Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,23
luxury in the mid-nineties, she took great care with it, and she never, ever allowed anyone else to drive it.
Mom gave me an eye-roll and grimace that implied we were on the same side. It said, Look what I have to put up with.
Grams is third-generation Morainian, Mom is fourth, making me fifth, and our family one of the oldest in town. The old cemetery, next to The Wild Clover, is filled with names from both sides, since my father came from this area, too. If you’ve been in Moraine as long as we have and you’re from Grams’s generation, you get automatic acceptance in the old guard’s eyes. They watch out for each other and know more of the goings-on than they’d ever admit.
My cousin Carrie Ann came up the sidewalk as Grams and Mom were leaving.
“How are you doing, Carrie Ann?” Mom said, rather stiffly. Carrie Ann was my dad’s sister Marla’s daughter. Mom had never gotten along with Aunt Marla and she didn’t have any use for my cousin or her hard ways, but she was bound by her manners.
“Pretty good,” Carrie Ann said. “Thanks for asking.”
We watched them drive away at a max of ten miles per hour with a jerky stop at the Main Street crossing.
“I’m ready to chew off my left arm,” Carrie Ann said. I noticed she had a hunk of gum in her mouth. She was a visual gum chewer, rolling it around while she talked. I couldn’t help staring at it. “I quit smoking this morning and it’s killing me. This nicotine gum is the only thing saving my sanity.” She pulled a piece out of her pocket, peeled off the foil and popped it in her mouth right along with the old one.
It was beyond me how my cousin could pull off quitting two addictions at once. But it was her business, not mine. Hunter had refused to date smokers in high school and probably still avoided it. Was she quitting for him? I wanted to ask her about AA but I didn’t know if I’d blow a confidence if I did. I was sure she wouldn’t have wanted Hunter telling me.
“You smell nice, instead of like smoke,” I said, trying to give her encouragement. I knew she expected to be invited in, but I just couldn’t entertain at the moment. “Like lilacs.”
“Hey, thanks.”
“I heard hypnotism helps if your willpower starts breaking down.”
“Ha. I’ll keep it in mind. Right now I’d like to beat my head against a wall. Anything to numb my brain. And my hands. I don’t know what to do with them.” She gave me a studied look. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. “
“You’re awfully pale.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay, if you insist.” Then Carrie Ann got to the point of her visit. “Did you figure out when I work again? I know this isn’t the best time to talk about it with a dead person in your kayak and all, but I need to pay my rent and I’m a little strapped right now.”
I took a moment to realize how lucky I was that The Wild Clover market was doing well enough that I could hire extra help. Times were tough. The twins needed to pay for college; Carrie Ann had rent due. Financially, I wasn’t in bad shape. Although, if things had gone like Manny and I had planned and we had expanded Queen Bee Honey, my future finances would have been even more secure.
“Come by the store tomorrow afternoon,” I told her. “We’ll talk about it and work up a plan.”
With that, Carrie Ann took her leave and went off down the street. I wondered where she was heading—home or to the bar. I hoped it was the former.
I went back inside and lay low, watching the world through the cracks in the blinds. Cop cars came down Willow Street and parked behind each other. Law officials began canvassing the neighborhood. A team swarmed into my backyard, staying wide of the beehives. They began searching along the waterline. I saw a deputy go into Moraine Gardens across the street. Clay’s car was next door, so he was home. The police chief’s SUV pulled up to the curb. Johnny Jay rang my bell. I had been surprised when none of the others had bothered to check to see if I was home, but now I knew—they must have been ordered to stay clear. It seemed that the police chief wanted first crack at