Nether Regions (32 page)

Annie sighed. “That just ain’t right, Delora. You don’t mistreat family. Not really. Even if they’re not your blood.”

“Right and that there’s a point, isn’t it. Shows what she thought of me.”

“Are you gonna be all right here? Sure?” Annie’s eyes filled with concern as she regarded her new tenant.

Delora smiled bravely. “Tough as nails. Don’t you worry.”

“I do worry, but I’m glad you’re living here where it’s pretty safe. Watch out for moccasins and gators though. The baby gators come up in the yard sometimes and eat pet food or scrap food if you leave it out.”

Delora’s mouth fell open as she followed Annie to the door. “Wow.”

Annie laughed and opened her car door. “Well, back to the bookkeeping. You call me you need anything, hear?”

Delora nodded and waved until Annie had pulled out of the drive.

Once the sound of Annie’s car faded, the sound of the swamp inundated Delora. It amazed her with its growing noise. Squinting her eyes, she stepped off the low porch and moseyed back to her car and the belongings it held. The grass in her yard was nowhere near as pretty as that at Salamander House, and she felt a sudden urge to call Sophie and ask her what she did to make it so green. She shook her head as she hoisted two garbage bags from the trunk and carried them into the house. Not a good idea.

The thought of never talking to Sophie again nagged at her but was held at bay by the anger she harbored toward her. No one had a right to talk to her that way. No right to wrongly blame her for something.

But Sophie. This was Sophie. So precious. So good. It rankled on one end that the woman she loved was angry with her. And about what? For making love? It rankled another way that it was Sophie, the finest, sweetest woman she knew. This rejection hurt worse than the rejection of her love. Obviously Sophie thought she was just a bad person all the way around. That smarted because Delora wanted so badly to
be
good, to please Sophie. She really had thought the two of them had created something worthy of cherishing and fostering. Now here she was alone. Again. With her guilt.

After fetching a large cardboard box from the backseat, Delora stood in the middle of the haphazardly furnished living room and surveyed her possessions. The box held new household items purchased from Mannings Grocery. Once she took full stock of what she’d need, she’d make a trip to Goshen. The Walmart there had everything.

As she pulled rolled maps from one of the bags, she felt a tremulous smile creep out and touch upon her lips. This was her new home. She no longer needed to be quiet when she came in from work. She no longer had to deal with Louie’s abusive comments or Rosalie’s disdain. Home. Her eyes scanned the walls, seeking the best place for the transportation department map. She found a likely spot and climbed onto the sofa. She allowed the map to roll open along her legs as she held it up to the wall. Sudden sadness washed across her. She no longer wanted to leave Redstar. She wanted to stay here. Here with Sophie. Dropping to sit on the sofa, she tossed the map onto the floor and wept silent, bitter tears.

Chapter Fifty-Five

They stopped in front of the Cape Cod where Hinchey lived with his mother. Hinchey glanced with nervous eyes toward the blank living room windows.

“I sure don’t know what to tell her,” he said quietly. “There’s no way she’s gonna understand my leaving.”

“Do you have to leave?” Delora studied her hands on the steering wheel to avoid looking at Hinchey. “I mean, I think we’ve been through the worst of it.”

Hinchey looked at Delora, hope flaring in his heart. Did she really want him to stay? Watching her closely, he noticed she was nervous—walking a fine line, not wanting him to see too much. He knew that if she really wanted more from him, he would know.

“No, it’s past time I leave Redstar.”

They fell silent as sorrow writhed in Hinchey’s heart. He turned his attention toward his mother and looked again toward the house. Resigned, he sighed and moved from the vehicle.

“Wait here.”

Delora nodded and leaned back in the driver’s seat.

The television droned a news patois as Hinchey quietly entered. A gentle snore greeted him and he saw his mother was sleeping in the recliner. Grateful, he crept to the stairway and mounted quietly, still unsure what he would say about why he was leaving so suddenly. He wasn’t sure he knew why himself. Delora had certainly covered the truth about Louie. No one knew what really happened, he was sure of that. Upstairs he could hear the television in his mother’s room as well, though tuned to a different station. Jay Leno’s tenor laugh sounded regularly.

His bedroom waited quietly as if it knew nothing about the life-changing events that had transpired during the past few weeks. It no longer fit him, however, appearing suddenly too small and foreign. Uncomfortable, he rushed to pack the suitcase he had used on his one and only trip—to Las Vegas to visit his Aunt Corrine during the week his mom had her hysterectomy. He hadn’t much liked Vegas. The constant noise and bustle of the gambling community grated on his nerves. No one ever slept in Vegas, even on the outskirts where Corrine and Arthur lived with their spoiled son, Robert. The flight had been fun, though, with pretty flight attendants doting on the twelve-year-old flying alone halfway across the country.

He filled the suitcase with essentials, sadly bidding farewell to his extensive video collection and his 19-inch TV. Could he manage without them? His dreams for a better life had been so wrapped up in these visions crafted by others.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the bureau mirror and slowly smiled at himself. Maybe it was time—to the devil with fear and hesitation—for him to make dreams come true. His favorite clothes went into the suitcase, stacking nicely due to his mother’s talent for precise folding. He managed to fit in two pair of shoes, one dress pair and his slippers. He gathered his toiletries from the bathroom and tucked them into a small case that he slid into a corner of the larger bag. There was little else he needed. Looking around the room, he saw nothing he couldn’t do without. Fetching the CDs and DVDs from his desk, he tossed them into the case and zipped it closed. He wrapped his laptop securely in its cord and stuffed it into its carrying case. He stood a long moment, composing himself, before he scrawled a brief note telling his mother he would call her with an explanation.

Heart beating in his chest like a jackhammer, he descended the stairs and paused at the living room door. His mother slept on, oblivious to the massive change occurring in her life. He almost woke her but reconsidered. He watched her a moment but not long enough for his presence to penetrate the haze of her slumber. He placed the note on the kitchen table.

“Everything okay?” Delora asked as he settled himself into the car.

Hinchey tried to shake off burgeoning feelings of sadness.

“There’s one more thing,” Delora said, her mouth in a firm line as she pulled her bag closer.

“What?”

“Wait, what’s this?” Hinchey asked when she handed him the stack of money that she pulled from her bag.

“Money.”

“But…”

“Just shut up, Hinchey. Wait while I get through this traffic.”

“Delora, I can’t keep this,” Hinchey exclaimed as he counted it. “There’s like a thousand dollars here.”

Delora glanced at him and laughed. He resembled a modern-day Midas, covered with green lucre and clutching bills in his left hand.

“Do you see this?” he exclaimed.

“I want you to have it. To start your new life. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“But Delora...”

“Hinchey,” she replied in a menacing tone.

They pulled onto Main Street and found themselves in unusually heavy traffic for a hot night in August. A chain of bright lights unrolled past them.

“Damn. Who opened the gate?” muttered Hinchey. He still held the money spread in his lap.

Delora looked at him. “You’d better put that away or pack it up somehow.”

Hinchey complied, rolling bundles of bills and stuffing them into his computer bag.

“So, what did you do with your truck?” Delora asked as they neared the bus station.

“I left it with Larry at the dealership. He’s gonna sell it and give the money to Mama.”

“Can I do anything for you?”

“I’d give it to you if we weren’t trying to keep ourselves separate. It would just look too suspicious. Larry’ll just sell it is all.”

“Oh no, I agree that’s best. She’ll need the money without your income.” Delora winced, hoping she hadn’t touched on a sore topic.

Surprisingly he replied in a positive vein. “Mama’ll be all right. She’s tough as nails. Now she’ll have a chance to prove it.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

“I don’t know why you’re dragging me down here,” Stephen complained in a whisper as they entered the Tyson County Public Library.

The building was relatively new, and its clean, sweeping architectural lines screamed modern. Sophie liked it, though, and came here often to do research. A healer was only as good as her knowledge, and Grandam always said knowledge must be fed as often as the body.

“What? Am I keeping you away from Conrad? How is he by the way?”

“We’re not seeing each other anymore. He’s a drama queen and a player.” His tone was peevish.

“And you’re not? A drama queen, I mean.” They approached the reference stacks.

“Lay off, Sophie.” He paused and studied the ranks of multicolored spines. “So what are we looking for?”

“You find the
PDR
and I’ll look up dermatology. I’ve seen a new rash I’m not sure about.”

He favored Sophie with a quizzical stare. “The PD what?”

Sophie, already engrossed in a thick nursing book, answered absently. “
Physician’s Desk Reference
. It’s a big red book, says
PDR
.”

“Here you go, Stephen,” said a familiar voice.

Sophie looked up, her mouth falling open.

Righteous looked good. His smooth face would always bear the dark, rough scars of his beating, but his eyes were serene. He was dressed well too, more conservative than before, in dark slacks and a dark green oxford shirt.

“This is the most recent,” he continued, pulling the book from the shelf and handing it to Stephen.

Stephen’s hands moved to automatically take the book. He turned his head toward Sophie, his eyes never leaving Righteous’s face. “Sophie, did you…?”

“I swear, I didn’t know,” Sophie replied quietly as she took the
PDR
from Stephen and beat a hasty retreat, taking a seat at one of the reading tables in the middle of the open area.

“How are you, Stephen?” Righteous’s voice was low and gentle.

“I’m good, Righteous. You? You look good.”

Righteous laughed and Stephen could see two new silver teeth, probably crowning teeth damaged in the beating. “Sure do ache sometimes.”

“Yeah, getting old is hell, ain’t it?” Stephen smiled in return.

Righteous sobered. “I work here now. I put the books back on the shelves and help borrowers with online stuff. It’s a good job.”

Stephen watched Righteous as if mesmerized. He had magically morphed into all that Stephen had wanted him to be.

“How about you? Still at Backslant?”

“Yeah. Still there.”

A pause fell, pregnant and enticing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Righteous’s eyes grew doubtful.

“I’m wondering what time you get off and if you’ll have dinner with me.”

Righteous dropped his gaze and lowered his head. “Are you sure you want that?”

“Yeah, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

Righteous didn’t answer right away. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He sighed loudly. “Stephen, I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m reminded of that every time I look in the mirror. I want you to know that. I’ve changed my life, my job, the people I see, my way of thinking.”

Stephen cocked his head to one side, studying Righteous closely. “For the better?”

“I think so. I know so.”

“Good. That’s good then.”

Capturing his full lower lip in silver teeth, Righteous seemed hesitant to express his thoughts. Stephen waited patiently. He longed to touch Righteous but knew the road back there would be a long one after what he’d done. After what Righteous had done. Although Righteous turned his head away, his words found Stephen and lodged in his heart.

“Even dinner would mean a lot to me. Too much. Maybe it would be better if...”

Frowning, Stephen sought Sophie with his eyes in order to stall for time and allow him to think. She sat at the table engrossed in a book, not seeming to feel his gaze. He took his time, wanting to make sure his next words were as precise as possible.

“What? Maybe it would be better if we pretend we didn’t see one another? Pretend what we have between us—what we still have between us—doesn’t exist? I can’t do that. I won’t.”

Righteous’s surprised eyes found Stephen. “Still? After all I’ve put you through?”

Stephen only laughed ruefully, allowing his eyes to speak his feelings.

Righteous grinned, round cheeks darkening with pleasure. “Five. I get off at five.”

Moments later Stephen plopped into the hard wooden chair across from Sophie.

“Well, that’s that,” he said.

Sophie gave him her full attention. “What did you do?”

“We’re going to dinner tonight.”

“Well, I’m impressed. That was fast.”

“Hmmm,” he agreed. “Strange, isn’t it. All I have to do is see him and all the feelings come back, no matter what.”

Sophie craned her neck so she could see Righteous. He was helping an elderly woman, one of the Bennets, use the computer. “He looks good. Better than last time you saw him.”

“I feel bad about that, about running out on him. That wasn’t fair.”

Sophie shrugged. “You’d been through a lot. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Stephen crossed his legs, resting the ankle of one on the knee of the other. His fingers plucked at the hem of his jeans. “I’m past all that. The question is, do you think he still loves me?”