Miss Julia Delivers the Goods (16 page)

Of course, I was relegated to the waiting room where I sat and waited for an hour while Hazel Marie got weighed and examined and talked to by that doctor who needed a nurse’s help to make a diagnosis. I could’ve been a taxi driver for all the note he took of me.

“What did he say?” I asked as soon as Hazel Marie and I were back in the car. “Is everything all right?”

“Well, you were right,” she said with a sigh. “I have lost weight and he gave me a long lecture on nutrition and exercise and I-don’t-know-what-all.” She took some folded papers and brochures from her purse. “Here’s what all I’m supposed to do, and I don’t even feel like reading it.”

“Oh, Hazel Marie, you have to keep your spirits up. Your emotional well-being is important to that baby, to say nothing of what you eat. My goodness, that baby could be losing weight, too, and we can’t have that.”

She shook her head. “No, he said the baby would get what it needs. It’s just that my health would suffer. You know, hair getting thin and falling out, teeth getting loose. Things like that.” She said the last in a monotone, as if the prospect was of little concern to her.

“Well,” I said, trying to make light of such dire prospects. “I guess those old wives’ tales are true. But you’re not going to lose any hair or any teeth. You’re going to eat right or Lillian’s going to force feed you with me helping her.”

“I know,” she said with a weak smile. “And I’ll try. He said I should soon be past the time of morning sickness—and evening sickness, in my case—and I think I am. I don’t feel as sick as I did just a few days ago when I could hardly stand the thought of food.”

“That’s good. I’d noticed that you were eating a little better. Did he tell you when we can expect the baby?”

She held her head in her hand for a minute, then looked up, sighed deeply, and said, “He said Dr. Hargrove will be back next week, so he wants me to come back in to see him. He said I might be further along than he’d thought at first.”

I took my lower lip in my teeth, thinking that I might’ve been too quick to blame San Francisco. But if so, then when and where? Not that it was any of my business, and I wasn’t about to ask her, but I do like to know what I’m dealing with. As well, I might add, as
when
I’ll have to deal with it.

Leaving that alone with some effort, I said, “So Dr. Hargrove will be back? That’s good, Hazel Marie. We know him and he knows us. You’ll be in much better hands then. Unless,” I went on after a second thought, “you think you should see a specialist. You know, one who delivers babies all the time.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m dreading seeing Dr. Hargrove because, well, you know, he’s in our church and all. I wish he didn’t have to know.”

“That’s something to think about,” I said, driving toward home. “But Dr. Hargrove has so many secrets in his head about the people in this town, it’s a wonder he’s able to sleep at night. It’s up to you, though. If you’d be more comfortable going to somebody in Asheville, that’s where we’ll go. And Dr. McKay will be leaving, I presume, so nobody but us will know anything.”

“He’ll tell Dr. Hargrove, anyway. I mean, he’ll report on the patients he’s seen while Dr. Hargrove was away, so it doesn’t matter. He’s always been so nice to me that I dread having to face him. But,” she said with a heavy sigh, “the word’s going to get around one way or another if I don’t hurry and leave town.”

Well, that didn’t do my equilibrium any good, but I let it pass. “Let’s just see how well you get along in the next week or so. You have plenty of time before anything starts to show, even if you’re farther along than that halfway doctor thought.”

I still wasn’t happy with the way Dr. McKay had missed the obvious and missed it even though I’d told him he should consider female problems. And what’s a worse female problem than being pregnant without a husband?

By the time we got home, Hazel Marie was dragging, so after she’d eaten part of a snack Lillian had prepared for her, she went upstairs to lie down. That gave me a chance to catch Lillian up with what the doctor had said.

“So,” I said, finishing my report, “she may be farther along than we’d realized, and with Dr. Hargrove coming back, she’s anxious to be leaving. I am so distressed because heaven knows where she’ll end up.”

“Miss Julia,” Lillian confided in a low voice, “she can’t look after herself all by herself and that baby, too. An’ what she gonna do ’bout Lloyd? He goin’ or he stayin’?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? I don’t know which is worse, having both of them gone or her off by herself with nobody to get help if she needs it.” I could feel my nerves going to pieces everytime I thought of the ramifications. “We’ve got to get Mr. Pickens to make a move.”

“He be here for supper again tonight. Maybe we ought to jus’ tell him. An’ tell him what he got to do about it, too.”

“I’m tempted, Lillian, I am really tempted. But I did give her my word, and I hate to go back on it. At least until there’s nothing left to do but that.” I blew out my breath, exasperated because no one was doing what they were supposed to do. “Well, we still have a little time. As long as she’s not packing her suitcases, we can wait a while longer and hope something will give.”

 

 

 

 

Dinner that evening was a repeat of the previous night, although without Mr. Pickens’s choking episode. He came in, being his usual cheerful self, although I thought I noticed that it took a little more effort than usual. I hoped so. I hoped he was having trouble sleeping and trouble keeping his mind on his work and trouble making it through the day. He had no trouble eating, however, or engaging Lloyd and Sam in conversation. But, like the night before, he left as soon as dinner was over, expressing his apologies to me and his compliments to Lillian.

“Mr. Sam?” Lloyd said as soon as Mr. Pickens had left. “Are y’all finding out who broke into your house?”

“We’re working on it,” Sam said. Then with a look that included me, he went on. “I’m still trying to find some of those files that’re missing at the courthouse. And trying to set up appointments to interview people again.” He sighed, almost with resignation. “They don’t want to talk to me, though. The word about the break-in has gotten out, and that’s made everybody jittery. It doesn’t make sense to me, but that’s the reason they give.” He managed a small laugh. “Those who’ll even give a reason, that is.”

“Which is most important, Sam,” I asked, “the files you copied from the courthouse or the interviews?”

“The files, by far,” he said. “They’re copies of official records, while the interviews, well, they were what people wanted me to hear. Lots of excuses, omissions, and forgetfulness. I only did them hoping somebody would let something slip.” He smiled ruefully. “Nobody did.”

Lloyd, who’d been listening intently, said, “Why don’t you let J.D. interview them? They might talk to him because they’d know he’s not writing a book. I mean, he could say that he’s protecting their privacy in case whoever stole your notes and things decides to do something with them—like write their own book.”

Sam ran his fingers across his mouth, studying the boy’s suggestion. “We’ve been talking about doing just that, Lloyd. If I stay out of it, and he approaches them—there’re only four, not counting Rafe Feldman—with, say, a concern for their interests, he might get somewhere. That’s a good idea, Lloyd, but you better watch out. Pickens might offer you a job with that kind of thinking.”

Lloyd grinned, delighted to have helped, then excused himself to get ready for bed.

I reached across the table and laid my hand on Sam’s. “If we lose that boy, Sam, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Time, Julia,” he said, laying his other hand on top of mine. “Give it a little more time and see if Hazel Marie and Pickens can work it out themselves. They’ve both got to save face, I expect. Just remember, if they’re still this far apart by the time Pickens is ready to leave—or Hazel Marie is—why, then maybe we’ll think about forcing the matter.”

I bowed my head in relief. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. I have held off and held off, but there’s no way I can let them go their separate ways with Mr. Pickens no more aware of what she’s going through than he is now.” I looked up at him and smiled. “When I think of how obstinate that man is, I could just throttle him.”

“Well,” Sam said, smiling, “hold off on that for a while. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about what those five people have in common. He spent the day in the Register of Deeds office at the courthouse, looking up every one of them. He’s convinced that some sort of underhanded dealing went on, either among them or because of them. Follow the money, he says, and the Records room is a good place to start.”

“Why, Sam, if those people paid their way out of trouble, I can’t imagine they’d have it
recorded
somewhere.”

He laughed. “No, of course they wouldn’t. But he thinks it’ll be helpful to know what was going on in the county during the sixties. He’s just doing some screening to eliminate the possibilities.”

“I just hope he doesn’t overlook the obvious like Hazel Marie’s doctor did when he started screening the possibilities. I couldn’t take another surprise like the one we got.”

 

 

 

It wasn’t two days later, right after breakfast, that Hazel Marie announced a monumental change of heart—a mood swing that took me by surprise and my breath away, as well. She’d come down that morning fully dressed in a frilly summer dress and high-heeled sandals. To complement her attire, she’d put on her full amount of makeup, with maybe a tad more blush on her cheeks than usual.

“Miss Julia,” she declared as soon as Lloyd and Sam left for the day. “I have had my fill of crying and being depressed over what I’ve brought on myself. Like you said, nothing’s going to change things, so I’m going to pull myself together and deal with it.”

“Well,” I said, a little hesitantly, “that’s good news, Hazel Marie. How do you plan to do that?”

She twisted her mouth, thinking, then said, “First thing I’m going to do is stay out of that bed. I love my room, but I’m about sick of it now. And then I’m going to open all the curtains and let whoever wants to come in and visit.”

“Are you sure about that?” I could just see her sitting around chatting with Emma Sue or LuAnne, as if nothing were amiss. Hazel Marie just didn’t have it in her to dissemble enough to fool anybody. She’d be struck dumb at the first probing question.

“Well, look at it this way,” she said. “It’s a settled fact that I have to move somewhere. No, now, Miss Julia, I am not going to put you and Mr. Sam through what would happen if I stayed around. I have to leave, that’s all there is to it. Now, I could hide away for a little while longer, then sneak out of town after dark. But that would leave you to make all the explanations. You’d have to come up with some kind of story and I don’t want to do that to you. I know it would just kill you to have to lie to your friends.”

Bless her heart, she had a better opinion of me than I had of myself, because I knew I could do it and keep doing it, if it meant that she and Lloyd would come back to us. With the baby, of course. Though, Lord knows what kind of story I could come up with to explain that little presence.

“Well,” I said, “let’s not cross that bridge till we have to. You don’t have to hurry off anywhere.”

“That’s just what I mean,” she said, pleased that I seemed to understand her plan. “I’m the one who has to come up with a story and take that burden off of you. See, Miss Julia, what I’ll do is get my strength back, see a few visitors, and begin telling people that I’ve been offered a job in, say, maybe Miami.”

“Palm Beach,” I said, recalling a certain trip I’d made not so long before.

“Okay, Palm Beach,” she agreed, “which would make sense since you’ve been there. Maybe you met somebody who’s offered me a job.”

“What kind of job, Hazel Marie?”

“Well, I haven’t got that far. I’ll think of something. Anyway,” she said, with a determined air, “the thing is, I’m facing this head on from now on. No more hiding away until I go into hiding for good. That’s the only way I see to keep you and Mr. Sam from suffering because of my mistakes.”

“Hazel Marie,” I began, pleading.

“No, my mind’s made up. This is the best way to handle it.” She stopped, looked away for a minute, then went on. “The only thing I ask is that you help me out when somebody asks me something I can’t answer. You know how tongue-tied I get when I’m put on the spot, and Emma Sue has a way of putting me there.”

“You and everybody else,” I said. “And of course I will. I won’t leave you alone with any of them. But, Hazel Marie, I am heartsick at the thought of you being gone. And Lloyd, too. I could just sit down and cry.”

“Well,” she said airily, “don’t do that just yet. I still have a lot of plans to make, and I haven’t decided about Lloyd.” Her eyes filled up with the thought of him. Then she shook her head fiercely. “I am not going to start crying again, I’m just not. It doesn’t help a thing.”

“No, honey, it doesn’t. But it sure relieves the stress.”

 

 

 

 

We were just pulling out chairs at the table on the third night that Mr. Pickens came to dinner, when Hazel Marie made good on her decision to face things head on. She walked into the dining room, her head held high, looking neither to the right nor to the left.

“Evening, everybody,” she said, breezing right past Mr. Pickens without a glance.

As he almost stumbled in his haste to rise from his chair, she passed right on by and came around the table to sit beside me. Then she reached out and slid the centerpiece off center so it would block her view of Mr. Pickens and his of her.

“Oh, Hazel Marie,” I said, getting up. “Let me get a place mat and some silver. We weren’t expecting you, but we’re so glad you’ve come down.”