? Do you like it?”
She was beaming. “I never thought I’d see the day I’d get a new car an’ a new roof in the same week. Yes, ma’am, I like it. It crank right up when you turn the key, an’ it stop when you want it to. Thank you, Miss Julia, an’ you, too, Mr. Sam. You real good at pickin’ out cars.”
Lloyd was standing around, grinning at the delight of Lillian and Latisha. Sam touched my elbow and nodded toward the library. Leaving the others to recount the features of the new car—Latisha yelling about a radio with push buttons—I followed Sam out of the kitchen.
“Everything all right?” I asked when I reached him.
“I’m not sure,” Sam said, a note of concern in his voice. “We left my car at the dealership and transferred to the minivan. I had Lillian drive in traffic out on the boulevard, then on the interstate to the first off-ramp, then back into town to the dealership. She did well, but the minivan is a little longer than her old car, so it’ll take some getting used to. We sat for a few minutes when we got back while I made sure she knew where everything was.”
“So how did she do? Are you saying you’re worried about her driving?”
“No, no,” Sam said, waving his hand. “She did fine. No, what I’m worried about is the black Suburban that seemed to pick us up on the boulevard and followed us onto the interstate. It didn’t follow us off, but it was pretty obvious that we were heading back to town.”
“Could you tell if it was the one we’ve been seeing?”
He shook his head. “No, there was no way to be sure. It was the same make with tinted windows that Lloyd has seen, but that’s not enough for a definite identification. I’ll admit, though, that seeing what looked like the same one apparently following us spooked me a little.”
“Oh, my goodness, Sam, don’t tell me that. If you’re spooked, then I’m scared to death.”