I'll Stand by You (19 page)

* * *

Dori woke up about four in the morning to change Luther and give him a bottle. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and so much crying, but there was a smile on her face as they played “catch Mama’s finger” while he drank. She would wiggle her finger just out of reach of his hand, and he would grab for it over and over until she’d relent and lower it just enough for him to reach. When Luther finally caught it, his eyebrows arched in surprise as Dori chuckled.

“You surprised yourself, didn’t you?” she whispered.

By the time she got him back to sleep, it was nearly five. She went to the bathroom and then crawled back in bed, but she slept lightly, half listening for the family to start moving around.

It was the boys’ footsteps running in the hall and Johnny’s quick caution to be quiet that alerted her to the fact they were up. Luther was sleeping soundly, so she got out of bed and dressed, then headed for the kitchen, hoping she could help in some way.

Johnny was at the stove, stirring another pot of oatmeal, which made her wonder if they always ate it because it was less expensive than eggs and bacon or because it was the quickest solid meal to fix.

“Good morning,” Dori said.

Johnny turned at the sound of her voice and smiled.

“Hey, you,” he said softly. “I heard you two up earlier this morning. Did you get any sleep?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can get bowls and spoons for me.”

She moved around the room without hesitation and gathered up what he needed and set them within reach.

“You’re pretty handy to have around,” Johnny said.

She glanced up at him and then quickly looked away, telling herself he meant nothing by it. He was just a really nice guy. She wished she’d gotten to know him better when they’d been in school and then was shocked that had even crossed her mind. She’d already paid a high price for poor judgement.

“I can make the boys’ lunches if you haven’t already done that,” she offered.

“Ham and cheese with mayo for Marshall. Ham and cheese with butter for Beep. Two ham and cheese with mustard for me. Their lunch boxes are on the back counter by the washer and dryer. Marshall’s is
Duck
Dynasty
. Beep has Iron Man. Mine is red Tupperware.”

“Got it,” she said and got to work.

The boys came in for breakfast, saw what she was doing, and made a beeline for her.

“I like mayonnaise,” Marshall said.

Dori smiled. “I know. Johnny told me.”

“I
don’t
like maynaze,” Beep drawled.

“You want butter, right?”

He grinned. “Yep. I’m a butter man.”

She laughed again, which made Johnny stop and look—really look—at her. She was so pretty when she smiled. Then he shook off the thought and started dishing up oatmeal.

“Can I have raisins?” Marshall asked.

“May I, and, yes,” Johnny muttered.

“I don’t want no raisins,” Beep said.

Johnny stopped and turned to the boys.

“Guys! Every morning I make oatmeal. Every morning you both feel the need to remind me how you like to eat it. I have a real good memory. You really don’t have to tell me every time.”

Marshall shrugged. “Okay. Whatever.”

“I sure don’t want no raisins,” Beep mumbled.

Johnny shook his head. “You like grapes. You should like raisins.”

“Why?” Beep asked.

“Raisins are just grapes with most of the juice dried out of them.”

“I don’t like dried grapes,” Beep stated.

“I think you’ve lost that battle,” Dori said.

“That happens a lot around here,” Johnny said and put the bowls on the table. “Eat up, guys. Today’s Friday. Let’s make it a good one.”

He dipped oatmeal for Dori and paused.

“Would you like some raisins in yours?”

She took the bowl out of his hands.

“I don’t like no dried grapes either,” she said and took her bowl to the table with Johnny’s laughter following like a warm breath on the back of her neck.

Chapter 12

Dori was doing laundry and Luther was on a pallet in the living room, waving fat baby fists at the spinning ceiling fan, when Peanut Butterman called.

She saw the caller ID and walked away from the noise of the washer and dryer to answer.

“Hello.”

“Dori, it’s me. I got your text about the deposit box key. Where on earth did you find it?”

“Mrs. Harper at the funeral home gave it to me. She said it was in Granddaddy’s jeans.”

“Your granddaddy, God rest his soul, was really thinking ahead to take that with him when you were running from the fire. Listen, I have some things to bring over when I pick up the key. Is it okay to come by now?”

“Yes, sir,” Dori said. “I’ll be watching for you.”

“Is your little guy awake?” he asked.

Dori walked toward the living room to check and saw Luther waving at the fan and smiled.

“Yes, sir. At the moment he seems to be having a conversation with the ceiling fan.”

Peanut laughed. “See you soon.”

When he disconnected, Dori went down the hall to the bathroom to brush her hair and freshen up.

A couple of minutes later, she put down the hairbrush and looked at her reflection. Something was the matter with her hair. There were dry patches that frizzed up no matter how long she brushed—probably burned by sparks from the fire. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and she knew she was still too thin, but there was nothing to be done about that, either. After making sure her shirt was still clean, she went back to the living room to check on Luther and was sitting on the floor playing with him when she heard a car. She got up to look and saw two cars instead of one coming up the driveway.

Peanut got out of the first car, with a briefcase and a large sack. The driver in the second car parked, popped the trunk, and got out as Peanut headed to the house.

Dori opened the door as Butterman came up the steps.

“Good morning, Dori! I come bearing gifts. Where’s that boy?”

Dori stepped aside as Peanut entered and pointed.

Luther was still in deep conversation with the fan, his gazed fixed, his hands flailing.

Peanut laughed. “Hypnosis! That’s a unique way to put them to sleep.”

Then the man who’d been driving the other car was now standing on the threshold holding a very large box.

“Where do you want this, Mr. Butterman?”

“Just set it anywhere and then wait for me. I won’t be long.”

The man grinned at the baby, nodded politely at Dori as he carried the box to an empty space behind the couch, and then made a quick exit.

“What’s in that?” Dori asked.

“A collapsible playpen that can double as a baby bed. I had a feeling you might need something like that.”

Dori gasped. “Oh, you have no idea! This is wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Peanut patted her arm in a fatherly manner.

“You’re welcome, dear. If you have a few minutes, we need to talk.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and sat down on the sofa.

Butterman sat at the other end of the sofa and then seemed to remember he was still holding the sack.

“This is for you. I had my secretary pick it out. It’s something for you to wear to the funeral. She checked with Lovey Cooper about the sizes.”

Dori opened the bag and pulled out a black-and-white baby-doll dress, black stockings, and black wedge sandals. The outfit was young and stylish but still perfect for a somber event.

Her hands shook as she felt the soft knit fabric. His thoughtfulness was so beyond what she would have expected.

“It’s beautiful, and the shoes are perfect. Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr. Butterman.”

Peanut smiled. “You’re welcome, Dori. I’m pleased that you approve. Now, down to business.”

She stood up to get the safety-deposit key from her pocket and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” Peanut said. “This will make my job easier. The box has to be opened in front of witnesses and the contents listed and recorded. There’s a lot of paperwork attached to the business of dying. Now, let’s see…”

Dori watched him shuffling through the papers in his briefcase, and then he paused and handed her a debit card.

“This is from the joint account belonging to you and Meeker. You stated that you had signed the card to write checks on the account, but the debit card for you was never picked up. Even though his estate is in probate, your name on the account does allow you access.”

Dori sighed. Now she had access to his money too, when hers ran out.

Peanut handed her an envelope.

“These are some bank checks for you. One is for your personal account. The other is the joint account. You can use those while waiting for your replacement checks to arrive. I gave them this mailing address, although your old address will still be on the checks. You’ll have to deal with that later. For now, you should get them within five or six days.”

“Thank you. This is so thoughtful,” Dori said and laid them in her lap on top of the card.

“And last but not least,” he said and handed her a set of car keys, “the car I drove here is a rental. Per your insurance policy, they have to furnish one for you until yours is replaced. That’s the beauty of full, comprehensive coverage. I took the liberty of acquiring one for you.”

Dori sighed. “This is so thoughtful of you, Mr. Butterman.”

Peanut paused in the act of closing up his briefcase to explain.

“My job is rarely pleasant. I’m almost always trying to solve a criminal issue. This is different. This was a tragedy coupled with the legal issues of a good man’s passing. I really liked Meeker Webb. I admire your courage, and I’m sincerely honored to get to do this for you.”

“Then, thank you,” she said, struggling once again not to cry.

He shut his briefcase and stood.

“The gas tank is full. There’s a baby seat in the back for your boy. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll see myself out.”

Moments later, he was gone.

Dori got up and locked the door behind him, then laid the checks, the debit card, and the keys on the side table and turned and looked at Luther, who was still mesmerized by the spinning blades.

“You’ve stared at that thing long enough,” she muttered and turned off the fan. She dragged the box with the playpen away from the sofa and tore into it.

Luther squawked, then heard the noise his mother was making and squawked again because he couldn’t see her.

“You sure are bad off,” she said, laughing as she dragged his pallet out where he could see what she was doing, and then she finished setting up the playpen and put him in it.

* * *

The phone had been ringing all day at the Curl Up and Dye. Women who would normally be getting their hair done on other days were all trying to get their appointments changed to today so they’d look good to attend Meeker Webb’s funeral tomorrow. It wasn’t so much that they’d held Meeker in such high esteem as the fact that they wanted to see if Dori Grant showed up with Johnny Pine.

Ruby was juggling customers without complaint, but there was a bead of sweat on her upper lip and her blond curls were in serious disarray. The twins were working double-time but with less grace. Grumbling was a part of their repertoire, and no one thought too much of it. Even Mabel Jean was being pushed to take as many manicures as she could squeeze in. The place was full to overflowing, with ladies still sitting up front and waiting to be called back. So when the bell jingled over the front door signaling yet another customer coming in, everyone turned to look.

* * *

Dori buckled Luther into the car seat, tucked the blanket around him, and then got into the car. She took a couple of minutes to locate all the controls, then adjusted the seat and the rearview mirror before backing out of the drive.

It felt good to be in control of something, even if it was just a car. She had a baby bottle and extra diapers in the diaper bag and Luther’s favorite teething ring, but she was hoping he’d be so interested in his surroundings that he’d be good for the short time she would be at the salon.

As soon as she knew she had wheels, she’d called the Curl Up and Dye to see if Ruby could trim the ends of her hair and get rid of those dry places. She had no idea that her call would put Ruby in a tight spot or that most of the clients in the shop that day were indirectly there because of her.

Upon arrival at the salon, Dori was surprised by the lack of parking and circled the block twice before a spot became empty. She got out with the diaper bag and her purse, unbuckled Luther from the car seat and cradled him in her arms, blanket and all, and walked in.

The women up front stopped talking.

Dori smiled at them as she noticed all the seats were taken.

A couple nodded a hello, others stared, and none of them budged.

Without an empty seat to sit in, Dori shifted the baby to her shoulder and moved back against the wall to wait.

By now, the customers already in the stylist chairs had spotted them and chatter inside the shop dwindled to almost nothing.

It was the sudden lack of noise that made Ruby pause and then turn around to see what was going on. When she saw Dori and the baby standing, and five women seated and looking at her with unconcealed disdain, the hair crawled on the back of her neck.

“Excuse me a minute,” she told her client and marched to the front of her store and took Dori by the arm.

“Dori, honey, I’m so sorry there are no more empty seats up here, but there’s a spot in the back. You’ll be up next.”

The other women had been waiting for some time and began to fuss and whisper among themselves when it appeared the girl was going ahead of them.

Ruby turned around and gave them a look that silenced the whispers before she led her toward one of the dryers.

“Sit here, honey. We don’t use the dryers on these chairs as much as blow-dryers these days.” She saw Luther peeking at her from under his blanket, and she lifted it and grinned. “You are such a cutie pie,” she said and poked her finger lightly at his belly.

Luther immediately giggled, and the sound carried through the salon.