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Mack recalled hearing the wind shift in the night and sensing it was a front moving in from the Gulf. Now, standing under the willow tree in the front yard, he could taste salt and feel moisture in the air. He was glad he’d finished the outside work on the house the day before. The windows were caulked, a fresh coat of Hunter Green paint covered the sills and the front porch, undergrowth and trees were trimmed.
As he walked to his Bronco, he paused to admire his handiwork. The old Craftsman had weathered the elements nicely, and the five acres fenced off as a yard looked more like a park than a wood. Beyond the yard, the twenty-acre pasture was trimmed short as a man’s beard. Each year, his grandfather had it baled it and used the receipts to pay the taxes. Working hard to achieve just the right mix of alfalfa to grass, he’d produced a bale that brought top dollar from horse people: timothy grass mixed with just enough sweet alfalfa to be nutritious but not so rich that a horse would founder and ruin its feet. The pasture was the old man’s pride and joy.
Surveying the place, Mack was put more in mind of an English estate than a backcountry farmstead. He told himself that feeder calves would probably bring in more money than hay, then quickly dismissed the idea. Even a couple of head would ravage such a small piece of land, leading to overgrazing and weed growth. Abruptly, something fluttered behind his eyelids, like a yellow sticky note stuck on a refrigerator door, and he recalibrated his thinking.
Place will belong to someone else before long, he thought. New owners will be making those decisions.
He went back to surveying the results of his labor. No two ways about it, things were coming together. A quick paint job inside and he would be finished. It was time to give Roxie Komenski another call to see if they could come to terms—and see what she had been able to negotiate with the builder.
This morning. I’ll call her right after Mama and Sister look at that duplex.
Hearing a noise, he turned and saw his mother and aunt making their way toward his Bronco. He’d made an attempt to convert the SUV to a vehicle meant for people instead of a bachelor’s trappings, but it still carried the scent of stale beer cans, Vienna sausages, and Fritos.
Settling Sister into the back seat and his mother up front, he was passing the state pen outside McAlester a half hour later and reprimanding himself for not taking a different route. One that wouldn’t bring up bad memories. He glanced his mother’s way, but she stared out the window, seemingly unperturbed. But then, he reflected, she hadn’t said a word since they left the home place. He was being given the silent treatment. He looked into the rearview mirror where he could see the face of his aunt, thinking that even the Bill-and-Jack thing was falling into place.
“That was good news, Sister. About the doubletree, I mean.
“Hadn’t thought about that in years. Funny how things come back.”
He nodded. “Save a whole lot of time, you could remember where that was. I wonder if Pa stuck the pieces in the ground or constructed a cross for Bill and Jack.”
“A cross—” Ruby came to life. “Pa wouldn’t have done such a thing.” She hesitated, looking toward her sister. “Would he have done such a thing?”
“Can’t remember, we moved around too much. Besides, one place looked pretty much like the other.”
Mack recognized an opportunity waiting to be taken. “Speaking of places, I think you’ll like the one you see today. Brand-spanking new.”
“That’s what you said,” Sister replied. “Don’t know why you want to do this for us, but it’s right nice of you.”
“Safety. You’re too far from doctors and hospitals. And don’t forget that prison break.”
“Oh, not that many anymore. What do you figure, Ruby? Maybe a dozen in as many years?”
“Can count the breaks we’ve had in the last ten years on one hand.”
Mack decided silence was the best response. Putting his foot to the pedal, the gated community soon came into view. He stopped at the security hut, took the pass he was issued, and drove toward the open house he’d arranged for his mother and aunt to look at.
“Take a look around,” he said as he drove. “There’s a fence all the way around the place and patrols run day and night. No need to keep a shotgun anymore.”
Ruby gave him a sharp look then turned back to the window. Unable to decipher that look, Mack parked in front of the show home and led the way to the front porch where a guide waited. She introduced herself as Mary Jane.
“So we’d have a neighbor on one side?” Sister asked her, indicating the adjacent unit.
“That’s right,” Mary Jane said. ”Let’s start with the entrance. Note the overhang that will keep you dry as you unlock the front door.”
Mack figured the slender young woman guide was still in high school and this was a part-time job for her. The rote manner she used to describe the place indicated she was still learning her lines.
“There are two patio homes per unit. They are joined with a double-wide . . .” Mary Jane paused, her eyes blinking as though reading an invisible user’s guide. “No, double-thick walls. That ensures privacy, but you have someone right close if you need assistance. Now, let me show you the living room.” She held one arm out stiffly, as a movie usher would do.
“Hope the neighbors are nice people,” Sister said, stepping through the front door.
“Probably nosy,” Ruby said.
Mary Jane took over again. “No, there’s double-wide—I mean, double-wall construction between the units, so it shouldn’t be noisy at all.”
Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say noisy—”
“Mama,” Mack whispered. “The girl’s just doing her job.”
“Looks like our furniture would set in here all right,” Sister said. “Wouldn’t go real well with the color of this rug though. What color you call this?”
“Sierra Gold,” Mary Jane said. “You can choose this or Sage Green. There’s a sample of it at the office.”
Mack recognized another opportunity waiting to be taken. “How ‘bout you two pick out a new davenport? A sleeper sofa that would go with the carpet you want. Maybe put it right there across from the front window so you could look outside.”
Ruby walked to the front window. “Look at what? Other duplexes like this one?”
Come on, Mama, Mack thought. Chill out. Walking up to his mother, he laid a hand on her shoulder and felt more than just her coolness. He made a mental note to make sure the builder caulked the windows on the unit he bought.
Mary Jane chose that moment to become technical. “They’re called patio homes, not duplexes. Want to see the patio?” She walked into the kitchen and took up a stance at the sliding glass door.
Ruby raised both eyebrows. Mack looked around quickly, searching for another opportunity. “What do you think about this color, Sister?” He pointed to the walls in the living room.
“Real white,” she said. “Clean looking though.”
“It’s called Dover White,” Mary Jane called from the kitchen. “All units are the same so any color furniture will work.” She hooked an arm toward them. “Well, come on. It’s time to look at the kitchen.” As directed, Mack, Ruby, and Sister filed into the kitchen.
“I see the new appliances you talked about, Mack . . .” A confused look crossed Sister’s face. “But, where’d they put the stove?”
Pointing to a glass cooktop, Mary Jane resumed her spiel. “A glass cooktop provides easy clean-up and is astha— estha— It’s pretty to look at.”
“A glass stove?” Sister ran her hand across the cooktop. “Well, I’ll swan. I’ve seen those on the TV.”
As Ruby walked to the patio door, Mack walked up next to her. “See the treed areas out back? Just like the woods at the home place.”
Mary Jane spoke up again. “The woods are called—”
“Green spaces,” Mack said, giving the girl a look. “I know.”
“More duplexes,” Ruby said. “That’s all I see. More duplexes.”
Mary Jane said, “They’re called patio homes—”
“We know!” Mack gave the girl another look, then turned back to his mother. “It’s not as built up out back. That’s where I intend to buy.”
Ruby turned her attention to the kitchen. “Well, looks like this room would be big enough for everything to fit—if we get rid of my big old table and chairs. Maybe I could trade it for one of those little chrome dinettes. My hairdryer could set in that corner.” She looked outside again, studying the slab of concrete under the awning. “And we could put a doghouse out there.”
“Cats and dogs under twenty pounds are allowed.” Mary Jane’s eyes flipped through the instruction manual in her head again. “You must keep your pet in the house at all times except to walk. And then you must have them on a leash and, uh . . . well, you have to carry a plastic bag to pick up their . . . uh, their . . .”
“Doo-doo?” Mack said, observing the girl’s red face.
“Yeah, doo-doo.”
“Wha—what? But Whitey weighs more than twenty pounds.” Ruby looked at the blushing girl. “You mean, we couldn’t bring our dog with us?”
“That realtor didn’t mention that.” Mack turned to Mary Jane. “What the hell’s the reason for that rule?”
“It’s called a restriction, not a rule. And it’s ‘cause big dogs cause problems. They dig holes and make big . . . doo-doo. The Association voted to keep them out to keep dues from going up.” She smiled. “So, see? It’s to save you money.”
Mack recycled the girl’s explanation, looking for some semblance of logic in the cause-and-effect chain of events she’d hammered out. Ruby honed in on something else.
“Association dues?” She looked at Mack.
“They mow and trim the yard in the summer. Winters, they shovel the driveways and put down salt on the sidewalks.”
Ruby sniffed. “Never had to pay for that before. Always had a friend that would plow us out if need be, or haul off brush in exchange for a haircut. How much that cost, those Association dues?’
“I’ll take care of the dues, Mama. Don’t worry your head about it.”
“Or you can have birds, like canaries and parakeets,” Mary Jane said, picking up her spiel again. “Or fish. Lot of people have a bowl of fish.”
Ruby and Sister looked at each other.
Mack rolled his head side to side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. “I’ll talk to the manager, see what I can work out with Whitey. Nothing else, I bet Nonny would take him. She could use a dog.”
“Never in my born days did I think I’d have to give Whitey away,” Ruby whispered.
Though Sister said nothing, Mack noticed she was swallowing hard. He turned to the tour guide. “Show them the two bedrooms and bathroom.”
“Only two bedrooms? For certain we won’t be bringing Pa with us,” Ruby said.
“We might could,” Sister said, eyeing the larger of the two bedrooms. “We could take the big room and give him the little one.”
“Pa’s not well enough to leave the home,” Mack said, intervening. “I wouldn’t count on him ever leaving.”
“Well, let’s go then,” Ruby said.
Mack took her arm. “Would you just look around some more, Mama.”
“What’s left to see?” Ruby stood in the middle of the living room and looked toward the kitchen and then out the front window.
“The clubhouse, you haven’t seen the clubhouse,” Mary Jane said.
Another opportunity, Mack thought. “Lead the way,” he told her. A few minutes later, they followed the high-school girl to the entrance of the chalet-looking building.
“There’s lots of activities.” Mary Jane walked them to a large room where groups of people sat at tables.
“So when do we move?” Sister said, looking at Mack. “You decided that yet?”
Finally, he thought, one of them was on board. “A few things to make happen yet,” he said, “but I have a realtor working on listing the home place right now.”
“Oh my Lord!” Ruby clutched her chest with one hand and pointed inside the recreation room with the other.
“What is it?” Mack stared in the direction she pointed, saw women playing cards at two tables and a game played with brightly colored dominoes at the others. “Don’t worry, Mama. They’ll teach you how to play.”
“It’s not that. Look at their hair. They’re all . . . Fawn Beige!”
“Oh yes,” Mary Jane said, smiling broadly. “That’s the last thing on the list. There’s a beauty shop right across the street that caters to the residents here. And you get a senior-citizen discount!”
“Well, thank Heaven for small blessings,” Sister muttered.
*****
“I need to run an errand,” Mack said. “Go on in, I’ll catch up with you.” He left his mother and aunt at the front door of the Walmart and drove to a nearby store on Carl Albert Parkway that had an outside pay phone. Dialing the Henryetta realtor’s office, he found Roxie Komenski at her desk.
“Hey, I just showed my mother and aunt the gated community. Yeah, it went pretty well. They’re still trying to adjust to the idea, but my aunt’s on board and I’m sure Mama will come around. What have you found out with the builder?” Cold raindrops began to fall, spattering his face.
“Well, that’s good news. Glad to hear he’s willing to go heavier construction. Say, I want a unit out back there. Mama would like it better if she could see something other than duplexes through the window.”
Roxie Komenski’s voice rattled like a machine gun.
“What do you mean, a slight glitch?” Mack’s forehead wrinkled as he listened. “Well yeah, I can understand the builder needing to do the same kind of construction on both units. Basically, it’s one building divided in half, so the price should go up accordingly. What’s the problem?” The next part of the conversation didn’t smooth out the wrinkles. “Why wouldn’t someone want to pay a little more to have a better-built place? That doesn’t make sense.”
Mack zipped his coat as the sky opened up in earnest. “I hadn’t given any thought to buying both units. Ten thousand dollars extra construction costs for the two sounds a bit out of line, but if I get enough for the home place, I guess I can swing it. Could rent out the other side, I suppose. I know of someone who might be interested—”
Mack’s mouth dropped open. “The hell you say.” He took a minute to absorb the realtor’s latest revelation. “You didn’t tell me there was no renting allowed.” He scooped the water off his face as the realtor did more talking. “You’re kidding. So you’re saying I would be responsible for finding a buyer for the other side since I’m the one causing the changes to happen.” He paused. “Wait up. Why won’t you handle it, get two commissions instead of one?”
Mack’s face mirrored his frustration. “I guess I didn’t understand that. So you’re not getting any commission on the duplex, just on the country place when you sell it?”
How the hell can she afford a Cadillac? he thought.
“Yeah, I see now why you wanted seven percent. By the way, have you given any more thought to the asking price?”
He listened some more. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled a minute later. “So you think that’s all the market would allow.” He paused to listen again, looking interested. “A good lead on a buyer. That does sound promising.”
He leaned closer to the phone as the wind picked up. “No, I haven’t mailed the listing agreement yet. Tell you what. You up the selling price ten thousand to cover the additional cost of construction and we got a deal. I’ll go back out to that gated community and sign the contract on the duplex today. You follow through with that lead and I’ll sign the contract when I hear back from you— What’d you say?” Mack let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I get your drift.”
Hanging up the phone, Mack turned his face to a sky the color of gunmetal and replayed Roxie Komenski’s parting words: “Balls in your court, Barlow. I’ll follow up on that lead when I get that signed contract.”
She’s got you by the nuts, pard . . .
“I know, I know,” he mumbled to the anonymous voice in his head. Jogging to the Bronco, he pulled the manila envelope from under the front seat, signed the listing agreement, and stuffed it into a prepaid envelope that Roxie Komenski had had the goodness to provide. Spotting a blue postal box sitting on the corner, he made a dash for it and dropped the envelope through the slot. Glancing toward the front door of the Walmart, opening and closing as if under the control of some higher power, he debated retrieving his mother and aunt or leaving them inside.
Hell, he thought. I can be there and back in the time it would take to load ‘em up. He slogged back to his SUV one last time. Driving to the gated community to sign the contract on two patio homes, he felt like a rodeo bronc that had been rode hard and put up wet.
