A Week From Sunday (12 page)
A
DRIANNA STRAIGHTENED HER
shoulders and, taking a deep breath, rapped lightly on Jesse’s door before opening it and going inside. Propped up in his bed, he looked over the top of his magazine before going back to his tales of organized crime and pirates. Cowboy lay on the bed, enjoying the way his master’s hand absently scratched behind his ears. As Adrianna came farther into the room, the dog gave a low growl from deep in his throat. Giving him a quick glance, she walked across the room and threw open the shades.
“Do you mind a little light?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Would you care if I did?” the boy retorted.
“Of course I would.” She smiled warmly. “I’m here to help, not to tell you what to do.”
“You can’t do anything to help, ’cause I’ve got these useless legs.”
“Maybe they’re not as useless as you think.”
“Oh, I get it,” the boy said with a crinkle of his nose. He finally closed the magazine and tossed it onto the heap on the bed. “So you’re one of those, huh?”
Confused, Adrianna asked, “One of what?”
“You’re one of those women who goes around spreading sunshine and light.” He folded his arms across his chest and said, “You don’t know everything. You don’t know nothin’ ’bout me.”
A part of Adrianna found Jesse’s attitude a bit amusing, but she knew she couldn’t dare laugh at the boy. Matter-of-factly, she said, “I admit I don’t know everything. But if there’s one thing I do know it’s that if you don’t help yourself, you’ll sit in that chair for the rest of your life.
You
are the only person that can change that.”
“How in the hell can I do that?”
“That’s what we need to find out. It’s different for each person. But even those who don’t regain the use of their legs still manage to lead very productive lives.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse said dismissively, looking out the window.
“You still have the use of your arms.”
“But hell! I can’t walk on them,” he answered angrily.
Adrianna moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I knew a man in Shreveport who had both of his legs amputated. He used his arms to swing himself out of bed and into his chair. He had no trouble going wherever that chair could take him. If you’re willing, you could build up your arm and shoulder muscles until you could do the very same thing.”
“You’ve got great plans for me, don’t you,” he sneered.
“All the plans in the world won’t do you any good unless you want to make them work. It’s up to you. You can lie in this bed and feel sorry for yourself, or you can use what you have and take control of your life.” When he didn’t answer her, she pressed on. “Your brother could hang a bar above your bed so you could grasp it and pull yourself up. You might be able to strengthen your legs. Dr. Bordeaux would know for sure.”
“What if I don’t want to do that?” Jesse spat.
Coolly, Adrianna fixed him with a hard stare. “If it’s something you don’t want to do, we’ll not work on it.”
“You said that before.”
“I thought it was worth repeating. Either way, the first thing we need to do is give you a proper washing.”
“Are you saying I stink?” Jesse’s tone was incredulous. The bridge of his nose was crinkled in a harsh sneer. “Quinn already hauled me to the bathroom today.”
“What you need is more than just wiping yourself with a towel,” she explained as gently as she could. She didn’t want to hurt the boy’s feelings by being too harsh. “The more you can take care of yourself and keep clean, the better you’ll feel.”
Jesse looked like he wanted to say more, to argue, but finally barked, “Bring the damn wash water and then get the hell out! That is, unless you want to look at my bare ass.”
“You won’t get rid of me with crude talk like that.”
“What’s crude about ‘ass’?” Jesse frowned. “Everybody has one.”
“You’re right about that.” She turned and left the room before he could see the smile spreading across her face. As she closed the door, she said, “I’ll be right back.”
Downstairs in the kitchen, Adrianna looked under the sink and was starting on the cupboards, looking for a pan, when Lola’s sharp voice, coming from the doorway, startled her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m looking for a wash pan so that Jesse can wash himself,” she said evenly, staring at the belligerent woman.
“Wash Jesse? Quinn gives him a bath every week.”
“He needs to wash every day,” Adrianna persisted. “Now, where’s a pan?”
“Oh, you’re just bound to have your way, aren’t you?” Lola complained as she brought a large graniteware pan from the pantry. She shoved it at Adrianna before stalking out of the kitchen, up the steps, and into Jesse’s room.
“What the . . . ?” Jesse blurted out, pulling his shirt over his bare chest as Lola barreled into the room.
“I’m sorry that you have to put up with her, Jesse,” Lola began in an annoyingly fake tone of voice. “Good God Almighty! She walked in here like she owns the place! I can’t wait for Quinn to set Miss Prissy straight!”
Jesse looked up at Lola with one eyebrow cocked. Even a blind man could see that the only thing she was interested in was Quinn.
She’d just as soon spit on me as look at me,
he thought. He was suddenly glad that his brother had brought Miss Moore to stay with them for a while. If nothing else, life with these two women in the house would break up the monotony.
Before he could give her a piece of his mind, a tap sounded on the door and it was opened again. Adrianna entered with a pan of warm water, a wash cloth, and a towel hung over her shoulder. Lola, a sly look on her tight face, didn’t move an inch out of the other woman’s way. As Adrianna pulled up a chair with her foot, Cowboy reluctantly got up from a light sleep and moved.
“Now might be a good time for you to go outside,” Adrianna said to the dog. “At least until Jesse is finished washing himself.” Then, to Lola: “I know that you have chores to do. You may want to get started on them.”
Nearly beside herself with anger, her face a red mess of lines and raised veins, Lola left the room in a huff without a single word of response. Cowboy trudged along behind her.
“Miss Moore,” Jesse said anxiously, “if he goes out, Lola won’t let him back inside.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let him in. And by the way, call me ‘Adrianna.’ After all, you don’t hear me calling you ‘Mr. Baxter,’ do you?”
Jesse almost grinned at that. “Quinn calls you ‘Annie.’”
“He also calls me ‘stupid woman driver,’ ‘idiot city woman,’ as well as a few other choice things. Now that I think about it, maybe ‘Annie’ isn’t so bad after all.” Both of them chuckled at her joke, and Adrianna knew that there was more to this boy than met the eye. “Is there anything else I can get you? If not, I’ll go out while you wash.”
“I’ll need a clean shirt. Lola would be able to find one, but she’s probably sore as hell.”
“That’d be my fault. She isn’t happy that I’m here.”
“She’s afraid you’ll spoil her chances with Quinn.”
“She needn’t worry about that. Your brother and I don’t like each other very much.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Adrianna said, moving toward the door. With a hand on the frame, she said, “I’ll find you a clean shirt while you’re washing. When I come back, we’ll talk about your schoolwork. I need to do something to earn my keep.”
“I thought you were playing the piano at the Whipsaw?”
“Between you and me”—she winked conspiratorially—“I think he’ll fire me from that job when he finds out I don’t know how to play rowdy tunes. I doubt Mozart or Chopin would be too popular in a saloon.”
“Gabe could show you how to play the rowdy ones,” Jesse explained.
“Enough about that. You’d better wash before the water gets cold.”
Leaving the room, Adrianna was pleased with the progress she had made with Jesse. She had inveigled him to talk to her. With work, she was certain he’d be able to improve his condition. She wondered if Quinn would be willing to make some changes to Jesse’s room, a few bars here and there, so that he could strengthen himself. Regardless, even with the tools available to help him, he’d have to
want
to get better.
When Adrianna reached the kitchen, she found it empty. Noticing a laundry basket propped in one corner, she began digging through its contents in search of a shirt for Jesse. Most of the clothes were clean, all of them wrinkled.
What in the world is that woman doing in this house?
She imagined that there were cleaner pigsties! Selecting the best of the lot, she went off in search of the cleaning woman in order to ask about an iron and ironing board.
“Lola!” she called, but there was no answer.
Searching from room to room, she found no one. Before she could head back upstairs to search some more, Cowboy’s bark called out from the yard. Crossing the first floor, Adrianna pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. The dog stood in the yard, his tail wagging.
“Come here, Cowboy,” she called. “Come here.”
The dog hesitated for a moment, as if he had second thoughts, before trotting back toward the house. Adrianna let him pass her and was about to follow him into the house when she caught a sight that stopped her heart in her tracks. Lola stood silently in the corner of the porch, her arms crossed over her chest, a cigarette smoldering between her lips. The look on her face was one of seething anger, her eyes boring holes through Adrianna’s flesh.
“I hate you,” Lola muttered, the cigarette’s tip dancing before her.
Without a reply, Adrianna turned her back and went into the house.
“What grade are you in, Jesse?”
The subject of schooling had been one that Adrianna felt some reluctance to broach; she didn’t want to do anything to damage the progress she felt she’d made. Still, her father had always stressed the importance of an education, and she wanted to do as much as she could for the boy while she was here. She pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed.
“I’ve finished the tenth grade,” he explained. His eyes were downcast as he said, “I had just started the eleventh when it happened.”
“The accident? Do you mind talking about it?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah, I kind of do,” he said, but added, “although sometimes I think about it in the night. I dream about the accident once in a while. I can hear the crash and feel the bus roll over onto its side and hear the kids yelling, but that’s usually when I wake up.”
“The school bus?” she pressed.
Jesse nodded. “There were twenty-two kids on it. Three of them were killed, as well as the driver, and some others were hurt pretty bad. Most everybody says that because I lived, I’m lucky. To that, I say bullshit. I’d bet if they were in my place, lucky is the last thing they’d feel.”
“I’m sorry,” Adrianna offered.
“It just ain’t fair.”
“Not everything in life is fair, Jesse. For some reason, known only to God, your life was spared while others were taken away. Remember, He only puts upon us as much as He thinks we can bear.”
“To that, I’d say the same thing . . . bull—”
“Shit,” Adrianna finished for him. They looked at each other and laughed.
“Quinn said I shouldn’t talk nasty in front of you. He said you were kind of refined.”
“I’m not so refined that I’ve never heard someone say nasty words before.” She smiled. “Even though I’ve been a bit sheltered, my ears have heard plenty of swearing. That word you’re so fond of was also the favorite of our cook back home. Nettie was always careful not to say it when my mother was around. I felt special that she’d say it in front of me.”
“This was back home in Shreveport?”
“Yes.”
“Did you live in a mansion?” Jesse asked bluntly. “Are you rich?”
“I wouldn’t say that we were rich,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “but we were comfortable. My father worked hard for many years to ensure we were provided for. He owned a bank.”
“Then you were rich.”
“All of the money in the world won’t make a person happy,” Adrianna explained. “I would have given it all to have had a brother or sister. You don’t know how lucky you are to have someone like Quinn to care for you.”
“I guess I never thought of it that way.”
A thought had been nagging at the back of Adrianna’s mind, and she hesitated only for a moment before asking about it. “I understand that Lola and Quinn are engaged,” she began. “I’m sure that it won’t make any difference in his taking care of you.”
Jesse’s eyes grew as large as saucers as a deep chortle burst from his mouth. His whole body shook on the bed as the belly laugh rolled through him. “Where in the hell did you hear that?”
“Lola mentioned it.”
“That’s Lola’s wishful thinking! She’s the biggest fool in town if she believes she can get him into her bed. It’ll be a cold day in hell before Quinn marries her.”
Suddenly embarrassed about having mentioned the subject, Adrianna got up from her seat and picked up a magazine that lay on Jesse’s dresser. It was a pulp magazine called
Detective Action Stories
. This particular issue featured a story called “Five Doors to Death.” “Do you like to read, Jesse?” she asked.
