Coal Black Blues (6 page)

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Authors: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

BOOK: Coal Black Blues
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“Four thirty,” she interrupted with a smile. “All I do now is get up, shower, throw on clothes and come down here. And, okay, I’ll forget about the trick or treats for this year.”

“Wise choice,” he said with approval. Then, like a dog worrying a bone, Neil returned to the main topic. “Four thirty is still early. I know. You can’t keep doing it all, honey. You’re worn out even if you won’t admit it. It’s gettin’ colder every day and it’s almost November. You can’t afford to get down sick, can you?”

She had never considered the possibility. “Well, no, not really.”

“I had to twist your arm to get you to sit down and eat with me. You can leave when I do on nights Jack or one of the others is here.”

“Neil, I don’t know…”

His fingers tightened around hers. “Look here, you’re feeding me because you know I wasn’t eating right and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate it or what it means to me. So you can listen and take care of yourself, too. I don’t want you running ragged doing the extra cooking.”

Neil’s praise warmed her soul and fed a hungry need. Dylan had seldom complimented her or thanked her for anything. He expected her to keep a perfect house, to serve meals he liked in a timely fashion, to dress like a magazine cover for his events, and to do all of it with a cheerful smile. “All right,” she said. “I’ll start leaving when you do. I’ve got some ideas about doing even more cooking.”

He arched an eyebrow upward in question. “For me or are you were considering my suggestion?”

“Both. I want to go up to Charleston Saturday when Alexander is minding the store. I could buy a couple of really big slow cookers and maybe invest in a deep fryer. I think I have to get some kind of license to sell food, though. I’m probably breaking the law now. And, I need to go grocery shopping, too. Are you busy Saturday?”

“No, not really.”

“Would you go with me?”

“Sure, Carrie, I’ll go.”

She smiled.

On Saturday morning, with Neil riding shotgun, they headed up to Charleston. Caroline’s mind brimmed with plans for the store, things she wanted to buy today and things she wanted to do in the near future. They had stopped in one of the towns along the way for a sausage biscuit and coffee. Conversation had been light and quiet. She wanted to spill out all her thoughts at once but held back, respectful of his request to take things slow.

Since years had passed since she spent any time in the state capital and had been no more than a teenager, Neil directed her where to find what she wanted. Caroline ended buying two super-size twelve-quart slow cookers, twice as large as what she had been using. She planned to purchase one, but Neil insisted she would need two.

“If you’re going to expand into serving food, you’ll need both, sooner or later.”

Caroline sighed. “All right, I’ll get them. I checked online and I should have already gotten a Food Service Establishment Permit through the state. I’ve got the application, but I’ll need to pay the fees and someone has to come out to inspect before I can legally open.”

“Then do it. I’ll help you as much as I can.”

He would, even if he worked till he dropped over with exhaustion. “I know, Neil, but you work so hard anyway…”

“But I enjoy helping you, Carrie.”

“Then please do. I need it. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.”

Neil laughed. “You’re just getting started. I have some ideas I want to show you. If the store’s closed tomorrow, I could then.”

“It is until I get everyone’s schedules in place and I’m confident they all know what they’re doing.”

“So I’ll show you tomorrow, then.”

“All right, it’s a plan.”

So was lunch. After dining on a pair of thick cheeseburgers, they headed for one of the larger supermarkets where Caroline loaded down a cart with groceries, divided between things for her use and items to cook for Neil. She eyed some of the things she might buy when she expanded the store’s hot selection, chicken tenders, catfish strips, even frozen chicken fried steaks although Neil pointed out she would find cheaper prices at a wholesale club or restaurant retailer and she agreed.

“I’m just getting ideas now,” she told him.

On the way home, he offered to drive and she yielded. Although Caroline hated to admit it, the long hours at the store fatigued her. She had shifted from an unhappy marriage to caring for her terminally ill uncle to running a store without any break at all. Since June, Caroline had commuted back and forth from Virginia, making frequent visits from the tiny, cheerless one-room studio she had rented before the divorce. In September, she moved into her grandparents’ old home after her uncle deeded it to her along with the store. And without warning, Neil McCullough walked back into her life.
Too much too fast,
she thought as she shut her eyes for one short moment, but she wouldn’t trade having Neil around for anything. Being back home suited her and so did his companionship.

As the miles spun out and they headed back to Coaltown, he tuned in a distant radio station that sometimes cut out when the signal failed to make it through the mountains. Caroline kept her eyes closed and let her mind drift, content until she slipped into a light sleep.

She might have slept all the way back home if the car hadn’t lurched to a sudden stop, with a great squall of brakes and a colorful burst of curses from Neil’s mouth. Caroline slid forward, caught by the seatbelt before she hit the dash or windshield. Before she came fully awake, Caroline realized two things, neither good.

Beside her, Neil stared straight ahead, his eyes dark with the gaze of a man who has seen hell and lived to tell the tale and ahead, a jack-knifed eighteen wheeler tangled with a crumpled pickup truck, both engulfed in flame that shot high into the sky.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she breathed, more prayer than exclamation.

And Neil said nothing, his hands on the wheel clutched so tight his knuckles had gone white as he trembled. He moaned, a terrible noise, and then shouted without words, the sound of his voice both hoarse and filled with anguish.

Chapter Seven

 

Beside her, Neil quivered, eyes focused on the billowing black smoke and orange flames ahead. She undid her harness to scoot closer, taking his hand in hers without any response. The acrid smell of burning poured into the car despite the windows being closed. Caroline dialed nine-one-one on her cell although she figured other drivers had too, then turned toward Neil, worried.

“Neil?” she said, remembering what he’d shared, how he had received almost fatal third-degree burns after the military vehicle he had been riding in, came across a roadside bomb.
He said he suffers from PTSD but until now I never saw any evidence of it.
Caroline wanted to soothe and calm him, but she had no idea what to do or how to do it. Acting on instinct, relying on their old bond and her deep feelings for him, she said his name again. “Neil, Neil, you’re all right. You’re here and I’m here and we’re fine.”

He made another guttural sound and her heart shattered for his pain. If she could, Caroline thought she would draw it from him and endure it in his stead. “Neil, sweetheart, come out of it, please. I need you.”

She did, on many levels, but the immediate urgency was to reach him, to break through his torment and bring him to the present. The second thing would be to move the car farther away. Although he’d stopped just past the brink of a hill and managed to park on the shoulder, the fiery crash in the valley below was too near for Caroline’s peace of mind. Sirens shrieked in the distance. Behind them, other vehicles were also halted and some rude drivers honked their horns as if the road ahead could be instantly cleared. When Neil failed to respond, Caroline managed to undo his seat belt and shook his shoulders. “Neil! Neil! It’s Carrie.”

Neil stirred, restless, and still shaking. He mumbled something she couldn’t make out, then said, “Gotta get out of here. I’m burning, Jesus, I’m burning.”

“Neil, you’re not. That was a long time ago and you’re safe. You’re with me, with Carrie, in West Virginia.”

His obvious flashback distressed her, more for his sake than hers. Her inability to rouse him increased her worry and she wondered just what she should do if he remained caught in the past. She continued talking, repeating his name and offering what encouragement she could. Five minutes had passed although it seemed like an hour and the first emergency responders had arrived at the accident scene. Some occupants from other cars had stepped out of their vehicles, craning their heads to stare at the fire. Neil had muttered a few more sentences and in desperation, she said, without any remaining restraint, “Neil, I love you, do you hear me? I always have, never stopped, and being home, with you, has been a good time for me, something I’ve needed. But come out of it, please, Neil, because I don’t know what to do or say. Please, Neil.”

Her voice broke on the last two words and she began to cry softly as tears trailed down her cheeks. Caroline crouched in the seat, on her knees facing him, and clutched his stiff arm. She bowed her head, overcome with helplessness and emotion, and sobbed.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Neil’s voice, husky and softer as a whisper, halted her outpouring.

“Neil, oh, Neil, oh, my God, Neil, I didn’t know what to do or say.”

Caroline’s strength while he’d been in a flashback vanished like fog in morning sunlight.

“It’s all right. You did fine. And I’m sorry, sorry it happened and sorry you had to see me like this.”

“Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have to, Neil. What happened? Are you okay?”

He still trembled a little, she noticed, mostly his hands once he had removed them from the wheel. “Damn PTSD,” he said. “I will be. I just need some time. When it hits me like that, it’s intense.”

“I noticed.”

Caroline also saw the flames had been extinguished. Whatever had happened, the crisis had ended. Two ambulances departed, one with siren echoing from the hills, the other silent. Tow trucks came onto the scene and it appeared it wouldn’t be long until the road cleared for traffic. Until then, they were stuck in place. She reached for his hand and held it tight. He squeezed her fingers and she relaxed. He was almost back, she thought, thank God.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked

His hard sigh sounded very loud inside the car. “No, not really. Are you angry?”

“No, why would I be? I
was
worried.”

Neil’s face softened. “I appreciate that, honey, I do, but you don’t have to fret about me.”

“I do, though,” she said. “Old habits can be hard to break.”

“Suppose so,” he replied. “I would’ve thought you might have gotten out of practice, though, all those years.”

Did she tell him the truth or lie? Caroline chose truth. “I often wondered about you, Neil, where you were, what you were doing, how you were. I thought about you more often than a married lady probably should have. Sometimes a song would remind me of you or I’d see someone with dark, curly hair from behind. I’d walk closer and it was never you, Neil, but I wanted it to be.”

He snorted, but she couldn’t tell if it was with amusement or disdain. “I don’t imagine Dylan would have been too happy if it had been.”

“Fuck Dylan.” Saying it aloud was a first, but she meant the sentiment.

This time, Neil gave an audible laugh, but she noticed how pale he appeared and that his hands still trembled, a little. “Yeah,” he said, in agreement.

They shared laughter as traffic began to move at a slow crawl.

“Would you rather I drive?” Caroline asked.

Neil nodded. “Yeah, I think you’d better.”

They traded places, and by the time they became situated, one lane opened for traffic and she eased into the queue. The rank stench of burning gasoline filled her nose, even within the closed car, and she shuddered. Caroline refused to look as they passed the accident scene but Neil rolled down the passenger window and hollered at one of the tow-truck drivers.

“Hey, Joe, anybody killed?”

“Naw,” the truck driver called back. “They were lucky sonsabitchs. Both of them walked away, but their vehicles are totaled. Can’t even tow them. Gonna have to haul them both. You doing all right?”

Although the question was no more than polite talk, Caroline noticed Neil responded with honesty. “I’ve been better,” he said. “But it’s gonna be all right.”

“Good deal.” And with that he waved them forward.

On the way home, Neil remained so silent that Caroline thought certain he must have fallen asleep, but when she glanced his way, he returned the look, wide awake. At the old house, he helped her carry the purchases into the house, but once the groceries were on the kitchen table and counter, he sank into the old recliner with a sigh.

As she put perishables into freezer and fridge and stacked dry goods on the cupboard shelves, Caroline kept a close eye on Neil. When he kicked the chair back, eyes shut, and rubbed his temples with his fingers, she figured he had a headache.

Without asking, she put on the tea kettle and brewed a pot of Irish breakfast tea. She let it steep and then asked him, “Do you want something for your head?”

Neil opened one eye. “How’d you know I had a headache?”

“I could tell. I’ve got aspirin or ibuprofen.”

“Ibuprofen will do.”

She brought him the tablets with a glass of water. “I made tea, too, if you’d like some.”

He held out his hands and accepted the cup. “Thank you. You remembered, didn’t you?”

“That your mom thought tea could heal anything from a tummyache to the flu? Yes.” She slid off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. Caroline took her first sip of tea and wanted to purr with delight. “Where is your mom? I haven’t seen her around.”

“She and Daddy moved to Texas, close to Ian’s family. He and Tamara have three boys, eighteen, fifteen, and twelve.”

Caroline tried to imagine his family so far away. When she’d been part of the community, they had been closer than most. “What about Rob? Where’s he?”

“Bentonville, Arkansas. He works at the Wal-Mart’s home office in marketing. His wife came from there. No kids, just kitties.”

The Rob she remembered had been a tow-headed kid with perpetually skinned knees from bike and skateboard accidents. He had caught spiders, frogs, and other creepy crawlies just to scare her with. Caroline found it hard to imagine him all grown-up and part of corporate America. “So you’re the only one who’s still here. Are any of your kinfolk still around?”

He shook his head. “My cousin Will still lives here, still works in the mine, same shift as me. He’s been into the store, but you maybe didn’t recognize him. And my cousins Tom and Teddy and their sister Tabitha all live in Charleston. She works at the state capitol building and they run a construction company. Aunt Dena lives there, too, but she’s retired. And Uncle Sammy lives up on Bear Hollow Trail with Aunt Mart. I don’t see any of them much, but they always invite me on the big holidays.”

“Do you go? Thanksgiving is coming soon.”

Neil’s lips pressed together. “I don’t very often, just once in a while. I’m not planning on going for turkey, not this year.”

“I figured I should keep the store open in case people need last minute things,” she said. “But I could close early and cook a small turkey if you wanted to come over.”

His expression became blank. After a pause, he answered. “That’s fine, Carrie, as long as you don’t make a big fuss. I don’t need a six-course dinner with all the trimmings.”

She thought of all the years of catered holiday dinners served buffet-style by servers in uniform and how banal it had been. Her good memories of big family meals were in the past, but maybe someday there would be new ones, in a distant future.

They sipped tea in comfortable silence, but he must have been thinking about kinfolk because he asked, “What about your mama? Does she still live up at Baltimore?”

“She does,” Caroline replied. “And she remarried. I don’t know if you knew that.”

“You sound like you’re not too fond of the idea. Were you dead set against the idea she got married again or do you not like her new man?”

Perceptive as always, he’d read her like a favorite book. “I’m not too fond of Frank. He’s so different than daddy and he drinks more than I’m comfortable with.”

“It’s your mama’s to deal with.” His voice became gentle.

“I know and I’ve tried to get used to him. He really doesn’t like the reminder she had another life before him. And Mama pitched a fit when I told her I was getting divorced and moving back here. She didn’t like either and she told me so in detail.”

Neil rested his head against the chair and shut his eyes. “Which one didn’t she like the most—the divorce or coming home?”

“I don’t know and I doubt she could tell you if you asked. She thought the sun rose and set out of Dylan’s ass and she thinks this is the worst armpit of Appalachia.”

“What’d she see in your idiot ex-husband?”

“Damned if I know, beyond prestige and money. She always prattled on what a catch I’d made and how I should appreciate the things he bought, the fine house and all. Mama was never around him enough to realize what an asshole he can be and usually is.”

“When did she change her mind about West Virginia?”

Caroline shrugged her shoulders. “I have no clue. Growing up, I always thought she liked it here just fine, the country culture, the family, and the mountains but I think Frank changed her mind.”

“Where did he come from? Baltimore?”

“California.”

“Ah,” Neil said. “Well, that explains a lot.”

Curious she asked, “Does it?”

“Folks from out there don’t think the same way people do here or live the same way.”

Although she couldn’t argue his point, Caroline wondered how he’d come to believe it. “Have you known many Californians?”

“Some,” he said. “My ex-wife and her drill sergeant daddy among others.”

“Oh.” Now she understood, at least a little. His opinion came from personal experience. “How’s your headache?”

“Still there,” he replied, eyes shut. “It always happens after an episode. I always get so tired, too.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and grab a nap?”

He startled. “I couldn’t, Carrie.”

“Why not? You don’t have anywhere you need to be until Monday, do you?”

“Well, no, but I don’t want to impose on you.”

“You’re not. I wouldn’t invite you if you were.”

Caroline watched a variety of expressions play across his face, doubt, then interest, then acceptance. “All right, I think I will then. I need the sleep. Tell me which bedroom?”

“You can use mine at the top of the stairs. It used to be Granny and Granpa’s. The other two beds are piled with stuff and don’t have any sheets. And if you need it, the bathroom is across the hall.”

Neil hesitated as he rose. “Are you sure you don’t care?”

“You know I don’t.” Caroline stood up too and crossed the few feet between them. She kissed him on the forehead, light and gentle, then on the mouth. “Go get some rest. I’ll be here.”

“Wake me up after a while, okay?”

“Sure.” She lied. She wouldn’t. Caroline intended to let him sleep as long as he needed.

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