Too bad, Walker thinks, but I had to let them go. They were good old boys, Coleman and Von Harten; Chaplin was OK, although his feelings for Chaplin are ambiguous at best. The problem lies with the other two, whom he will not name. It’s too much like summoning demons. Name them and they show up. And everything goes to hell. Trouble is, he can’t say whether those two are the demon or he is, so. Sorry, Buck. Sorry, Stitch. Not today.
Even people you like may bring up things it’s dangerous for you to remember. First proof of the existence of . . . No. Don’t go there.
So Walker locked his door and dropped the louvered shutters, not because he’s scared of those two good old boys, same as they ever were, but because he’s scared of what he might do.
If.
That’s the problem. It was his problem back then, it’s his problem now and always will be.
The if.
14
Nenna
Crazy, but when the doorbell chimed I thought, What if it’s Bobby? A nice man to hang out with when Davis goes. Not that I’m sure he is. Going, I mean. We haven’t sat down over the details, but when I walked back from work last week, my mind ran along ahead and by the time I collapsed at home, I knew.
I can do this!
Five whole miles, and I only stopped once. I’m stronger than you think.
I know it’s Bobby out front. A woman would phone ahead. It wouldn’t be half bad, walking into Patty’s engagement party on Bobby’s arm. One look and they’d all know without me having to explain. I can ask him in and make a fuss over him, and Davis McCall, who’s out in the car somewhere sulking, well, Davis can go to hell.
But my face! All dressed up, with my face all naked and smeared with grief. After days of not speaking, Davis picked today to have the fight. Frankly, life was a lot more tolerable when we weren’t speaking, but these things have to be done.
I’ve been putting it off for months. What with parties and Steffy and my job and a hundred dozen household things, I don’t have the time. I thought we might hash it out this summer when everything slows down, so I have to wonder. Did Davis plant that phone bill to smoke me out? Tomorrow, I kept telling myself, tomorrow we’ll start, but we didn’t. Then God cursed me with an empty afternoon – two clients canceled, no new houses to list. With Davis home early on Fridays and Steffy safely off at Busch Gardens, I walked right into it.
He let me have it before I got in the door. ‘OK, Nenna. I’m done.’
All the blood rushed to my head. ‘That’s all you have to say?’
‘I’m not spending the rest of my life on that sofa.’
Push leads to shove; I shouted, ‘Then you’re not spending it here!’
Crafty Davis, leading me on. ‘You want me to move out?’
‘I don’t know what I want!’
God damn Davis, he lit up like it was Christmas morning. ‘Great, I’ll need the weekend to pack. Do you want to me to pick up cartons or can I borrow the roller bags?’
I’m glad Steffy crashed into the kitchen just then, before I screamed at him. She thumped through the Florida room in a panic, calling, ‘Mom?’ like the world was ending. ‘Dad?’ She tumbled into the living room with her hair gone wild and when she saw us facing off, all hostile and stony, she stopped cold, and I can’t tell if she was disappointed, or just surprised. ‘Oh! You’re all right.’
‘Steffy!’ And we tried so hard to keep her out of this. ‘Honey, of course we are.’
‘I was so scared!’
She looked so stricken that, forgive me, I yelled at her. ‘Well, get a grip!’
And God damn Davis, he just blinked, sticky sweet and bland as custard pie. ‘Scared, honey? Tell Daddy what you’re afraid of.’
What do you think she’s afraid of, you sniveling cheat. I was furious at Davis, but that’s not who I hurt. ‘Go upstairs and get decent. You look like shit!’ She ran out sobbing even though I called after her, trying to make it right. ‘I bought you a great dress. Carter’s coming to the party, Sallie made him swear.’
Now she’s upstairs, crying in the tub.
Davis let loose as soon as she cleared the room. At least she didn’t have to hear her dad swearing and slamming as he stomped out