Crain's Landing (4 page)

As we drew closer to the center of the town, I spotted a large statue that rested in the middle of a park. I also noticed the lighted marquee of the bank on the corner. “Welcome to Crain’s Landing. We’re glad you came.”

I really hoped they did.

I GLANCED AROUND AT THE
various office buildings and stores as we continued to drive through town. Dad had led me to believe this was a one-horse town, but by the amount of small businesses, it seemed to fare a little better.

“Natalie, that building on the left is the library.”

I noticed a pharmacy on the corner with what looked to be a wide driveway, and beside that stood my new challenge. The building with the dark red brick and white stately columns did indeed look newer. The front windows were in need of a good cleaning and the parking lot had only a few cars in it. I wanted to pull in and take a look, but at that moment, Peyton decided to let out a sobbing cry, completely ending that thought.

A busy grocery store wasn’t far from the library; it shared the parking lot with a dentist office and a florist shop. On the far corner looked to be a pawnshop. What town would be complete without one of those? Dad turned right at the next intersection and then down the tree-lined street. All of the homes were on the smaller side, but had nice lawns and the houses were well kept. As the drive continued, I noticed the street signs indicating the hospital was close.

“This is my street. The hospital is only two more blocks that way.” He pointed to the front of my car and then gave me a knowing glance. “Just keep following this road as it curves around.” This town was looking to be relatively easy to navigate.

As we turned the corner, I noticed a small crowd standing on the sidewalk of a two-story white house. “That’s me, the third one on the left.” Dad kept his eyes on the road as we pulled past the crowd and into the drive.

“What’s this? My welcoming committee or the town lynch mob?” I asked, only half-kidding. Late nights up either studying or rocking a teething baby gave me plenty of television time. I’d watched my fair share of Southern based movies, laughing at the dialect and silly antics. This, however, was real. These people would have an active role in how my daughter perceived the world.

“Remember, Natalie, this is a different kind of life down here.” I knew what he was saying; he spoke fondly of all the little idiosyncrasies this town held for him. Boasting about the low crime rate and the spirit it possessed. Before I could get my seatbelt off and get out of the car, the screen door to his house flew open and a beautiful silver-haired woman came running down the front steps. The hem of her flowered dress flapped in the breeze behind her. Her short hair was curled tight and the frilly lace apron was neatly pressed and covered her clothes. A small strand of pearls decorated her neck. Black pumps glistened in the sunlight; she was June Cleaver in the flesh.

“Oh, you’re home! You’re home!” The woman wrapped her arms around my dad and he her. They kissed, breaking only to look longingly into each other’s eyes. I blushed as I turned to open the back of my car.

What I had assumed to be the neighbors waited patiently at the end of the drive. I counted seven of them, two ladies and five gentlemen. If I had any hopes of fitting in down here I was going to have to assert myself. Tucking away the inner child, who wanted to hide behind my father’s pant legs, I, instead, plastered on my best smile and extended my hand to the closest man who stood before me.

“Hello. I’m Natalie Reid, and you are?” The silence that followed was brief and excessively uncomfortable. Instead of a handshake though, a pie was thrust into my hand.

“Maybelline Dorchester, this is my husband Harold.” Maybelline resembled the lady who was currently occupying my father's attention. Her dress looked to have been sewn from the same bolt of fabric. Her bright red hair, obviously a wig that was older yet well-cared-for, had silver wisps of hair sticking out near her temple and ear. Where the lady, who now bounced with joy as my dad took Peyton out of the car, wore heels, Maybelline sported a pair of white canvas lace up shoes. Not a speck of dirt tarnished their brightness.

“This rhubarb pie was made fresh this very mornin’. I had to wrangle it away from Harold here.” She nudged her head in her husband’s direction. “Now, Ms. Connie down at the diner will tell anyone who will listen that her pie is the best.” Her words emphasized with a flick of her glove-covered hand. “Lord knows that when she met her husband, the poor girl could burn water. I taught her ever’thing she knows ‘bout baking.” Maybelline spoke with such a deep Southern accent that I had to concentrate to understand what she was saying. Though just like one of those dashboard figurines, my head nodded and my smile stayed in place despite the humidity around me.

“Mayor Marshall you better bring that baby over here.” Harold, the husband, finally found his voice and ignored his wife’s continuation of how she takes home every blue ribbon during the local festival.

Maybelline thrust the pie into my hands and shoved past me to get to my daughter. I wasn’t completely certain how Peyton would react to having a stranger come at her. When Maybelline dropped to her knees and came face to face with my daughter, it was as if something magical happened. Peyton looked strangely at the perfumed and powdered person who spoke to her in such soft and yet completely adult tones. I listened in earnest as she questioned if her puppy had a name? Telling Peyton that when Mommy got settled she could come by and see all of her puppies that lived in her barn. A throat cleared beside me ending the moment and Maybelline returned to her spot next to her husband.

A large, callused hand suddenly appeared in my field of vision. “Reverend Porter, First Baptist church here in town. I take my job as the town spiritual leader very seriously. Service is at nine every Sunday mornin’.” His words were so quick and rehearsed, I wondered if he practiced in the mirror every morning? “My eldest daughter works over there at the library for you, good girl that one. I ‘spect you to keep it that way.” His words were as firm as his handshake. I wondered if he was one of those shouting and pounding preachers that I had witnessed in movies. Made my decision to avoid his sermons a solid one.

“Natalie, let me just introduce you to everyone real quick.” Dad had Peyton in his arms, a smile plastered to his face. I wondered if this smile was really there all along, waiting to come out after he and my mother split, or was it something he picked up after he won his election; perhaps it came after the welcome wagon left me. “You’ve met the Reverend. This handsome fellow is Gunny Stark, retired Marine.” Gunny stood proud in his starched khaki T-shirt, his bucket hat sitting atop his head, Marine insignia standing proudly in the center.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.” Gunny’s voice was deep and raspy, his handshake not as firm as the good Reverend’s, but it felt real.

“The pleasure is all mine…Gunny. Is it all right that I call you that, Sir?” His face cracked just a little, his head nodded in affirmation.

“My first name is Walt, but I do prefer Gunny. Spent so much of my life in the Marine Corp that I forgot I had a first name.” Shaking his hand, returning his genuineness.

“Colton Barnes, I’d like you to meet my daughter and our new director.” Looking at Colton was a challenge in self-restraint. Judging by his attire, he loved the game of golf. From his short pants that ended where his knee socks met just at the top of his calf, to the knitted cap complete with colored tassel balls. His argyle vest of blue and yellow matched his pants a little too perfectly. His sunglasses were clips that snapped to his regular prescription eyewear. But it was his handlebar mustache that had me holding my breath to keep from laughing.

“Pleasure.” That was all he allowed me.

“Next is Beauregard Davis, owner of the local supermarket and gas station.” Beauregard Davis raised his eyes from his cell phone, gave me the once over as a twinkling began deep in his brown eyes.

“Darlin, your daddy said you was pretty, but you my dear are enchanting.” The last word was emphasized with a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I pulled my hand out of his grasp before he could pull me in for a hug or, heaven forbid, kiss me.

“Last, but certainly not least, Molly Hart.” Where the other women wore frilly dresses, Molly wore overalls and a straw hat. Her face lacked any makeup and wrinkles decorated her eyes, years of laughing and squinting evident. Her silver hair was collected in a thin ponytail that draped down her shoulder.

“Now, honey, don’t you let ole Beau here make you want to cut off your own hand. He’s harmless.” She cast a warning glance in his direction. “In the off chance that he ever gives you any trouble, you give me a call.” Molly was the type of lady I could become friends with.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” I winked in her direction as the sound of a siren came from behind us.

I turned to my right and jumped back as a police car came to a screeching halt, lights and siren still going, the smell of burning tires flooding the air around me. Just like a scene from a tongue in cheek parody, the car door opened and out came the deputy. Long legs, wide brimmed hat, aviator-reflective glasses and a mouth full of chewing gum. He left the door open and the lights whirling, but thank God the siren had been turned off. He stood before us, hands on his gun belt, chin moving side to side with his chewing. “Mayor.” He spoke with what I could safely assume was the best bad assed voice he had in his repertoire. For the second time today I found myself holding back my laughter.

“Ah, Natalie. Allow me to introduce you to one of the city’s finest, Sheriff Dale Chisholm.”

He tilted his hat in my direction and removed his glasses. As he lowered the frames, I noticed he came complete with the pork chop sideburns. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Mayor, I had some wise acker kids thinkin’ they owned the road over near the Johnson place.” The wad of gum glided from side to side as he spoke.

“Good to know you’re keeping the peace,” Dad replied, his words seemed honest and I knew there was a story there. “Now, Natalie, Sheriff Chisholm will meet you at the library on Monday to give you the keys and a tour of the place.” I smiled at the two of them, nodding my head in external agreement; inside I had completely different plans.

After many more handshakes and instructions on how to heat up the pie, the council members took their leave. I turned to my father, who had already begun to remove his items from the back of my car. It seemed there were things my dad had neglected to tell me. I wasn’t mad; he deserved to be happy after what
she
had done to him. He was far braver than me if he was willing to open himself up for heartache again.

“Natalie,” Dad called my name as he walked hand-in-hand around my car with the woman. Peyton had fallen back asleep and I hoped she would stay that way long enough to get home. “Natalie, this is Peggy, my girlfriend.”

He didn’t look at me as he introduced her; their eyes were once again locked in a moment. I could remember looking at Holden that way once. I shook the thought from my mind and turned on my smile, extending my hand out to shake hers. She had other ideas, though, and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, you’re even more beautiful than your pictures.” She hugged me tightly and rocked me back and forth.

I looked at my father over the top of her shoulder; he only smiled wider as he watched us. She finally released me, but kept both hands on my shoulders.

“Marshall, she’d be perfect for my nephew Josh.” She placed her hands on my cheeks, squeezing until my lips pursed. The smile on her face was so big it could have its own zip code. “Look at those perfect teeth. And her hips,” Her hands shaking her hips, nearly knocking me over from the movement. “Oh, the beautiful grandbabies we would have, Marshall.”

Before I could protest, she threw her hands in the air excitedly and began speaking so fast I was hard-pressed to keep up. “I know...I’ll make my corn bread and have everyone over for dinner. It’ll be perfect as they stare at each other longingly. It’ll be a May wedding; she can wear an off-white dress since she clearly isn’t a virgin.” I was certain she was no longer speaking to me, more like about me.

“Natalie, you’ll have to forgive Peggy, she reads far too many romance novels,” Dad mused as he pulled Peggy from her fantasy wedding. They both began to laugh as Peggy completely admitted she did indeed read them far too much, yet reminded him of the benefit he received from her hobby. I cringed at the thought of what the two of them did behind the closed door of his home.

Peyton remained asleep as the adults spoke. Peggy insisted that “you never woke a sleeping baby, yet reserved a play date with her later.” I gently closed the back door and bid my father and Peggy goodbye. She had insisted I take a Tupperware container of food home so I could just relax after our long drive. I thanked her and escaped once again from her bear hug.

I had placed my new address into my GPS when I first got the car back in New York. I hit the find button and discovered my new home was just around the corner. I was happy, but still leery, as I feared Peggy would feel the need to mother me. A mother was the last thing I wanted right now. I slowly backed out of the driveway and headed home. I checked my rearview mirror confirming Peyton was still asleep and sent up a silent prayer she would stay that way until I pulled into my new driveway.