Long Memory (11 page)

“Before you forgot?”

“Things will get hectic when she’s here. I plan to go over Aunt Jean’s books with her so I can prove that you haven’t done anything wrong. I want to convince her to give you the power of attorney. Then you won’t have to use backdoor means to pay their bills, like paying them online. I just don’t want you to think that I’m questioning you again.”

“Why would I think that?”

“You thought I was this morning when I asked how you paid for groceries.”

Beth shrugged. “Fair enough. So what was the kiss when you walked in all about?”

A smile curled his lips. “That’s because I think you’re cute and I’m hoping you can forgive me for my mother.”

“It’s a tall order.”

“I’m a good kisser.”

“Prove it.”

Chapter 7

James juggled camp chairs and umbrellas, following Nonie and Jean to the ball field. Beth led the way, carrying a small cooler. Some masculine urge had prompted him to volunteer to carry everything else. A bunch of pint-sized players pitched baseballs back and forth in the shade of a line of trees. Otherwise the field was exposed and the sun was brutal. Sweat trickled down the middle of his back and he’d just gotten out of the air-conditioned car. He’d thought he was hot yesterday evening when creaking floorboards overhead ended their necking session. Ha.

“How about here?” Beth asked. She had a twinkle in her eye today. Was it banked embers from yesterday or amusement because he’d felt the need to be a macho schmuck today? The spot she’d picked was between the dugout and the backstop.

“This is good. Who is playing?” Nonie asked.

“The Flashes and the Turbos,” Beth explained. She lifted a chair out of James’s arms and set it up.

A coach came out of the dugout and started helping James with the chairs. “Great, you’re here. Beth, can I talk to you?”

She met the coach’s gaze and James watched her heart sink. “As soon as we get the girls set up,” Beth told him, all the twinkle gone from her eyes.

James put up the last chair and fixed Nonie and Jean’s umbrellas so they wouldn’t be burned to a crisp. Beth and the coach had gone to the far side of the dugout to talk.

“What’s going on?” Jean asked. “Is Beth talking to Joe?”

“Who’s Joe?” James tried to decide what he heard in Jean’s tone. Beth claimed she was always trying to fix her up with men. Was Joe one of them?

“The Flashes’ coach. He was just here.”

“She’s talking to him.”

“Oh dear.” Jean patted Nonie’s arm. Nonie sat forward in her seat watching the boys warm up. “We’re not as good at this as we used to be. I think we’re being fired.”

On the far side of the dugout, Beth stomped her foot.

“Is that Joey Camolo?” Nonie asked, pointing to a boy in a green shirt.

“That’s his son. Tim. Joey is a coach now,” Jean answered.

“Fine!” Beth shouted. “I don’t care. We were only doing this to help you.”

“You better go stop her,” Jean said. “Before her mouth gets away from her.”

James didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed Beth’s shoulders as soon as he was close enough. “Hey, Beth, what’s going on?”

“Joe doesn’t want Nonie to do the book anymore. He says she makes too many mistakes. You know, because this Little League baseball thing is a huge life-or-death matter.” Beth twisted in James’s hands but not hard enough to get free.

George Kline strolled over.

“Beth, you know I love Mrs. Bennetti too, but she’s making a lot of mistakes now. She marks things twice or not at all. When we compare it to the official book, it’s completely off. She had a totally different score last week. All of the innings ended in either two strikes or four. I can’t even figure out what happened.”

“And the fate of the free world balances on whether or not your team had two strikes or three at the end of the game. It was a washout. You got ten runned.”

“Beth,” James whispered in her ear. “You need to calm down before you upset Nonie.”

“Upset Nonie? What’s going to upset Nonie is not being able to do the book. You promised me this, Joe. You promised one more season.”

“Beth, you’re making a scene.” George put his hands on his hips. He looked rather sharp in the navy blue shirt and black pants he was wearing. Very dressed up for a Little League game, but this could be where singles met in Weaver’s Circle.

“How can you do this to her?” Beth clenched her fists.

George stepped between Beth and Joe. “Beth, there are kids and parents here watching you. I know you’re upset, but you need to settle down.”

James pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She shivered, unfortunately not with passion. “Beth, come on. You knew this was coming. You told me so,” he reminded her.

“She could finish the season,” Beth snapped.

“Something wrong?”

James looked around. It was that guy from the diner the other day, Zack Jarvis. Today he was dressed in a deputy’s uniform. That wasn’t what James wanted to see. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“I’ve got it under control, Zack,” George said. James looked him over again and realized the snazzy blue and black combo was an umpire’s uniform. “Beth, I know you’re upset about this, but we all knew Nonie couldn’t do this forever. She just can’t keep track. Joe, can we give her a dummy book to do? So she has something in her hands?”

“I don’t have any extra pages.” Joe folded his arms as if challenging them to check.

“I’ll go ask the other team if they can spare a page,” Zack offered. “You folks can go sit down.”

James released Beth so she could stomp over to where Jean and Nonie were. He stayed behind with George and Joe. Joe shook his head and went back in the dugout.

“Jerk,” George muttered.

“Who?”

“Zack. He didn’t need to butt in.”

James nodded. Beth had sat down next to Jean. Jean was trying to talk to her, but Beth had her eyes fixed on the pitcher’s mound. She was a passionate woman, that was for sure.

“How are things out at Nonie’s?” George asked.

“Okay. My mother is coming to town next week.”

“Why?”

“She thinks Beth is trying to rob my grandmother.”

“That’s crazy. Not Beth.” George went silent for a long time. “She’s got a heck of a temper on her though. She works at it, but she came by it honestly. Her dad busted up the Circle Inn one night because he was drunk. That’s her cousin Jeff’s wife over there with the black eye. She runs into a lot of doorways, if you know what I mean.”

James blanked for a moment trying to figure out what he did mean. When it dawned on him, he was so shocked he turned away from Beth to stare at George. “Her husband beats her? Why isn’t anybody trying to stop it?”

“We have. She keeps taking him back. We’d try to catch him in a dark alley, but you might have noticed that there aren’t many of those around here.” George grimaced before turning to the pudgy man approaching them. “Hi, Larry.”

“George. I saw you over here talking to Mr. Leoni and wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself. I’m Larry Phelps, manager of the bank.” Larry shook James’s hand. His grip was weak and damp. James resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his pants. “I heard about that business down in Atlanta. Sorry stuff, sorry stuff.”

James glanced at Beth. Zack was back, ducked under Nonie’s umbrella leaning over Beth’s shoulder, whispering in her ear. She laughed. James wondered how much of a prison term he would get for assaulting a uniformed officer for flirting at a Little League game. “It was bad,” he mumbled.

“Puts you out of a job too.”

James focused on Larry. Why did everyone have to keep coming back to that?

“Probably tough to find a job too. Turning on your employer like that.”

“My employer was a con man.” James clenched his fists. If Larry kept at this topic, he was going to find out what kind of a prison term he’d get for assaulting a bank manager at a Little League game.

“Why would it be hard to find a job if you’re honest?” George asked.

“The honesty isn’t the problem,” Larry said. He sounded more like some of James’s worst stuffed-shirt lecturers in college. “It was the disloyalty.”

“I did what needed to be done. Mark is a crook.”

“Exactly.” Larry folded his arms and leaned back on his heels. “Are you planning on staying in town, Mr. Leoni?”

“No.” James looked at Beth again. Zack was gone and she had sprawled back in her chair with her eyes closed. The twenty-four-hour-a-day on-call situation with Nonie and Jean had to be exhausting. Once he got a job, he’d definitely get Nonie a nurse or even a housekeeper. Someone who came around every day for a few hours so Beth could get some rest.

“Too bad. There’s lots of folks around here who like a man who can call a spade, a spade.” Larry fished a card out of his wallet. “You change your mind, give me a call. I know a lot of people who could use a good honest accountant and advisor.”

James stuffed Larry’s card in his pocket without looking at it. He should be helping Beth with Nonie and Jean and making sure no one else flirted with her. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so.”

Beth craned her neck around, squinting when he came over and stood behind her. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Standing here.” James put his hands on her shoulders. She had the most delicate neck. He brushed his thumbs along the neck of her t-shirt. Her skin was so soft and fine.

“People will talk if you keep doing that.”

“So?”

“I had some of these kids last year and I’ll have some others next year.” She shifted forward out of his reach. “Please just sit down.”

James sat down in the chair beside her. “What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t want– Hello, Mrs. Boyd.”

“Hello,” the petite blonde passing behind them said.

“I don’t want the whole town saying ‘did you see poor Miss Wilson getting moved on at the game.’ I have enough– Come on, Bobby, you can do it– I have enough to worry about without mass pity.”

“Mass pity.”

“Yes, mass pity. You have not known real pity until you have had an entire town with a population of over five thousand people saying ‘that poor girl.’”

James watched the boy she called Bobby smack the ball over the back fence. “How do you know they wouldn’t be saying, ‘gee, isn’t Miss Wilson lucky’?”

“Some of them might be, but not the parents of my students. They would lean toward ‘poor thing’ or ‘trashy ho’.”

“Would they use the words ‘trashy ho’?”

“Oh, how not funny you are. Watch the game.”

James slouched in his chair and did as he was told. Nonie and Jean huddled over the score sheet Zack had brought them, oblivious to everything else. Beth periodically shouted something encouraging to one of the kids. She didn’t root for either team. James studied the adult faces he could see, wondering which of them knew who he was from the news or the local gossip. He’d forgotten how much being in this place was like living in a small fish tank. Everybody knew everybody for three generations. He didn’t know how Beth could take it. How did she handle the heat too? He expected to melt into a puddle of chemicals and blue jeans any moment, but she looked comfortable.

“Fourth inning.” Beth stood and stretched. “Nonie, would you like a slushie?”

“Slushie?” Nonie asked.

James held his breath, waiting for her to ask what a slushie was.

“I’d love one if you’re going to the concession.” Nonie patted Beth’s hand.

“Can I have one?” Jean asked.

“You know you can’t,” Beth said.

“I’ll go with you.” James launched himself out of his chair.

“Why?” Beth asked.

“You should go,” Jean said. “She might need help carrying.”

“Exactly, you might need help carrying.” James thanked Jean for providing a good excuse.