Your daddy was the child of the man I loved, the veteran, not Albert. Albert knew, of course, but he never threw it up to me. He was a quiet man, a good provider. He never interfered with anything I wanted to do— and he raised your daddy like his own. In the end I came to love him, but in a different way, if you know what I mean."
"When did Albert die?"
She looked at me. "Die? Albert didn't die as far as I know. One day, after your daddy grew up, he just got into his car and drove out of town. He left a piece of paper giving everything he owned to me— except one thousand dollars and the car he drove off in." She smiled. "I never even missed him. Isn't that funny? He used to send me postcards from places like Omaha and Boston, and he'd send money when he could. But after a time, the cards and letters stopped, and I never heard from him again."
I shook my head. "I always thought my granddaddy died. Whatever happened to the first guy?"
"Oh, I never saw him either, and finally the hurt healed. Once in a while, word would trickle back to town about something he had done. You see he became quite famous. He turned his love of cars into a career, first as a race car driver then later as a designer of new car prototypes."
I sat for a long time thinking about what Biggie had told me. "Wait a minute, Biggie. That guy, the man at the fat farm, they said he was a driver. Was he the veteran?"
"Yes, honey, Rex Barnwell is the veteran. That's why I had to tell you this story. Others know, and before long somebody would have told you. I wanted it to come from me."
"Biggie! That means Rex Barnwell is my granddaddy. Right?"
"Right. But he doesn't know it. Now may be the time for him to find out." She leaned over and gave me a hug. "Okay?"
I didn't answer.
"Okay?"
"I guess. What difference does it make anyway? He doesn't know me, and I don't know him. But, Biggie, why are you so set on me going out there if he doesn't even know you had his baby?"
"I'm not sure myself," she said. "Something just tells me you two need to meet. Oops, there goes the doorbell. That must be Monica."
I slid off the bed and headed for the door. I had my hand on the doorknob when Biggie called my name.
"Yes'm?"
"We don't have to ever talk about this again if you don't want to."
I nodded. That was fine with me. I'd never wanted to talk about it in the first place.
5
What's wrong with you? You look like you just swallowed a frog." Monica was dressed in camouflage pants and a tee shirt. She had her baseball capon backward.
"Worse than that," I said, "but I can't tell you. It's a Family Secret."
"Suit yourself," she said, heading for the kitchen. "What's Willie Mae making? It smells good!"
I followed her out to the kitchen where we found Willie Mae dropping spoonfuls of oatmeal cookie dough packed with raisins and pecans on a cookie sheet. Our noses told us a batch was already baking in the oven.
"Ooo-wee, Willie Mae, you're the best cook in the whole wide world," Monica said, sidling up to Willie Mae. "Can I have some raw dough?"
"It'll give you worms," Willie Mae said, hiding a smile. She likes Monica. "Set yourselves down at the table and hold your horses. I'll have you some ready directly."
We were just getting ready to plow into hot cookies and cold sweet milk when Biggie came down the backstairs. She was dressed in her new black pantsuit with a yellow, black, and white scarf. She even had on a pair of black, open-toed shoes.
"Hey, Miss Biggie, you look good enough to eat," Monica said around a mouthful of cookie.
"We're all invited to tea out at the Barnwell ranch," Biggie said. "Willie Mae, do you know where Rosebud went?"
"Last time I looked, he was washing the car." Willie Mae slid another pan of cookies into the oven. "What you want with him?"
"I want him to drive," she said. "We're taking Julia and Ruby along with us."
"Biggie," I said, "Prissy is lost."
"Lost? How?" Biggie bit into a chewy cookie.
"She's just disappeared. I've looked all over for her. Mrs. Moody's gonna kill me."
"She sure is." Monica drained her milk glass. "I've seen how she takes on over